“Know I well a truthful speaker,
Easily detect a falsehood;
Formerly my aged father
Often came a-hunting hither,
Came to hunt the hissing wild-geese,
Hunt the red-bill of these waters. 
Very well do I remember
How the hunter rigs his vessel,
Bows, and arrows, knives, and quiver,
Dogs enchained within the vessel,
Pointers hunting on the sea-shore,
Setters seeking in the marshes,
Tell the truth now Wainamoinen,
Whither is thy vessel sailing?”
Spake the hero of the Northland: 
“To the wars my ship is sailing,
To the bloody fields of battle,
Where the streams run scarlet-colored,
Where the paths are paved with bodies!’
These the words of fair Annikki: 
“Know I well the paths to battle. 
Formerly my aged father
Often sounded war’s alarum,
Often led the hosts to conquest;
In each ship a hundred rowers,
And in arms a thousand heroes,
Oil the prow a thousand cross-bows,
Swords, and spears, and battle-axes;
Know I well the ship of battle. 
Speak Do longer fruitless falsehoods,
Whither sailest, Wainamoinen,
Whither steerest, friend of waters? 
These the words of Wainamoinen: 
“Come, O maiden, to my vessel,
In my magic ship be seated,
Then I’ll give thee truthful answer.” 
Thus Annikki, silver-tinselled,
Answers ancient Wainamoinen: 
“With the winds I’ll fill thy vessel,
To thy bark I’ll send the storm-winds
And capsize thy ship of magic,
Break in pieces its forecastle,
If the truth thou dost not tell me,
If thou dost not cease thy falsehoods,
If thou dost not tell me truly
Whither sails thy magic vessel.” 
These the words of Wainamoinen: 
“Now I make thee truthful answer,
Though at first I spake deception: 
I am sailing to the Northland
To the dismal Sariola,
Where the ogres live and flourish,
Where they drown the worthy heroes,
There to woo the Maid of Beauty
Sitting on the bow of heaven,
Woo and win the fairy virgin,
Bring her to my home and kindred,
To the firesides of Walnola.” 
Then Aunikki, graceful maiden,
Of the Night and Dawn, the daughter,
As she heard the rightful answer,
Knew the truth was fully spoken,
Straightway left her coats unbeaten,
Left unwashed her linen garments,
Left unrinsed her silks and ribbons
On the highway by the sea-shore,
On the bridge of scarlet color
On her arm she threw her long-robes,
Hastened off with speed of roebuck
To the shops of Ilmarinen,
To the iron-forger’s furnace,
To the blacksmith’s home and smithy,
Here she found the hero-artist,
Forging out a bench of iron,
And adorning it with silver. 
Soot lay thick upon his forehead,
Soot and coal upon his shoulders. 
On the threshold speaks Annikki,
These the words his sister uses: 
“Ilmarinen, dearest brother,
Thou eternal artist-forger,
Forge me now a loom of silver,