For this work thou art not suited,
Canst not scare the perch and salmon
To the fish-nets of thy father;
Thou hast ruined all my fish-nets,
Torn my scare-net into tatters,
Beaten into pulp the whiting,
Torn my net-props into fragments,
Beaten into bits my wedges. 
Leave the fishing to another;
See if thou canst pay the tribute,
Pay my yearly contribution;
See if thou canst better travel,
On the way show better judgment!”
Thereupon the son, Kullervo,
Hapless youth in purple vestments,
In his magic shoes of deer-skin,
In his locks of golden color,
Sallied forth to pay the taxes,
Pay the tribute for his people. 
When the youth had paid the tribute,
Paid the yearly contribution,
He returned to join the snow-sledge,
Took his place upon the cross-bench,
Snapped his whip above the courser,
And began his journey homeward;
Rattled on along the highway,
Measured as he galloped onward
Wainamoinen’s hills and valleys,
And his fields in cultivation. 
Came a golden maid to meet him,
On her snow-shoes came a virgin,
O’er the hills of Wainamoinen,
O’er his cultivated lowlands. 
Quick the wizard-son, Kullervo,
Checked the motion of his racer,
Thus addressed the charming maiden
“Come, sweet maiden, to my snow-sledge,
In my fur-robes rest and linger!”
As she ran, the maiden answered: 
“Let the Death-maid sit beside thee,
Rest and linger in thy fur-robes!”
Thereupon the youth, Kullervo,
Snapped his whip above the courser;
Fleet as wind he gallops homeward,
Dashes down along the highway;
With the roar of falling waters,
Gallops onward, onward, onward,
O’er the broad-back of the ocean,
O’er the icy plains of Lapland. 
Comes a winsome maid to meet him,
Golden-haired, and wearing snow-shoes,
On the far outstretching ice-plains;
Quick the wizard checks his racer,
Charmingly accosts the maiden,
Chanting carefully these measures: 
“Come, thou beauty, to my snow-sledge,
Hither come, and rest, and linger! 
Tauntingly the maiden answered: 
“Take Tuoni to thy snow-sledge,
At thy side let Manalainen
Sit with thee, and rest, and linger!”
Quick the wizard, Kullerwoinen,
Struck his fiery, prancing racer,
With the birch-whip of his father. 
Like the lightning flew the fleet-foot,
Galloped on the highway homeward;
O’er the hills the snow-sledge bounded,
And the coming mountains trembled. 
Kullerwoinen, wild magician,
Measures, on his journey homeward,
Northland’s far-extending borders,
And the fertile plains of Pohya. 
Comes a beauteous maid to meet him,
With a tin-pin on her bosom,
On the heather of Pohyola,
O’er the Pohya-hills and moorlands. 
Quick the wizard son, Kullervo,
Holds the bridle of his courser,
Charmingly intones these measures: 
“Come, fair maiden, to my snow-sledge,