The Kalevala, the ‘Metamorphoses – Ovid‘ of Finland has the most interesting genesis of them all:

So then the water-mother

the water-mother, air-lass

raised her knee out of the sea

her shoulder-blade from the wave

for the scaup a nesting-place

sweet land to live on.

that scaup, pretty bird

glides and hovers; it

spied the water-mother’s knee

on the bluish main;

thought it was grass hummock

a clump of fresh sward.

 It flutters it glides

 and it lands on the knee-cap.

There it builds its nest

laid its golden eggs:

six eggs were of gold

 and iron egg the seventh.

The last residue of Finland through the heretical voice of the Kalevala:

So now she steps further down

launched herself upon the waves

on the clear high seas

upon the open expanse.

There came a great gust of wind

from the east nasty weather

lashed the sea to foam whipped it into waves.

the wind lulled the maid

and the billow drove the lass

about the blue main

and the froth-capped waves;

and the wind blew her womb full

the sea maker her fat.

From the hill-top I

dove softly into the green leafy pool,

breast stroked through the canopy,

as I came up for effervescent air

my hair brushed bird feet and cloud.

On this mirror clear lake

my feet splinter and shard into droste

as they touch the surface.

Water ripples bloom into silver roses

reflecting the stars as mercury thorns.