LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

      As big as a four-year-old cow,

      A hail of stones

      As big as a three-year-old bull-calf,

      Banging and rolling,

      Fell like an icy storm

      Upon the dazzling land

      Saidaryky Ebeh Khotun,⁹¹

      Where hoar frost was never seen,

      Where the summer was year-round.

      A heavy snowfall

      Began to swirl and whistle,

      Prickling thin ice

      Began to circle and clink…

      The loud, deafening sound

      Would have torn to pieces

      A bear skin with the paws and the head,

      Would have shaken

      Three grinning nether worlds,

      Would have split the sky

      And made the earth yawn.

      That spacious, red and rosy

      Eight-rimmed, eight-brimmed

      Uneven and restless

      Primordial Motherland

      Heaved like water

      In a birch-bark bucket.

      Cowards rushed to the cattle shed,

      The best of them hid in the barn…

      Mighty and vigorous

      Brave Kun Jiribineh

      With the grey horse

      Exclaimed joyfully:

      ‘How long I have been waiting for you,

      My children, my sons-in-law!

      Have you come down

      From above to see me

      Because of my famous name,

      Because of my glorious reputation;

      Or have you come

      From below?!

      We will play

      Like a stallion and mare,

      Interlocking our arms and legs,

      Like the branches

      Of a flexible willow.’

      Saying so, he jumped up,

      Looked around,

      Turning hither and thither…

      There he saw a man

      On the low edge

      Of the western golden sky,

      On the opposite side

      Of his Mother Earth,

      On the top of a copper sky

      With eighty-eight pillars:

      The man was wearing

      A coat made of demon’s skin,

      Which reached down

      To the middle of his legs,

      A lion-hide tie was tightly wrapped

      Around his throat,

      He wore a flat, iron hat,

      On which he put a deer cap inside out,

      Looking like nine eagle nests,

      Brims upwards,

      And he wore six iron armours.

      He moved his ugly face up and down,

      Looking like a cave

      In a river bank.

      He stared blankly

      With his bloodshot eyes,

      Looking like undercooked fish soup.

      His eye sockets

      Were like cleft rocks.

      He opened wide his narrow mouth,

      Looking like a deep ravine

      In the Under World.

      He stuck out his tongue,

      Looking like

      A seven-and-a-half-bylas-long

      Wet lizard,⁹²

      And licked his mighty neck…

      He muttered indistinctly

      As if worried about something,

      He smiled disgustingly,

      He grinned repulsively,

      He began to resound so much

      So that the earth trembled,

      The snowstorm swirled,

      The sky shook,

      The dense forest echoed…

       Under the swirling edge Of the northern dangerous sky The maw of the abyss gaped…

      THE DEMON’S SONG

      ‘Aar-jali!

      Alatigar emine-tuomui!

      Sakha Saaryn Toyon,

      The forefather

      Of the Aiyy-Khan kin,

      With the reins on their backs;

      Sabyia Baai Khotun,

      The foremother

      Of the Kun-Erken tribes,

      The front-faced, two-legged,

      With the reins on their necks;

      Your daughter,

      Fair-faced Tuyarima Kuo

      With the chestnut ambler,

      Whose brother is Kun Jiribineh

      With the grey horse –

      She was destined for me

      When she was three,

      She was intended for me

      When she was six,

      My little one, my sweet,

      Thinking I would kiss

      Her round, fair face,

      Thinking I would enjoy and caress

      Her wonderful body

      That precious part

      That glimmers through her pants,

      Imagining that she grew impatient

      Waiting for me,

      Thinking she was dizzy

      With excitement

      At the thought of my arrival,

      From far, far away,

      At last I have come…

      Thinking the son of the Upper World,

      The good man Kytygyras Baranchai

      The Swiftfoot⁹³

      Would snatch her and steal her,

      I have come earlier

      So as not to get exhausted

      While chasing him.

      Have I come too late?!

      If so,

Скачать книгу