Where my bark may lie at anchor,
Where the sun may dry my vessel?”
This the answer of the virgins,
Dwellers on the Isle of Refuge: 
“There is room within this harbor,
On this island, space abundant,
Where thy bark may lie at anchor,
Where the sun may dry thy vessel;
Lying ready are the rollers,
Cylinders adorned with copper;
If thou hadst a hundred vessels,
Shouldst thou come with boats a thousand,
We would give them room in welcome.” 
Thereupon wild Lemminkainen
Rolled his vessel in the harbor,
On the cylinders of copper,
Spake these words when he had ended: 
“Is there room upon this island,
Or a spot within these forests,
Where a hero may be hidden
From the coming din of battle,
From the play of spears and arrows? 
Thus replied the Island-maidens: 
“There are places on this island,
On these plains a spot befitting
Where to hide thyself in safety,
Hero-son of little valor. 
Here are many, many castles,
Many courts upon this island;
Though there come a thousand heroes,
Though a thousand spearmen. follow,
Thou canst hide thyself in safety.” 
Spake the hero, Lemminkainen: 
“Is there room upon this island,
Where the birch-tree grows abundant,
Where this son may fell the forest,
And may cultivate the fallow? "
Answered thus the Island-maidens: 
“There is not a spot befitting,
Not a place upon the island,
Where to rest thy wearied members,
Not the smallest patch of birch-wood,
Thou canst bring to cultivation. 
All our fields have been divided,
All these woods have been apportioned,
Fields and forests have their owners.” 
Lemminkainen asked this question,
These the words of Kaukomieli: 
“Is there room upon this island,
Worthy spot in field or forest,
Where to Sing my songs of magic,
Chant my gathered store of wisdom,
Sing mine ancient songs and legends?”
Answered thus the Island-maidens: 
“There is room upon this island,
Worthy place in these dominions,
Thou canst sing thy garnered wisdom,
Thou canst chant thine ancient legends,
Legends of the times primeval,
In the forest, in the castle,
On the island-plains and pastures.” 
Then began the reckless minstrel
To intone his wizard-sayings;
Sang he alders to the waysides,
Sang the oaks upon the mountains,
On the oak-trees sang be branches,
On each branch he sang an acorn,
On the acorns, golden rollers,
On each roller, sang a cuckoo;
Then began the cuckoos, calling,
Gold from every throat came streaming,
Copper fell from every feather,
And each wing emitted silver,
Filled the isle with precious metals. 
Sang again young Lemminkainen,
Conjured on, and sang, and chanted,
Sang to precious stones the sea-sands,
Sang the stones to pearls resplendent,
Robed the groves in iridescence,
Sang the island full of flowers,