Hoping thus to find a maiden
Weeping on the sandy sea-shore. 
It was not a maiden weeping,
But a vessel, sad, and lonely,
Waiting on the shore and wailing. 
Spake the ancient Wainamoinen: 
“Why art weeping, goodly vessel,
What the cause of thy lamenting? 
Art thou mourning for thy row-locks,
Is thy rigging ill-adjusted? 
Dost thou weep since thou art anchored
On the shore in times of trouble?”
Thus the war-ship spake in answer: 
“To the waters would this vessel
Haste upon the well-tarred rollers,
As a happy maiden journeys
To the cottage of her husband. 
I, alas! a goodly vessel,
Weep because I lie at anchor,
Weep and wail because no hero
Sets me free upon the waters,
Free to ride the rolling billows. 
It was said when I was fashioned,
Often sung when I was building,
That this bark should be for battle,
Should become a mighty war-ship,
Carry in my hull great treasures,
Priceless goods across the ocean. 
Never have I sailed to conquest,
Never have I carried booty;
Other vessels not as worthy
To the wars are ever sailing,
Sailing to the songs of battle. 
Three times in the summer season
Come they home with treasures laden,
In their hulls bring gold and silver;
I, alas! a worthy vessel,
Many months have lain at anchor,
I, a war-ship well constructed,
Am decaying in the harbor,
Never having sailed to conquest;
Worms are gnawing at my vitals,
In my hull their dwelling-places,
And ill-omened birds of heaven
Build their nests within my rigging;
Frogs and lizards of the forest
Play about my oars and rudder;
Three times better for this vessel
Were he but a valley birch-tree,
Or an aspen on the heather,
With the squirrels in his branches,
And the dogs beneath them barking!”
Wainamoinen, old and faithfull
Thus addressed the ship at anchor: 
“Weep no more, thou goodly vessel,
Man-of-war, no longer murmur;
Thou shalt sail to Sariola,
Sing the war-songs of the Northland,
Sail with us to deadly combat. 
Wert thou built by the Creator,
Thou canst sail the roughest waters,
Sidewise journey o’er the ocean;
Dost not need the hand to touch thee,
Dost not need the foot to turn thee,
Needing nothing to propel thee.” 
Thus the weeping boat made answer: 
“Cannot sail without assistance,
Neither can my brother-vessels
Sail unaided o’er the waters,
Sail across the waves undriven.” 
Spake the ancient Wainamoinen: 
“Should I lead thee to the broad-sea,
Wilt thou journey north unaided,
Sail without the help of rowers,
Sail without the aid of south-winds,
Sail without the b elm to guide thee? 
Thus the wailing ship replying: 
Cannot sail without assistance,
Neither can my brother-vessels
Sail without the aid of rowers,
Sail without the help of south-winds,
Nor without the helm to guide them.”