ТОП просматриваемых книг сайта:
.
Читать онлайн.
It was he, her husband,
Ulutuyar Uluu Sorun Toyon…
He was as slender as a spear, As swift as an arrow, He was the best among the human beings, The most beautiful among them…
After the great hot-blooded battle
Which shook the firmness
Of the vast surrounding sky,
Uluu Sorun Toyon’s tribes
Known as the pugnacious and boastful
Thirty-nine tribes
Settled on the right side
Of the southern swirling sky,
They say…
If you want to know
Who are the men and women
Of these thirty-nine tribes,
Here they are…
There are girls filthy with infectious disease,
Unable to give birth to a baby,
Looking like the curved skeletons
Of sacrificed horses.
There are boys infected with a dreadful disease,
Who have never experienced intercourse,
Looking like the skeletons
Of sacrificed horses turned upside down.
If you want an idea of their wealth
Here are the facts…
They have a stooping, tall, black stallion
Which has never covered a mare.
They have an emaciated, snorting black mare,
Which has never been mounted by a stallion.
They have a starving, skinny black foal,
Plodding along, dying.
So, these are the greatest devils
Of the southern white sky.
If I tell it as Argunov did,34
If I narrate it as Tabakhyrov did,35
All bright and lively,
Kinsfolk of the Under World who begot the tribes
Born wearing worn-out, ragged fur coats
And fetters on their feet
In the ruinous country of Ap-Salbaniki36
Who caused bloody death
In the hostile country
Of deadly Eluu Cherkechekh,37
If you throw a burning noose
With eighty-eight loops
To pull out of the northern swirling sky
Eighty-eight great shamans,
If you tie them up
To push them into the gaping maw
Of that woman:
She wouldn’t be sated.
It was the great woman
Ala Buhrai, Aan Jahin,38 their mistress,
Who was born wearing shackles,
Whose close relatives are covetous and stingy
Khapsa Buhrai and Aan Jahin,
Whose wells are always empty,
Whose deceit is endless,
She was the mother of the Aan-Darahy kin.39
If you want to know
Who was that old woman’s man
Who he was to deserve her love,
To share her bed,
To climb on her,
To quench her thirst for love.
Here he is, her beloved man,
Arsan Dolai, Logayar Luo Khan –
Born wearing a worn-out, ragged fur coat,
With teeth as sharp as weapons.
Made of iron
With a big backside,
With legs that walked with a swing,
With a crooked nose,
Who became the father of evil relatives,
Who became the toyon of the deep abyss.
If you want to know
Who these best men
With yokes on their necks are,
What their future is,
How prosperous they are
Here it is…
Looking down at the land of Cherkechekh,
Out of the corner of my eye,
I see dark, thick-set boys
Who have never loved women,
I see dark, skinny girls
Walking with their heads thrown back
Who have never been pregnant;
I see a short-legged, cross-horned, dwarfish bull
Which has never impregnated cows.
For being deprived of this duty by Mother Nature –
Its herd of cows keep away,
As their hindquarters are too narrow
For a bull to climb on,
To give them posterity.
They have hungry infected calves,
As black as willow bark,
Scraggy and short-legged
All covered with scab,
Starving to death.
After the severe, fiery battle which made
The resounding white sky shiver,
The great greedy misers,
The hot-headed daredevils,
Having created bloody death
Came from the place of Eluu-Cherkechekh,
Settled in the insidious Under World,
In the mouth of Ap-Salbaniki.
They became relatives of Ajarai-Khan40
And there were thirty-six tribes of them…
If one speaks about the vast and wide Middle World,
Where thirty-five tribes settled and lived,
If one repeats the Olonkho41
Sung by the grey-templed olonkhosut,
If one unburdens one’s heart
As the old woman Androsova did,42
If one tells the story in the same words
As the deaf Beken did,43
If one makes up the tale with joy and pleasure
Of how three kins of Sakha
Were created and spread,
Here is how