With the stone of many colors
Sank poor Aino to the bottom
Of the deep and boundless blue-sea,
Like a pretty song-bird perished. 
Never come to lave thine eyelids
In this rolling wave and sea-foam,
Never during all thy life-time,
As thou lovest sister Aino. 
All the waters in the blue-sea
Shall be blood of Aino’s body;
All the fish that swim these waters
Shall be Aino’s flesh forever;
All the willows on the sea-side
Shall be Aino’s ribs hereafter;
All the sea-grass on the margin
Will have grown from Aino’s tresses.” 
Thus at last the maiden vanished,
Thus the lovely Aino perished. 
Who will tell the cruel story,
Who will bear the evil tidings
To the cottage of her mother,
Once the home of lovely Aino? 
Will the bear repeat the story,
Tell the tidings to her mother? 
Nay, the bear must not be herald,
He would slay the herds of cattle. 
Who then tell the cruel story,
Who will bear the evil tidings
To the cottage of her father,
Once the home of lovely Aino? 
Shall the wolf repeat the story,
Tell the sad news to her father? 
Nay, the wolf must not be herald,
He would eat the gentle lambkins. 
Who then tell the cruel story,
Who will bear the evil tidings. 
To the cottage of her sister? 
’Will the fox repeat the story
Tell the tidings to her sister? 
Nay, the fox must not be herald,
He would eat the ducks and chickens. 
Who then tell the cruel story,
Who will bear the evil tidings
To the cottage of her brother,
Once the home of lovely Aino? 
Shall the hare repeat the story,
Bear the sad news to her brother? 
Yea, the hare shall be the herald,
Tell to all the cruel story. 
Thus the harmless hare makes answer: 
“I will bear the evil tidings
To the former home of Aino,
Tell the story to her kindred.” 
Swiftly flew the long-eared herald,
Like the winds be hastened onward,
Galloped swift as flight of eagles;
Neck awry he bounded forward
Till he gained the wished-for cottage,
Once the home of lovely Aino. 
Silent was the home, and vacant;
So he hastened to the bath-house,
Found therein a group of maidens,
Working each upon a birch-broom. 
Sat the hare upon the threshold,
And the maidens thus addressed him: 
“Hie e there, Long-legs, or we’ll roast thee,
Hie there, Big-eye, or we’ll stew thee,
Roast thee for our lady’s breakfast,
Stew thee for our master’s dinner,
Make of thee a meal for Aino,
And her brother, Youkahainen! 
Better therefore thou shouldst gallop
To thy burrow in the mountains,
Than be roasted for our dinners.” 
Then the haughty hare made answer,
Chanting thus the fate of Aino: 
“Think ye not I journey hither,
To be roasted in the skillet,
To be stewed in yonder kettle
Let fell Lempo fill thy tables! 
I have come with evil tidings,