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A swallow-bird, a sun-bird, a night bird, bat of a bird, fluttered on a summer day, a dark autumn night, searching for land to lie on, a grove to rest in: found no land for bird to lie, no grove for a bird to rest. Now, it flew to a great hill, flew to a high peak: it saw a ship on the sea, a red-mast sailing, it flew on to the ship’s deck, on the ship’s prow alighted, it cast a nest of copper, laid an egg of gold. God brought a great wind, sent from the western corner: the ship went into a list, heeled over on to its side. The egg rolled in the water, the nest trundled after it, down into the sea’s black mud, down among the heavy clay. There a blessed island sprang, on the island lovely grass, upon the grass a young maid. All went to woo her: masters went, pastors went, slim gentlemen-in-waiting went, rural deans from Sweden went, and Naari’s haberdashers. The maid would not go to them. Finally Turf Thomas came, put the maiden in his sledge, struck the stallion with the reins, the horse with the beaded whip: the horse ran, the road rang out, the sledge of iron rumbled, the golden heathland echoed, the rowan collar-bow squeaked. - Collected by A. A. Borenius from Loviisa Karvanen in Valkeasaari, Ingria, 1877