Conjured there a golden marten,
And he drove the magic squirrel
From his seat upon the rafters. 
Lemminkainen, full of mischief,
Made a fox of scarlet color,
And it ate the golden marten. 
Then the master of Pohyola
Conjured there a hen to flutter
Near the fox of scarlet color. 
Lemminkainen, full of mischief,
Thereupon a hawk created,
That with beak and crooked talons
He might tear the hen to pieces. 
Spake the landlord of Pohyola,
These the words the tall man uttered: 
“Never will this feast be bettered
Till the guests are less in number;
I must do my work as landlord,
Get thee hence, thou evil stranger,
Cease thy conjurings of evil,
Leave this banquet of my people,
Haste away, thou wicked wizard,
To thine Island-home and people! 
Spake the reckless Lemminkainen: 
“Thus no hero will be driven,
Not a son of any courage
Will be frightened by thy presence,
Will be driven from thy banquet.” 
Then the landlord of Pohyola
Snatched his broadsword from the rafters,
Drew it rashly from the scabbard,
Thus addressing Lemminkainen: 
“Ahti, Islander of evil,
Thou the handsome Kaukomieli,
Let us measure then our broadswords,
Let our skill be fully tested;
Surely is my broadsword better
Than the blade within thy scabbard.” 
Spake the hero, Lemminkainen. 
“That my blade is good and trusty,
Has been proved on heads of heroes,
Has on many bones been tested;
Be that as it may, my fellow,
Since thine order is commanding,
Let our swords be fully tested,
Let us see whose blade is better. 
Long ago my hero-father
Tested well this sword in battle,
Never failing in a conflict. 
Should his son be found less worthy?”
Then he grasped his mighty broadsword,
Drew the fire-blade from the scabbard
Hanging from his belt of copper. 
Standing on their hilts their broadswords,
Carefully their blades were measured,
Found the sword of Northland’s master
Longer than the sword of Ahti
By the half-link of a finger. 
Spake the reckless Lemminkainen. 
“Since thou hast the longer broadsword,
Thou shalt make the first advances,
I am ready for thy weapon.” 
Thereupon Pohyola’s landlord
With the wondrous strength of anger,
Tried in vain to slay the hero,
Strike the crown of Lemminkainen;
Chipped the splinters from the rafters,
Cut the ceiling into fragments,
Could not touch the Island-hero. 
Thereupon brave Kaukomieli,
Thus addressed Pohyola’s master: 
“Have the rafters thee offended? 
What the crimes they have committed,
Since thou hewest them in pieces? 
Listen now, thou host of Northland,
Reckless landlord of Pohyola,
Little room there is for swordsmen
In these chambers filled with women;
We shall stain these painted rafters,
Stain with blood these floors and ceilings;
Let us go without the mansion,