I, a mermaid of Wellamo,
Once the fair and lovely Aino,
Sister dear of Youkahainen.” 
Spake the ancient Wainamoinen,
Filled with sorrow, much regretting: 
“Since thou’rt Youkahainen’s sister,
Beauteous Aino of Pohyola,
Come to me again I pray thee!”
Thus the mermaid wisely answered;
Nevermore will Aino’s spirit
Fly to thee and be ill-treated.” 
Quickly dived the water-maiden
From the surface of the billow
To the many-colored pebbles,
To the rainbow-tinted grottoes
Where the mermaids live and linger. 
Wainamoinen, not discouraged,
Thought afresh and well reflected,
How to live, and work, and win her;
Drew with care his silken fish-net,
To and fro through foam and billow,
Through the bays and winding channels,
Drew it through the placid waters,
Drew it through the salmon-dwellings,
Through the homes of water-maidens,
Through the waters of Wainola,
Through the blue-back of the ocean,
Through the lakes of distant Lapland,
Through the rivers of Youkola,
Through the seas of Kalevala,
Hoping thus to find his Aino. 
Many were the fish be landed,
Every form of fish-like creatures,
But be did not catch the sea-maid,
Not Wellamo’s water-maiden,
Fairest daughter of the Northland. 
Finally the ancient minstrel,
Mind depressed, and heart discouraged,
Spake these words, immersed in sorrow: 
“Fool am I, and great my folly,
Having neither wit nor judgment;
Surely once I had some knowledge,
Had some insight into wisdom,
Had at least a bit of instinct;
But my virtues all have left me
In these mournful days of evil,
Vanished with my youth and vigor,
Insight gone, and sense departed,
All my prudence gone to others! 
Aino, whom I love and cherish,
All these years have sought to honor,
Aino, now Wellamo’s maiden,
Promised friend of mine when needed,
Promised bride of mine forever,
Once I had within my power,
Caught her in Wellamo’s grottoes,
Led her to my boat of copper,
With my fish-line made of silver;
But alas!  I could not keep her,
Did not know that I had caught her
Till too late to woo and win her;
Let her slip between my fingers
To the home of water-maidens,
To the kingdom of Wellamo.” 
Wainamoinen then departed,
Empty-handed, heavy-hearted,
Straightway hastened to his country,
To his home in Kalevala,
Spake these words upon his journey: 
“What has happened to the cuckoo,
Once the cuckoo bringing gladness,
In the morning, in the evening,
Often bringing joy at noontide? 
What has stilled the cuckoo’s singing,
What has changed the cuckoo’s calling? 
Sorrow must have stilled his singing,
And compassion changed his calling,
As I hear him sing no longer,
For my pleasure in the morning,
For my happiness at evening. 
Never shall I learn the secret,
How to live and how to prosper,