Forge thyself a golden plowshare, Forge the beam and mail of silver. Ant the with ease Thou can plow the field of serpents, Plow the field of hissing vipers ‒ plow the soil of evil Hisi!
I'll hunt thine ancient mother of evil, Hunt thine origin, o hissing serpent ‒ vilest thing of god's create Syöjätär, ancient mother, thy creator ‒ this is thine origin!
Serpents there of every species, Lempo furrowed it with the white horses And his plowshare! With a beam of flaming iron! Never since has a northern hero Brought this field to cultivation.
I'll hunt thine ancient mother of evil, Hunt thine origin, o hissing serpent ‒ vilest thing of god's create Syöjätär, ancient mother, thy creator ‒ this is thine origin!
Get thee hence, thou loathsome monster, Clear the pathway of this hero!
I'll hunt thine ancient mother of evil, Hunt thine origin, o hissing serpent ‒ vilest thing of god's create Syöjätär, ancient mother, thy creator ‒ this is thine origin!