almost, that he takes fright, bolts into the hall, and tries to scramble up on to the hat-rack. His powerful, clambering hind legs hit the hall mirror, and the heavy frame bangs down on the thick carpet, while I’m dashing into the bathroom to wash away my shameful stain.
ANCIENT POEMS OF THE FINNISH PEOPLE , VII. 1. 375, 1929, “THE MARRIAGE PROPOSAL TO THE TROLLS”
collected from Trofim Sosonov, the Village of Uomaa, Impilahti
“What do folk then call you men?”
“Fishermen with seines be we.”
“Where to do you fare for brides?”
“Fare we to the Devil’s daughters,
Children of the mountain tribes.”
ANGEL
I don’t want to do what I’m doing, but I must.
I’m putting Pessi in a child’s stroller I’ve borrowed from the stairwell: no one’ll be needing it, now it’s night. I’ve wrapped him up in a blanket so that no one coming along will start wondering. Pessi’s ears stir, and his nostrils are trembling at the mass of city smells.
Below Pyynikki ridge, on the outskirts of the forest leading to Pirkkala, I peel the blanket off him. I take off his collar and lead, which I’ve been using to fasten him to the stroller. He crouches in the chair, black and naked and trembling, while a single snowflake flutters down onto his black mane and soon melts into a tear.
“Go,” I whisper. “Go.”
Pessi’s shivering gets worse. My hands feel his trembling as I lift him to stand up in the snow. I point the stroller the other way and set off for the town again, trying not to look back.
My footsteps on the path creak comfortlessly. Suddenly they’re joined by another sound, a furious scratching of nails, and before I can even turn something hits my right thigh like a tiger.
Pessi’s clinging on to my leg with all four limbs and looking up, straight into my face, so intensely it’s like a blow. He lets a little mewing sound out of his throat. He’s trembling so violently it makes me sway.
He’ll not get by in the winter. He’s naked, and I’ve made him naked.
MIKAEL AGRICOLA, PREFACE TO THE FINNISH TRANSLATION OF THE PSALMS , 1551
Victims to the trolls were led,
Widows did they take and wed.
Are the people not gone mad,
Trusting trolls, a tribe gone bad.
Steered by Satan to sinful stem,
They worship trolls and pray to them.
ANGEL
The mirror’s lying on the hall carpet. I’m not lifting it. I’m just crouched there beside it, panting. I can’t function, can’t coordinate.
The blanket’s back on the sofa. Pessi’s still trembling a little, but clearly he’s beginning to calm down. He’s resting his back against the radiator, his tail twitching very slightly like the needle of some delicate instrument.
And then he comes into the hall, cautiously, wondering at my immobility and my bowed head. The mirror’s a small round pond in the fluffy carpet.
I lean over the mirror, and my face is reflected there. Next to my own, a smaller, dark face appears, with pointed ears, a twinkle of curiosity in its orange eyes.
Pessi tests the mirror with his paw. He looks at me and then back at the reflection. He shows his teeth but recoils a little when the troll in the mirror returns his grimace; but then he edges back to the mirror and again tests the cold glass surface with his paw.
We look at each other, me and the troll. The lamplight’s casting a pale halo around my head, and at my side Pessi is a dark silhouette. We look at each other and then at the mirror and then back at each other.
Päivänsäde Ja Menninkäinen (“Goldwing and Troll”; words and music, Reino Helismaa, 1949)
Aurinko kun päätti retken, siskoistaan jäi jälkeen hetken
Päivänsäde viimeinen.
Hämärä jo metsään hiipi; Päivänsäde kultasiipi
juuri aikoi lentää eestä sen,
kun Menninkäisen pienen näki vastaan tulevan;
se juuri oli noussut luolostaan.
Kas: Menninkäinen ennen päivän laskua ei voi
milloinkaan olla päällä maan.
Katselivat toisiansa. Menninkäinen rinnassansa
tunsi kuumaa leiskuntaa.
Sanoi: “Poltat
ANCIENT POEMS OF THE FINNISH PEOPLE , VII. 1. 375, 1929, “THE MARRIAGE PROPOSAL TO THE TROLLS”
collected from Trofim Sosonov, the Village of Uomaa, Impilahti
“What do folk then call you men?”
“Fishermen with seines be we.”
“Where to do you fare for brides?”
“Fare we to the Devil’s daughters,
Children of the mountain tribes.”
ANGEL
I don’t want to do what I’m doing, but I must.
I’m putting Pessi in a child’s stroller I’ve borrowed from the stairwell: no one’ll be needing it, now it’s night. I’ve wrapped him up in a blanket so that no one coming along will start wondering. Pessi’s ears stir, and his nostrils are trembling at the mass of city smells.
Below Pyynikki ridge, on the outskirts of the forest leading to Pirkkala, I peel the blanket off him. I take off his collar and lead, which I’ve been using to fasten him to the stroller. He crouches in the chair, black and naked and trembling, while a single snowflake flutters down onto his black mane and soon melts into a tear.
“Go,” I whisper. “Go.”
Pessi’s shivering gets worse. My hands feel his trembling as I lift him to stand up in the snow. I point the stroller the other way and set off for the town again, trying not to look back.
My footsteps on the path creak comfortlessly. Suddenly they’re joined by another sound, a furious scratching of nails, and before I can even turn something hits my right thigh like a tiger.
Pessi’s clinging on to my leg with all four limbs and looking up, straight into my face, so intensely it’s like a blow. He lets a little mewing sound out of his throat. He’s trembling so violently it makes me sway.
He’ll not get by in the winter. He’s naked, and I’ve made him naked.
MIKAEL AGRICOLA, PREFACE TO THE FINNISH TRANSLATION OF THE PSALMS , 1551
Victims to the trolls were led,
Widows did they take and wed.
Are the people not gone mad,
Trusting trolls, a tribe gone bad.
Steered by Satan to sinful stem,
They worship trolls and pray to them.
ANGEL
The mirror’s lying on the hall carpet. I’m not lifting it. I’m just crouched there beside it, panting. I can’t function, can’t coordinate.
The blanket’s back on the sofa. Pessi’s still trembling a little, but clearly he’s beginning to calm down. He’s resting his back against the radiator, his tail twitching very slightly like the needle of some delicate instrument.
And then he comes into the hall, cautiously, wondering at my immobility and my bowed head. The mirror’s a small round pond in the fluffy carpet.
I lean over the mirror, and my face is reflected there. Next to my own, a smaller, dark face appears, with pointed ears, a twinkle of curiosity in its orange eyes.
Pessi tests the mirror with his paw. He looks at me and then back at the reflection. He shows his teeth but recoils a little when the troll in the mirror returns his grimace; but then he edges back to the mirror and again tests the cold glass surface with his paw.
We look at each other, me and the troll. The lamplight’s casting a pale halo around my head, and at my side Pessi is a dark silhouette. We look at each other and then at the mirror and then back at each other.
Päivänsäde Ja Menninkäinen (“Goldwing and Troll”; words and music, Reino Helismaa, 1949)
Aurinko kun päätti retken, siskoistaan jäi jälkeen hetken
Päivänsäde viimeinen.
Hämärä jo metsään hiipi; Päivänsäde kultasiipi
juuri aikoi lentää eestä sen,
kun Menninkäisen pienen näki vastaan tulevan;
se juuri oli noussut luolostaan.
Kas: Menninkäinen ennen päivän laskua ei voi
milloinkaan olla päällä maan.
Katselivat toisiansa. Menninkäinen rinnassansa
tunsi kuumaa leiskuntaa.
Sanoi: “Poltat
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