Many years ago,
As legend tells us so,
In the Zhideli Baisyn land,
An old man by wealth was fanned.
Konyrat was tribe of his,
Baibori was name of his.
Look at his prosperity,
Fatted sheep variety.
Exactly, ninety herds of sheep,
And camels among the sands he keeps.
Ninety thousand pieces, he knows,
In the flood meadows
You can’t count the herds, indeed,
Unridden horses he feeds.
There, on one side above the river.
There’s a herd of raven, and in the other.
A white horse and a bay horse with shimmer.
It was lucrative and rich,
In the land of Zhideli Baisyn envy of each.
The old man didn’t have one:
He was childless, say everyone.
If you have no children, a soulmate,
What’s more unfortunate than your fate?
If he had a younger brother,
It would be an endless wonder.
If he had an older brother,
He would have thanked heaven rather.
He had no brothers,
And he was sad and bothered.
He was lonely and childless.
But distantly related to him,
Was Kultai, the kinship reminds us,
What a kinship was that?
When his eightieth year get at,
With his eyes fixed on the east,
Bai said:
— I will leave the world.
As I came into the world, alone,
Holding hope, the unfulfilled one,
I have no children with my wife.
Fate gives me no son in my life,
And my treasury goes to strangers,
And my livestock will be devoured by strangers.
I have no son, I have no son,
I have no son!
That’s the cause of trouble one!
All the people with many children
They all look down on me when come,
They speak with a heavy hand…
Before the God I shed my tears,
I curse myself a lot without fear.
My friends shun me.
My work is useless.
My body is weakened,
Suffering from an illness.
And I walk like a blind man.
My bones are softer wax than.
My guests are mock me behind my back
My life is bitter and empty and black.
A child is my dream,
And things are not what they seem.
Childless man is indebted to everyone.
I can’t live without one,
The rumor going around the nomads tells that
Baibori has no children,
And I’m so hurt by such words
I’m so sick to my bones.
I have no fun in the world.
I wish I had never been born, he told!
Baibori shed tears,
Day and night he grieves.
To all who saw his deep sorrow
And heard his complains,
Felt sorry for him again and again.
Let’s talk about Kultai.
Kultai had a slave.
What was the slave’s fate?
From the morning till night,
She collected dung cakes dried.
God gave a son to the slave.
Baibori became the father of that son,
Adopted the baby that’s mean.
Celebrated with rich parade,
With goat-fighting and wrestling.
And he said:
— Even though he’s not mine,
I have him for my pleasure, this time.
And named the child Ultan.
That’s what this Ultan was like:
His chest was as size of a hut,
A caravan could enter his throat.
His neck was as strong as a rock,
Bat eared like a shield block.
His nose flattened, as if broken.
A mark that a foot would close on,
A place for a hearth.
The mouth is huge and fangs in his mouth,
Like sharpened blades.
The chin is like a cliff.
The gaze is sullen and threatening.
Every eye sockets a zindan, unflinching.
That’s what this Ultan was like.
And Ultan, when he grew up,
He became strong enough.
And began call them fruitless,
His elderly fathers —
Baibori and Kultai
Chasing the old ones out of the yurt:
«Wealth and honour are not for fools.
You need not a cattle» he says.
Analyk, Baibori’s wife,
Weeping from dawn to dawn,
Complaining:
— The years go by,
Trouble follows us, we cry
There’s no joy for us,
No joy for us.
If you listen to me,
If you approve of my command.
Then to Azret Sultan together
We should go to worship him,
And the saint will not refuse us
He will give a stronghold and a shield to us,
He will perform a miracle
He will renew our flesh…
And if the God forbids…
On the road of the prairie
We will die with you.
Bai agrees with his wife,
Takes one sheep alive,
And scatters the rest of the cattle,
Crying over his fate,
He prepares to go to a long journey,
He opens the treasury chest,
Gives away half and takes the rest.
The old man gets ready the camel,
He loads down it with luggage, apparel
Covered it with rugs and mats.
The old Analyk weeps for that,
Life is pretty, shitty.
They decided on Wednesday to go,
They can’t look at anything, just so.
Tears are streaming from their eyes,
Their faces became pale.
The whole aul is gathered at that hour.
The people follow, grieving,
They beat with their fists neck lower,
How would we live without you and your wife?
They say with deep sorrow.
At the time when the sun goes down,
As if someone build fire, red brown.
The sun as a golden swan,
Goes down.
In the twilight at one of the hills
The people, like Pleiades, stand.
-Have a safe trip, good luck!
May your dream come true!
To the departing one they shout.
Analyk weeps bitterly:
— My tongue is dry.
A hundred splinters in my heart,
And they cry.
Both of them have tears in their eyes.
Their eyes have become mother-of-pearl.
Bai moans with his wife,
Like a cawing raven in the night.
like a shelterless crows of the lowland.
And the old couple wander,
Talking about their child,
And there’s no other worry.
The desert is here, the desert is there,
And there’s no other way.
Forty days’ journey through the sands,
Greedy wind the trail covers up.
No shelter in the vast desert,
No trace on the dry ground.
In the dark night there is not any light
No light flickers on the road of night.
No place for old couple to rest.
The sun dazzles them by day,
The sun scorches them.
The path seems endless.
The poor old man made a vow
To walk through the desert on foot now,
He walks barefoot
Through the wild sands.
And his wife followed him, but,
Their feet are hurt by nick and in blood.
So, they walked for many days,
And they were exhausted and blaze
The old ones couldn’t stand anymore.
They had one day to go.
A day journey left to mazar
They saw the Hajis coming.
Bai said to his wife:
— Show these people our goods,
Divide into half
And give to them the half.
They’ll take the silver and gold,
With humility and gratitude he told
And help us by pray to be hold.
Here is Azret Sultan’s mazar.
The old couple have spent seven days,
They have spent seven days on the stale ground,
And they wept and prayed for a sign.
Waiting for a sign but there was no sign
And they continue their trip.
From one shrine to another,
And from one holy place to other,
They wandered, thrown off balance.
In Kara-Tau there were countless tombs.
Who will bring them good news?
And the Baba Ata tomb
In those distant times
Was simple and poor, but nice.
There was no slab on it,
No fence around it.
The walls were not soaring, strong,
No shining blue the dome.
In two or three days the old men,
Made the grave so again,
As it still stands now
In the midst of an arid desert.
The goal of the paths and the delight of the eyes.
To the craftsmen all their coffers
They have paid for their labour.
And once more through the steppe they wander.
They looked ahead,
The mountain ridge in front of them.
Here they climb the mountain, then,
Here they step on the pass.
They look out from afar,
The lake sparkles from far.
As if mountain crystal were sparkling,
The hot springs are spurting.
The water was waving and the lake is darkened,
And darkens the elms,
And a thorn in the spring
A little lower than the elm.
Tangled, intertwined.
How to get through this knotting
To the icy, clear water?
Old couple weeping and shouting
More than camels, forsaken,
And the thorns pierce their shoulders.
Suddenly, the sticky rod,
Sink Bai’s forehead,
They looked at there,
Oh my God, There’s no blood!
— A miracle! A miracle! — shouts Analyk.
— A miracle! A miracle! — says the old man.
It’s true:
The blood is not flowing!
She ripped her headscarf,
The shawl is torn,
And rag after a rag, are going.
To the spirits of her ancestors she sacrificed,
Shocked,
The twigs she carefully dismantled,
Tied them all in a row,
She raked the stones into a pile.
And, having performed an ancient rite,
She made a fire by the water,
And spread a palace for the night.
Facing to the East,
Baibory performed the namaz.
And with his wife
Lay down on the palace.
The pilgrims are fast asleep,
And the fire of gold grieves,
The dawn rises in the East.
Here on the grey donkey on that side
Following the Lord’s path, a man rides,
Seems to be a Saint.
He clutches his staff with his hand,
His coat on his shoulders
With gold brocade is covered.
And his turban is like snow.
Pushing the old couple aside to walk through.
He speaks like a holy man:
— I know, I know as well as you,
What you two cripples need.
You have left a peaceful home.
From grave to grave you visit
In the dry steppes you’ve wandered.
For offspring you have prayed
To the Saints and the God.
The Saints have such a life:
Each of them is dealing with their field.
But we had to gather a council,
For we all have no rest.
From your lamentations and your tears,
You have stirred up everyone in paradise.
I made a suggestion at that time
That we might come to your complaints,
To help you, barren ones, in your distress,
To give you two children,
A daughter and a son.
Eighty-eight righteous Saints
And a hundred thousand without ten,
The Shaykhs supported me, then,
The Allah, has listened to your prayers,
And bent ears to our prayers.
Hey, poor man, open your eyes!
Open your ears, you wretched one!
I am Shashty Aziz, sent down from heaven,
I say: your firstborn son is the future hero even.
I give him a name — Alpamys
No fire can burn him,
No lead can pierce him,
No sword can cut him down,
He’ll be young all time.
And give his sister the name,
As Allah has commanded — Karlygash.
Now get up, Baibori,
Wake up your Analyk
And say thanks to the Creator!
Immediately from the bed,
Baibori and his wife bowed before the Saint.
Exclaiming: Thank you!
God has showered us with gifts,
And thou, helped us with this!
And they bowed down before him,
And a piece of brocade coat
They tore off for a talisman,
And the Saint melted away like smoke,
Like the morning fog…
And the old men went home,
With the light heart and light step.
Analyk followed her husband,
Looking around like a young wolf,
And Analyk was expecting,
She couldn’t eat what she was used to,
And she said: My darling,
Analyk is in trouble:
I’m starving, I can’t eat mutton,
I see here’s the kazy and karta,
But I can’t eat, I’m nauseous.
You were once a batyr,
You were full of great strength…
I wish you’d shoot me something,
That will give me the new breath
I would eat a leopard!
And then Baibori cried out:
— Is it true, Oh light of my eyes?
O, my layer of rag!
Your belly is not empty?
Let me take my gun,
I’ll shoot the leopard than,
I’ll satisfy your whim!
And they went into the thick forest,
Followed the path the longest,
And into some wild land,
Where the green light is thickened,
And on the narrow forest path
They found the trail of the beast.
A leopard roared in the distance;
The Baibori came close,
With his rifle behind the tree trunk,
The bighorn beast lurked, and shrunk,
The spotted beast appeared.
Eyes as if made of glass,
The forehead was rounded like a bowl.
The beast had wild power,
But now it’s time is up.
A gunshot shook the old forest,
The bullet entered the beast’s heart.
Baibori, in his haste.
He runs up with a knife in his hand.
He turns the beast upside down,
He sharpens the knife on the gun
With his sleeve rolled up,
The carcass is spread out,
He drenches the blade with blood,
He rips open the hide with the knife,
And he takes out the entrails,
And the heart and liver he gives to his hungry wife.
Analyk bakes them in the fire,
And the smoke tickles her nostrils,
In her mouth a saliva runs,
She can’t wait any longer;
She takes the meat, half-cooked,
greedily she eats it,
She tears it apart,
Now she is warm enough,
She became for forty years younger…
They kept on their way back,
They reached their homeland,
Together to their aul they returned,
Into the land of Zhideli-Baisyn
They were welcomed by the Konyrat tribe,
They were welcomed by both old and young…
And then they found out
That their herds had round out
And that their chests are full of heavy,
Like in the old days, the golden treasury.
Analyk walks, heavy,
And full, and white, ruddy,
Like she is younger.
Analyk plays with her hips,
She moves smoothly,
She’s like a mare and filly.
And in her womb the child is moving,
To come out of the dungeon though.
Nine months, nine days
A son lays in her womb,
Pouring like sweet fruit.
She has reached the day,
In her heart the pain,
Hit like a dagger.
She clenched her teeth, melted pain,
Analyk laid down.
To the dried-up stream bed,
The living water came out,
And it boiled and flowed,
Like a spring stream from the mountain,
Analyk gives birth to a baby, there is no doubting.
And rejoiced man,
Invited guests to that one.
The guests came crowd after crowd,
And for them nine hundred sheep slaughtered.
Ninety foals, ninety camels the bai shot down,
In ninety yurts people eat meat and drink.
Bai entertains his dear guests,
He presents them with fur coats.
He gives away young horses,
And sheep and goats,
And he lost count of gifts.
Without present no one leaves.
Whoever doesn’t get one thing, steals another thing.
And two years later
Another child came into the world:
Analyk gave birth to a daughter.
A daughter like the moon,
And her beauty shone,
And her braid was flowing,
And you’d give your soul to look at her.
As Shashty Aziz commanded,
They named his son Alpamys,
And his sister, Karlygash.
Let childhood be carefree
Let the children grow up happily!
We interrupt the poem here.
At the same time, there was Sarybai from the Shekty tribe. He also had no children for a long time. Many years prior to birth of Alpamys and Karlygash Baibori talked to Sarybai many times, and both agreed on follows:
— If God bless us and gives children, a boy me to me and a daughter to you, we would do matchmake, raise them and marry them. Our dreams would have been fulfilled and we would have left this world happily.
And so Sarybai’s wife gave birth to a daughter. They named her Gulbarchin.
Then Baibori and Sarybai, became matchmakers, ate a sheep’s fat together and smeared flour on each other’s faces. So, this custom originated from them.
But one day Sarybai thought:
«My future son-in-law is his father’s only son. If he dies, my daughter will have to become the wife for evil Ultan. Since it is not too late, I will flee to a better place and take my daughter away. And he moved away with all Shekty trib’es people from Zhideli Baisyn.
Alpamys was ten years old. He began to run the tribe.
Alpamys was very strong. Boys with whom he happened to fight died of his blow. And people were afraid to let out children from yurts.
One day Alpamys was looking for some boys to play but found no one. Then he saw an old woman sitting on an umek and weaving loom. A boy was sleeping beside her on the ground. Alpamys came up and started to wake the boy.
— Get up, let’s play! — he said and pushed the boy so hard on the side that he died instantly.
The old woman got up and said to Alpamys:
My only son has died, she says,
You are the one to blame for this.
Than to ruin innocent children,
You should bring your Gulbarchin.
Sarybai didn’t give you his daughter
And he left his native land.
And in response Baibori’s son said:
— I can’t understand your saying,
What did you say? Say it again!
All that we have told you above,
The woman told to Alpamys.
And he ran home as a gazelle,
He ran as fast as he could.
As he ran something he shouted;
Tears were burning his cheeks.
And with his resentment last,
Into his father’s yurt rushed.
And with a single blow he smashed
The giant chest.
The best of the chain mail he took,
A gigantic bow, also took,
And a cinnabar spear,
A sword of gold on his belt,
A shield that combined to his sword and helmet.
And then he ran to the meadow.
To take the horse of best.
But running away from him
The swift-footed steed,
None a single he caught.
And, as before, they are free
To kick up flying dust
And trample the steppes’ grass.
Alpamys was taken by sadness,
And the batyr wept in longing.
But he saw a chubby horse
Not far away was that horse.
Oh, what an ugly horse,
An ugly, lousy horse!
A horse without a tail and without a mane!
Here the horse said to him:
— Come and get on me.
You won’t find a better horse than me!
Alpamys: — I can’t get on you,
Knights are not honored to ride such a horse.
And he grabbed horses with his bridle,
Look, the same horse is in front of him again
— Put the bridle on me,
I won’t get away from you.
I am the gift of fate,
And, Baichubar is my name.
Two strong, invisible wings
The Mother Earth has miraculously given me.
What a bridle-wielding dzhigit!
But the horse still stands,
It’s bumping a head on shoulder,
And with itself furious,
Then the batyr picked up horse
And he threw it away to the ground,
But the horse was intact with skill outstanding,
Like an iron horse was standing,
Alpamys, though he was known,
Even the people nurtured him,
He could think wise.
So, he thought: «The God has judged it so.
Isn’t the fate sending me this horse?» —
And he looked at the horse in the light,
He put a saddle on it, tight,
And set off on his far journey,
Without telling anybody.
The chain mail around his chest,
And on his belt a golden sword
Rattle together with his spear red
The dzhigit rides menacingly.
Baichubar flies like a bird, embarrassingly
Under the horse the ground trembles.
In one day a twelve-day ride this horse takes,
So, took much in twelve days,
That another horse in a year won’t take.
The horse, like a ramrod under the saddle,
Stretched straight, followed to travel,
As the rider looks, there is dust above there.
Fire blowing across the steppe, he sees from afar,
The troops are encamped there.
Innumerable ranks they were
With the striped silk banner
Half-moon shape placed on it.
He saw behind the troops
A whole city of colored tents.
The road was straight to go there.
A slab could be seen by the road,
as snow white and wide,
And there were writings on that slab.
Alpamys leaned towards it,
There was a news of multitude.
To understand this letter,
One must remind here:
Over there is a large Kalmyk camp,
The strongest man in it — Karaman,
He has long been in love with Gulbarchin.
He came to Sarybai
And said to him: «Sarybai,
Give me Gulbarchin as a wife!
And also pay me a tax,
Ten thousand cattle, as a start!
Sarybai couldn’t give up his daughter,
Karaman was no match for her!
Gulbarchin didn’t want to mess her life,
And didn’t want to become Karaman’s wife,
She decided to fight,
And on a miserable afternoon alone
She decided to run from home.
But her native Zhideli-Baisyn places
Was so far away as happiness.
And then on a grey stone
She wrote the following:
«If Alpamys will pass this steppe,
And saw what here I wrote,
And read what I write down here,
And he would know about my breathe.»
After writing a letter,
Sarybai’s daughter,
Gulbarchin turned back,
She couldn’t breathe because of crying
And ran all night,
to catch home she was trying.
The God saw this writing:
«Why not to help her the happiness finding?»
To the letter Alpamys approached,
The letter to him all explained.
Meanwhile, Gulbarchin
To her father Sarybai returned,
But he was not happy with such end.
Karaman comes to him again,
Says the Kalmyk giant:
— Give me my bride,
Otherwise right now and here,
I’ll slaughter your cattle all over!
— And he gnaws his knees,
And roars like a wild beast,
So cold was Karaman’s iron face.
Alpamys, the letter read.
The justice decided to revert,
He was brave and strong-willed,
And could not let to his enemies
Give his dear bride,
His beloved Gulbarchin.
Running among the steppes the road,
Was led, wide and straight,
And his steed rushed him forward.
The horse swallows like water the space
through the steppe him rushes.
If a Kazakh people meets a dzhigit
They would give honour and show the road,
They would tell him how in a steppe foreign
Sarybai’s daughter lives,
Can we believe her writings?
If a dzhigit meets a Kalmyk
He’ll have to fight,
And the fight will end with cut off head!
Alpamys is holding his bow,
He wriggles like a serpent,
He has a sharp sword as dragon’s tongue
He holds it in his strong hand,
He raises it up to the clouds
And threatens with fury his foes.
For a long time didn’t get off his saddle,
It’s as if he’s stuck to the saddle…
There was a column dust in the distance,
It was the Kalmyk army countless
Covering the face of the earth.
Alpamys became so angry,
He is dressed with bells on.
Then says the batyr:
— Here I attack alone;
The whole world is against me,
Hundred sorrows, afflictions for more seven time,
Perhaps an hour before the end,
I turn to thee, the God.
I beseech thee in tears.
Please help my mother and father.
For my Karlygash sister
They stay without me
For our wounded people
And the Zhideli Baisyn in whole!
I trust you my horse, too.
On the field of battle
There is countless army.
Help to a lonely man,
My enemies surround me with a gun.
No matter how loudly I shout,
I cannot help here with it.
I don’t have enough strength,
To defeat my enemies.
A man can win the girl’s heard
With help of and through the spear.
So, the strongest can be with her.
Humiliation is not for me!
And, on the stirrups,
Alpamys, his horse whipped,
— «Alatau!» — he shouted,
«Alatau is the clan’s cry.
Alatau as the thunderstorm roar.
The vast expanse it shakes,
To the blue mountains it reaches.
At this very hour, at last,
Gulbarchin to her home entered.
And her parents asking:
What is wrong with you,
And where have you been?
Then Gulbarchin here heard
as thundering, Alpamys’s shout.
-Your batyr has started a war.
Do you hear, my dear a lion’s roar? —
Say to her father and mother
And gave hugs and kisses to her.
Alpamys, like a wolf on a sheep invading
On his enemies swoops down.
The crowds are split in two by the sword,
A sword of a light blue blade and golden hilt.
And with strain cuts down the dzhigit.
Under the sword only blood hisses
And heads fly off from the shoulders.
Under the blizzard of hot arrows.
But Alpamys is unharmed.
Baichubar is in sweat.
Like a haze over the sand,
Like ligthning on the fly,
In one edge, and to another,
Alpamys goes back and forth
On his way chops enemies.
On invisible wings soars it.
Quick as a reed cat,
As swooping down on greedy rats,
Deftly beating his enemies Alpamys.
And then one of the enemy
wounded by a spear on thigh
With a long groan,
To Karaman’s camp took a run,
And between the tents rushing;
He fell down in front of the Khan,
«O khan Karaman» he murmured,
“You are an exemplar of the legitimate authority,
Thou are in thine powerful right hand
Keep a whole moon-like world.
You should know the new
that from the distant steppes
A mighty batyr came here to you.
He is still a young dzhigit.
But he rules a bloody feast.
And your whole brave troop
has been slaughtered by him.
Before my eyes I saw him still.
Look! He wounded me in the thigh.
You need a bucket for my blood,
Otherwise cannot wound …
Oh, my khan! – he is not a simple one.
He shouts: «I’ll take Gulbarchin!»
Why do you let him here ride down?
On his horse our brothers tramp down?
Beat our brothers with sword and spear?
Karaman became very angry.
— Where is my raven horse? — he shouts,
— Where is my war sword? — he roars.
And he’s driven by a thirst for vengeance.
like a camel in spring he roars,
like a wild beast he howls.
Wildly he looks around.
his feather cap puts on a head,
at one jump gets on the saddle,
his black eyebrows furrowed in anger,
He rides his raven horse,
as an arrow up the hill rushes.
The corpses under the hill cannot be counted,
And so manys of them are scattered!
And Karaman shakes his blade,
Black rage poured and,
Karaman wildly mooing like a bull,
And his mooing was like a thunder,
And his mooing through the earth rumbled,
And spread through the steppes and plains.
And, hearing the terrible sound,
At the tinkling spring
From hands her jug dropped Gulbarchin
And started crying:
— In an unkind hour.
God sent me to live here.
My beauty has ruined me.
And my love, Alpamys!
The dzhigit’s armour will not help,
His life cannot save.
So, he could fall in an unequal battle!
Saying these words
As a bird to the battlefield she hastens.
In front of Gulbarchin, like the moon,
In full martial steel a dzhigit appears.
But Alpamys has no time here,
As for the battle he prepares:
He is holding the red lance,
on his foe is fixed his gaze.
And Gulbarchin is soared and cried,
by his inattention she is offended:
— He doesn’t look at me
My dear dzhigit,
But let his star be high
than all the stars in the sky!
If fades away his star, then
with no power, I’ll fall down.
Turn around, Alpamys, look here!
If you burn out in flames there,
Then it’s time for me, too!
to burn out same as you.
Alpamys replied back to her:
— If you feel sorry for me,
My light, then don’t stand there,
In the hour of battle in front of the horse.
This is a bad sign, Gulbarchin.
You should to go home, Gulbarchin!
It is not allowed for weak women
To lead out of battle the men.
If it’s predicted by fate
To be together for two of us
The links would be connected
And no one can separate us,
I will not die in our hour of need.
Be patient and wait!
Wipe away your tears and go home!
And when she heard these words,
The best words in the world,
Gulbarchin turned back
To wait at home for her sweetheart.
— Where is that Kazakh? — Karaman shouted,
— The Kazakh, on his horse spotted?
I am the great Kalmyk Khan,
To dust and ashes I’ll turn him!
To the heavens he looks up
Alpamys, a young fighter
— It’s a shame to flee from the field of honor!
My father instructed me,
That I should not engage in battle,
Coz I am still weak and young.
My father’s right, there’s no doubt,
And fault is only mine! — he thought
But I’m here, I will hold it,
And I will not leave.
Even I’m small, but I am brave!
And while he was all these grieving,
And while he was all these thinking
And was blabbing on,
And while his horse was standing
The ground with its hooves digging,
At this very time, all of a sudden
The enemy drove up to Alpamys
And he grabbed with a club
Alpamys on the head.
That anyone would fall from the saddle
And in the grass lay dead,
Even Kap-mountain would equal with the ground,
If it got that grab.
But Alpamys was unharmed,
Only his helmet was bent,
Also the horse under him trembled
And carried away Alpamys among the steppe.
Karaman, therr trail chasing,
his black horse was whipping.
«Hey, dzhigit, get away from him,
Don’t expect mercy from him!
Take a dim view of him!
If not with a spear, then with a sword.
He would try to catch you.
It’s impossible to escape him at all!
Beware, hey Alpamys!» —
The wind whistling in his ears.
Alpamys begged the horse:
— Don’t be angry that I’m chasing you.
Carry me away to open spaces,
Lift me up to the heights!
Let me see my native land!
Stand up for my share!
If I should die in the battle
To the ravenous crows
Don’t give my corpse,
Bring it to my mother and father.
Say the: Here’s your murdered son!
Don’t ask people for honor
If you come back alone
Without me to Zhideli Baisyn!
Karaman whips the stallion.
Sweat on the horse neck runs down.
Then became angry Karaman:
— Why are you sweating?
Why are you shivering?
Be damned, you raven horse!
You are lagging behind!
Or is my weight the reason for your delay?…
The horse flew like the wind on the steppe.
— Karaman’s horse is a raven,
The horse flew like the wind on the steppe,
Baichubar flew faster:
He stretched out in a string,
He tore the air like an arrow,
The wind whistled loudly in ears
Both to batyr’s and horse’s.
— The load is heavy! — said Karaman,
And he tore the chain mail from his shoulders,
And threw away the heavy sword and its holders,
And his lash, being in rage,
He tossed his spear after the sword.
from the race the thunder is rumbling
the earth around is shaking,
And the unarmed Khan gallops
On his raven horse.
And that the khan became unarmed,
The chub horse understood at once —
The chub horse, Alpamys’s horse.
It slowed down as if it was caught up,
And Alpamys struck a blow,
Like a falcon that sprints down.
Here he gives a battle cry,
«I’m not yours!” and goes away.
And, gnashing his teeth,
And whipping his raven horse,
Karaman, like a wolf follows
Rushes after hot pursuit,
He is obsessed with anger and longing:
«I wish I could pay him back right now!
I wish I could fight with him at least once!»
The batyr strikes again
And strikes with his sword the same,
And then he strikes for second time.
Hete the khan lost both hands,
Falls off his horse rolling over,
And holes the steppe with his helmet all over,
And under the sharp sting of the spear
Khan squeals like a pig.
Alpamys shouts here:
— To the defeated, death and shame!
The spear helps to get the girl.
Whoever is strongest takes her!
On the surrounding hills
Two nations stand making walls,
Yes, they were standing made up wall
People were watching this battle,
They say: «Was the khan not smart at all,
He shouldn’t throw the weapon.
When people go to court,
Take the eloquence with them,
And when they go to fight,
They take a sword with them!
Karaman was reckless!
Alpamys saddled his horse.
He was trembling with excessive strength;
Like boiling metal in a cauldron.
The rage was still bubbling in his chest,
And his teeth glittered, between weathered lips.
Like a wolf in the midst of a flock,
It looked around and growled.
Everyone was frightened of the young fighter.
Baichubar almost danced under the saddle
From its neck sweat dripped.
The horse its bit was biting and gnawing,
There was a terrible clatter of its hooves
Its chest like a goatskin was swollen,
And it was hot like a frying oven.
Little by little the horse cooled down,
And then to his bride
Alpamys batyr hurried.
A stranger and the dearest running to her
With the happiest news
«Your betrothed is jumping and galloping,
The brave batyr, Alpamys is coming!
Come out to meet him soon!»
Dudums, trumpets are piping, blowing,
Alpamys is being honored.
The people, rejoicing, beat their tambourines,
And all praise his triumph,
They elect him as their ruler-khan,
They took him to the golden tent,
And soft carpet for him laid,
Gave cushions of the feather,
And they please him in every way.
Cooks are scurrying in the smoke,
They make a fatty, smelly pilaf,
Chopping, slicing, frying, and baking.
Here the girls run after the bride,
Accompany Gulbarchin to the bridegroom.
Lightly moving, cheerful and slender,
She flew in like a swallow.
Like a doe, modest and quiet,
She sat on the groom’s right side.
Here boiling teapots
And on the patterned tablecloths
Plates with full of treats,
White sugar, honey in bowls,
Kazy, karta and zhal-zhaya served also.
Everything a guest could wish for
Everything is at the wedding today.
Gulbarchin is pouring tea,
She treats the guests,
And unintentionally her beloved,
She burns with the fire of her eyes.
The young people are playing games,
And when the night came,
They were too tired to continue.
They all want to sleep and can’t wait
Drowsiness glues their eyes.
The guests are scattered in their tents,
They’re asleep on their pillows.
The wedding hops overtook them.
The canopy was in the golden tent,
The downy bed was behind it.
The groom came to the bed:
Such a walk as a deer at dawn.
On its way to the watering hole.
And near among the steppes.
The steed is a dashing steed.
And the bride hesitates, and she is slow,
Like a white swan and is pale.
The bridegroom says to her, jokingly:
— Where is your wealth, dear?
Where’s your treasury golden?
Let me achieve my goal!
And Gulbarchin answers him:
— Whatever wish! Take everything!
I am your wife, from now on.
You are my lord forever!
And like a falcon on a game trapping,
He involves his Gulbarchin.
Alpamys, having punished the Kalmyk Khan, left his father-in-law Sarybai to rule in these parts.
After thirty days of marriage party and forty days of revelry, Alpamys decided to return home and having gathered the local people, requested permission to leave. After consulting, people blessed him and let them go. Sarybai saw off his daughter and son-in-law on their long journey.
They were followed by a caravan of forty camels loaded with the treasury and a gold yurt received by Alpamys as a dowry.
When Alpamys reached his nomadic pasture, he found out that in his absence Kalmyk Khan Taishyk had stolen the old Baibori’s all herds.
Loss of all cattle grieved the old man more than the loss of his loved one. He became ill with grief. And when Alpamys with his young wife appeared before him, he said:
— Get lost, Alpamys!
Get out of my sight, Alpamys!
You were born for nothing!
From your side lack of protection.
No safeguarding against misfortune.
Khan Taishyk, that dog cursed,
Took away all my property.
I have no more treasury!
He has stolen my herds,
He has stolen my flocks.
Appoint a chase, bold face,
Bring back all that the Khan has taken from me!
Otherwise, the famous Baibori
won’t be your father.
If you won’t get back flocks and herds
You’ll be held in slavery
and rot in a foreign place!
And Alpamys answered his father:
— It hurts me to hear all these.
I’ll follow Taishyk,
I’ll bring back your herds!
Also, your treasury I’ll seize!
If not, I’ll perish in a foreign land,
I’ll be lost, I’ll rot in the dungeon!
I’ll cover on my horse a saddlecloth,
I’ll ride to Taishyk’s land-stan,
But if only I’ll leave for chase
The villain Ultan will grab you at once.
I’ll cover on my horse a saddlecloth…
But your fate is watching at you,
Soon, very soon your time will come:
You will perish, lonely man,
From Ultan’s clinging hands.
But five mares is his price,
And he’ll take his own completely!
And while the batyr was talking,
Has inflamed his own ardour.
The batyr became as furious as a lion,
He straightened up and grew furious.
Now he’s ready to march,
He’s rightly dressed in iron.
Being furious Alpamys
Rejected Gulbarchin’s complaints
And left her on Thursday.
And Alpamys gathered his clan,
And said: «My dear clan!
I’m going for a long journey,
I’m going to a land of foreign.
To punish Taishyk’s army,
I’m leaving my father and mother behind,
My sister Karlygash,
And my pregnant wife.
I ask you to take care of them!
I believe that when I am in leave,
You will keep away of trouble from them,
You will not give their treasuries to enemies.
You are my family, their stronghold and guardian,
You are the ultimate in.
And if my Gulbarchin
During my absence shall have a son,
Name him Jadiger!
Alpamys saying these
Left his native country,
Started on his six-month journey.
The batyr took long rides,
On his mottled horse,
Above his head, the sun
Shining like a golden crown.
On the night when Alpamys left home for chasing, Taishyk Khan had a dream. Being worried by its meaning, in the morning the khan went up the tower and addressing the people said:
— Listen here, oh my people!
I had a dream last night.
This dream weighs down my soul.
What does it presage for me?
In these dark times.
We should be wary of sleep, too.
I dreamt of a black camel.
It rages before me,
Its black saliva spitting,
And my eyes were streaming
With tears as heavy as lead.
And in my dream, I saw if
My wreath rolled off my head,
And that camel for pieces trampled it.
A lion then in front of me appeared,
It tore down my hometown,
My country it seized
And from my wife I was has part.
all men of country he enslaved,
Their wives became widows bereaved,
And with his heel to the ground
Powdered my confidents into the sand,
And my slaves sent fleeing.
I dreamt of a formidable batyr,
His handsomeness astonished the world.
He was wise, crafty, and clever.
In his thick eyelids he hid his eyes.
I see him approaching me,
He rides a chubby horse,
And I hear in my ears
The stomping of the horse’s hooves.
Tell me, whose hour is stuck?
Blood flows from my eyes.
The scarlet poppy blooms in the mountains,
If slip off, it turns to ashes.
At the mercy of fate all of us!
Isn’t this the fighter Alpamys?
To knock off my crown has planned,
Our army and all of us,
Trample into blood and mud,
And make a dreadful end for me?
If I have all my treasury
And threw at the batyr’s feet,
Would it do any good?
If I take all my horses
And let him drove them away,
Would it do any good?
Or if I marry my daughter to him?
And say: «You are my son-in-law, now»
Would it do any good?
Some way or other
Is your Khan’s would be tear apart
by the enemy like a lamb?
People answered here to Taishyk Khan:
— Oh, dear Taishyk Khan! They say: «Dreams go by contraries». Don’t pay attention. Nothing untoward would happen to us. The dream has no ill meaning.
The Khan replied:
— No, this dream shouldn’t be ignored. Go and think over, tell us how to avert trouble.
People did not know what to tell the Khan. Then an old woman named Mystan spoke:
Three hundred years old,
For dinner ate blood boiled,
Cursed like blazes all people and the world,
From the first day was cursed by God,
Eyes and gaze full of hellfire,
And four inches in height,
With mouth like a pot’s slit throat,
Viper’s tongue and horny head,
And with cat’s ass and a dog’s tail.
Then turned to Khan and said follows:
— O my Padishah! How comes that you want to marry your only daughter Karakoz to your enemy Alpamys? I have a son,
He is dishonest person,
on his head he’s got scabs,
Pus drips down his cheeks,
Mixed with snot and saliva.
If you marry your daughter to my son,
Your sadness will be turned to ashes,
I’ll bring to you, tied up Alpamys.
Seems, I’m the only one that can support in your fate.
Khan answered her:
— All right! Bring me my enemy bounded, and I will marry my daughter to your son.
Then Mustan ordered forty multi-coloured tents to be erected outside the town by the roadside. She ordered a girl to sit in each of them. And each girl should wear a jaulyk, the headdress of a young woman. And each of them should have a bottle of vodka.
And Mystan by herself went out to meet Alpamys, chose a stone by the road and sits there.
Alpamys galloped the steppe across
And he saw Taishyk’s camp not far.
He was thirsty, looking for a spring,
Look — there’s an old woman Mystan here:
Rolling on the ground,
Weeping, wailing, and grabbing his horse.
— Hey, Batyr! Have some pity on me!
Have pity! Have pity on me!
Forty fortunate sons
I have breastfed my own.
Khan Taishyk ruined me,
Khan Taishyk killed them all.
I bloomed like a rose in the garden,
Now I turned to ashes so sudden.
I’m as grey road dust.
I was like a free falcon,
But Khan Taishyk broke my wings
And threw me into the feather grass.
I prayed that you would come,
For me to pay off the khan.
Your horse is stately,
And your sword is heavy,
Your armour is made of iron.
I ask you to rest,
And then you will go on your trip.
My dear falcon, get down from your steed!
She wants to cheat him,
She pours him vodka.
— Here’s water: fresh and cold…
If you’re thirsty, drain to the dregs!
Batyr drinks it,
But he feels something wrong,
As water seems not water,
Can be honey, but also not.
But it burns the blood,
It burns his throat…
And an old woman is standing beside him,
Whispering and muttering something.
— Look, there are forty tents over there!
Forty widows are waiting for you in there,
Forty widows of my sons,
Forty young ducklings.
Sleep near them, have some rest!
They are lonely long since!
And the dzhigit believed the witch
To the fictitious sacrifice of evil and insult,
And gave his stirrup to her.
But the host’s horse is wiser:
Baichubar got angry,
It kicked the witch as hard as he could.
It knocked her to the ground.
She laid there in the dust.
And then she rose from the ground,
And hissed like a snake,
Cursed like blazes the shrewd horse:
— What a screw you have, my son?!
It’ll put thee to shame,
It’ll go poorly on four legs,
And leave thee alone in the midst of enemies,
So, you’ll be hunted down by them,
Your horse will bring to shackles!
You are my grass — mountain andyz!
You’re my grass — lake jalbyz!
Listen to me, Alpamys!
Tell you what, handsome one!
Get yourself another horse,
One of pure blood and stately bred,
And kill the mottled chubby one at once! —
That’s what Mystan said!
Alpamys was very angry,
He bit nails and frowned eyebrows,
And decided to exhaust the horse.
He was young and trusting.
He drew his sword from scabbard,
And swung at the horse…
He would have killed Baichubar,
He would lose his share,
But the evil was not done:
Forty elders came down from heaven.
The elders averted the blow,
And Baichubar alive so.
The sword penetrated deep into the earth,
It was both heavy and great,
And the batyr from the flinty earth
Derived out the serpentine blade,
And he wept bitterly afterwards,
Ashamed of his faithful horse.
Back arched like a serpent,
And humpbacked beak bent,
This witch is running forward
To call her imaginary daughters-in-law:
— Come out of the tents,
Hurry up, forty widows!
A young guest has arrived!
Offer the guest your shelter,
Serve the guest a hot plov,
Give him a drink of the spring
Refreshing water!
And at this hoarse call,
In colorful dresses all,
Here run out forty maidens,
Forty slender fictitious widows,
Embracing the guest in their arms,
They set him off gently from the saddle.
Carry him in their arms to the tent,
One the soft, flowery carpet,
Sat him down with downcast eyes.
And on the feather pillows,
Vodka is served one by one,
They smiled and sang.
Scarlet lips, eyebrows arched,
They’re all beautiful, well-matched
And one slimmer than the other.
Forty girls, forty widows
From nomadic lands and towns
They’re all tall, befitting one another.
They’re all same age.
Among them was Karakoz —
A khan’s daughter, a joy for hearts,
The honorable among roses,
The precious among diamonds.
And now Alpamys appeared before her.
She realized that him,
Is the real batyr.
And while the feast was still going on,
This batyr became most dearer to her
Than her mother and father.
Almost being in love, to her sweetheart,
Three times she approached,
But she didn’t say a word.
A hundred splinters run into her heart,
And Karakoz went mad.
And the evening hour has come,
The stardust poured out.
Alpamys was drunking at this time
The fortieth bottle of vodka.
And he was drunk.
— Drain to the dregs, says Mystan.
— Drink up, Batyr! You’re not drunken yet!
It’s stuffy here, — she says to him
And lifted the felt.
A hot and stuffy wind blew,
Alpamys fell down and fell asleep.
Like a camel in a resting place,
Sleeping, snoring, lying motionless.
And the evils, brothers of Mystan,
They’re all jump around him,
Laughing at him,
Enjoying their tricks.
Karakoz comes up to him
So slim and white in the face,
She drove away all evils,
She said, hoarse with tears:
— Alpamys, why did you drink?
You, Batyr, have ruined yourself!
Then ordered Mystan
To dismantle the tents at once!
One tent was like a tulip,
The other two were like a cherry,
This one was red, another was bluish,
And the sixth, like a plum, a lily,
And the seventh of these tents
Was green as an emerald,
And the eighth, like a colorful garden…
They put them all on batyr,
They piled one on top of the other.
They piled the fortieth —
A black and smoke-red tent,
And Mystan with her hand
Over the batyr, a fire lit.
The flame is swirling, smoke is puffing up,
And the batyr lies unharmed,
If only they could know,
That the fire has no power over him.
People saw from the heights
From the Tasty city towers,
The fire was burning down over there,
The guards were running away,
They saw a dzhigit in the fire,
And they took him out of fire.
And while he soundly sleeps,
With a strap tied hundred times,
They drag him to show to the Khan,
And Mystan rushes after them.
And Taishyk rejoiced:
As he saw in his dream the mighty batyr,
And now before him appeared,
With a rough, raw belt bounded
Tied and without strength a man.
And here the old woman twists by a snake.
— Are you satisfied, my Padishah?
Was my plan bad?
The enemy is now in your hand!
— I am pleased with you, Mystan!
Said responding cheerfully the Khan.
He invites guests for a feast,
He asks to serve the tablecloths,
The drums and tambourines are beaten also.
To the trumpet-drummers — to sound the trumpets,
The hangmen — to kill Alpamys!
The hangmen chop Alpamys,
But break their swords,
They shoot at point-blank range
At him with their flintlock rifles.
But it doesn’t kill him, either.
down the throat they ram a poison,
They want him in water to drown.
But they can’t poison him,
Also, cannot drown,
Nor could they wake him up.
Batyr sleeps like a top,
And snores at the same time.
— What can we do with him? asks Taishyk.
I know executions basic, since I was a child
I understand many in executions,
But never seen anything like this,
I’ve never heard of it,
That man hasn’t ever been harmed
No by fire, no by sharp axe,
Neither snake venom nor water.
So, how can send a batyr
To the land of the dead?
If we don’t kill him,
we’ll have a big problem,
My terrible dream may come true…
Who can answer my question?
What shall we use to kill the prisoner?
The Khan’s daughter Karakoz,
Wants to save Alpamys;
«Send away the hangmen!” She says.
“Hangmen will not help here.
Leave Alpamys near me
For seven days and seven nights.
I will make an end of him!
The father was suspicious,
And didn’t believe his daughter,
So, the Kalmyk Khan decided.
In a dark dungeon to keep Alpamys.
In a thirty-nine and three arcs deep
With as a jar narrow-mouth.
The lid off — pushed off!
And now as in the dark night
In a deep hole, as black as a coal,
The earth’s guts are gleaming.
And when you look, you can’t see a thing
Along the road in a noisy crowd,
To lock Alpamys in the dungeon.
Kicking and spitting at him
Rolling on the ground
Like a cannon ball.
And drop him head over heels
Into the pitch dark of the grave.
But, flying down into the darkness, Alpamys,
Like a pitcher in the well, was hovered.
And went down slowly as if walked,
Because in the earth inside
The forty forefathers
caught him in the air,
Brought him down into the darkness,
All straps on him untied.
And to the sky then returned.
And the poor dzhigit woke up,
He looked around — it’s darkness damned,
He realized that he was in a dangeon,
That he was trapped by the enemy,
And was snared by Mystan,
That his armor didn’t help him,
And his horse was taken from him,
That by a cursed witch
He had driven himself to his grave.
And then the batyr cried out:
— Shame and woe! No patience, no, indeed.
No chance to escape,
Nowhere to wait help.
I have lost my stirrup,
My time has turn out badly,
And I’m no longer alive.
Without my father’s blessing
I left for my journey,
And now infamous I’m perishing.
On my mother’s breast
I won’t no longer bow my head,
I’ll never look at my sister again,
I’m condemned to rot in a dungeon.
In the zindan I lie immovable,
Buried alive.
It’s hard to die in the dark!
I weep deep in the ground.
Is it for that, dear mother,
Did I suckle your milk?
I’m hungry, and I’m cold
At the bottom of a dark hole.
Will I see the sun or not?
Will I come out of here or not?
Suddenly it became light in zindan
As if it’s dawn under the ground
As if the sun had risen
A certain light, like a diamond
Shone in the depths of the earth
Scattering arrows of light.
To Alpamys in that bitter hour.
The spirits of his ancestors descended
You will not die, they said.
A lie is powerless against the truth.
They said these words
And dispersed like a fog.
And they disappeared, and then,
Look here…
A cat comes to the dungeon
Carrying a flatbread in her teeth.
And Alpamys calls it to him:
— Come closer, kitty-kitty!
And the cat purrs and sings
And a flatbread to him it gives.
The dzhigit ate the bread,
And now he’s fed.
The cat amuses the prisoner,
Dancing, meowing and singing to him,
He’ll never get bored!
Whatever he wants,
The clever cat for him gets:
Kazy-karta and zhal-zhaya,
White sugar and honey sweetest.
And it’s not lazy and invents
Every day new games.
The prisoner grows stronger day by day.
And while he gains strength,
Let’s see what’s about Baichubar, the horse.
The good horse waits for its host:
Whoever comes closer in frontside
The horse bites and tears
Whoever comes closer in backside,
The horse kicks and slaughters.
No one can handle the horse.
Whether they serve barley to fed,
Whether it’s fed with wheat grain,
The Baichubar won’t eat anything,
Whether it’s watered with
Fresh and spring water
The Baichubar doesn’t drink,
It’s out of it.
A whole army of giants
Came to the horse,
They want to saddle it even by force,
Baichubar doesn’t want a saddle,
Here comes countless men of muscle,
And the mighty and faithful horse
Drags them back and forth,
It beats one against the other,
It drags them backwards and forwards,
And their ribs crackle, crunch,
And their heads are flying like cannonballs.
Then Taishyk Khan became angry,
He gathered foundrymen and locksmiths,
He called the blacksmiths.
And erected an iron shed.
It was neither large nor small shed,
And it was exactly seven arches wide.
On the gate there was a steel lock.
They took Baichubar on a chain,
And dragged into the shed by force,
They don’t let him be released into the steppe,
They don’t let him even move a foot,
They keep it under lock day and night.
They don’t give much fodder,
They mock the horse,
To break its proud spirit,
So that it’ll ride the khan’s and be saddled
And the culprit of all trouble,
The wicked one, Mystan,
Appeared before the khan’s throne,
And said: «O great khan,
My Padishah, you have made a vow,
You swear an oath in front of everyone
To make Karakoz my daughter-in-law.
And marry her to my son.
The hour has come, my great Khan,
Let us join in marriage our children!
To deceive your meek slave.
Don’t even dare,
You’ll never cheat!
The appointed time has come.
Oh Padishah, dress your daughter!
If you don’t mention the scabs,
Nothing wrong with your son-in-law?
You’ll be his father-in-law.
Dear Khan, he deserves honour!
And on hearing these words,
Everyone said: — She’s right!
The Khan replied, sighing:
— It was a vow made without deceit.
I’ll fulfil my vow,
But give the term nine years,
Let them get stronger, let them grow up!…
When the children are in their twenties.
We’ll have a wedding feast
With goat-fighting and wrestling,
For now, we’re matchmakers.
Kindness is repaid in kindness,
So, I am a reassurance to your all deeds,
And a shield for your old age.
Trust in my khan’s word,
Be safe, now go now!
He has persuaded her,
He saw off her,
He opened the door before her.
Day and night are quick in flight.
My tale is as true as the truth.
And now my dear friends,
I’ll tell you about the khan’s daughter.
Here she comes to her father.
— I come to you, father, to talk
Give me a yurt with safe shelter,
I’ll put it in the shade of apple trees,
In the shade of cherry and poplar trees.
Give me a hundred gelding goats
To your beloved daughter,
Let them enjoy the garden greens,
And let them play for me.
And I ask you, also, for favours.
Give me forty friends,
Girls of my age.
In winter and in summer
I’ll have more fun with them
In the meadows, steppes and mountains.
In the steppe, dear father,
There’s no temptation for us.
I’ll live there for nine years,
And then I’ll back home.
If you can’t call him a «scab»
I have no other way,
Let my soul be content!
I will marry him anyway!
Khan is pleased. Without further ado
He’s ready to give Karakoz
Forty girls for services,
Forty yurts and hundred goats.
And he orders at Tas Bulak
To mount yurts in a tight circle,
And that not a single dzhigit even,
Could interfere with the games of girls,
No one should trample the maiden’s meadows!
Year after year passes,
And Karakoz lives in the steppe,
And in the summer heat swim forty girls.
Splashing with crystal water…
But Karakoz is not happy,
And she is pale and misty,
Like a young moon.
She lost sleep and peace,
And suffers in thousand bitter pains,
She sheds torrents of tears,
All day long among the steppe wanders,
Looking for someone to help her in her trouble,
To tell her and show her
Where is the captive Alpamys-batyr,
Where in a dungeon-penitentiary he dwells?
Wandering through the steppes, mountains
The inconsolable Karakoz.
And behind her footsteps,
Forty friends rush in her wake,
And in their gazelle’s eyes
One can see surprise and frightaware:
What does she want in the mountains, steppes?
Is she well or not?
Should we call for a doctor?
Or maybe a fortune teller?
The maidens came to the stream,
They came in a line like martens,
Suddenly jumps out of the bushes
Bursts into the maiden’s circle…
Mystan’s son, with a club in his hand,
Bare-footed and wearing a cap,
A cap sewn with a deliberate purpose,
To keep people don’t see the scab.
Flattering to his girls:
— «How beautiful you are!
He’s tied with a handkerchief like a grandmother,
He is itches and walks shaky.
And, looking at him sadly,
You are fool! — Karakoz sighs,
Only a husband as you are, would bring such shame!
The girls take him to the shore,
Tear his handkerchief away,
They knock off his cap
And they laugh seeing the scab.
And the fool runs away, losing his cap,
From the mockers far away beyond Tas Bulak.
And so in the bosom of their native land,
The girls spent seven years, as planned.
The years flew by like a dream.
It was their golden years, passing as a stream,
It was like playing the accordion.
They didn’t see their families
And no one’s ever been there.
Even with her mother and father
Karakoz wasn’t keep in touch
She was thinking about Alpamys so much.
She gave herself to love.
If only she could find him!
To feel the grace of meeting!
Let us talk about other matters.
Namely about the gelding goats,
The ones khan gave to his daughter.
Keikuat is the shepherd of the goats.
He grazed them for seven years in a row,
He watered them and fed very well,
So that, like silk their wool shone,
That each one was like a horse.
And each one had a gold ring
Around their neck belling.
The Khan-father for the wedding feast
Wanted to save those goats.
And one day it happened:
At the zindan, where Alpamys
Was imprisoned for seven years.
A goat got into a rage,
It ran as fast as could,
And knocked down the heavy lid,
And hung by its horn on the lid
And a little bit later fell down.
Keucuat came running to the dungeon,
He shouted, gasping for breath with tears:
— Hey, do you hear me, Alpamys?
Give me the goat back!
Otherwise, scolding the shepherd,
Will be angry Karakoz!
Alpamys says to him:
— I’ll tell you this, Keikuat:
Even though I don’t want any harm to you,
But I won’t give you back the goat.
You’d better all your goats
throw here to me in a row
One by one every day!
I’ll strengthen my body and spirit,
I’ll straighten up my mighty camp
And I’ll leave this dungeon
Where I have spent years in suffering.
I will not be in debt to you,
I’ll make you happy
I will help you in everything.
Keikuat got angry and said:
— I would like to know how you can make me happy, lying under seven layers of earth? But, I may seriously take off the vestige of your life!
Saying these, Keikuat rolled the mill stone to the dungeon and threw it down.
Alpamys caught the mill stone and threw it back out of the dungeon. The mill stone buzzed over Keikuat’s head with a humming sound and the shepherd was frightened to death. Then he said to himself:
— I will fulfil the prisoner’s request. He is a mighty batyr! If I shall die, I will die, but if I stay alive, then Alpamys will reward me.
And Keikuat throw one goat to Alpamys on daily basis.
Once Keikuat came to the dungeon and called:
— Hey, Alpamys, I have no more goats; yesterday I threw you the last one. What shall I do now?
Alpamys answered:
— Here, take it! This is a horn-surnai
Made of goat horns and bones!
Take a sit on the road and play,
Play whatever you want!
If they’ll ask: Who made it?
You’d better resort to a lie.
Just say the truth,
To Karagoz alone!
Keikuat, took the horn-surnai, hid in the roadside bushes and played on it.
Karakoz was passing by with her friends. They sought him out in the bushes and asked:
— Where did you get it, say it?
Who made it for you, say it?
Will you answer us or not?
But Keikuat was silent.
Then the girls threw the shepherd to the ground and started to stamp him, asking:
— Who made you this surnai?
Where did you get it, say it, do not hide!
Otherwise, you will go to the other world!
But Keikuat is still in silent.
Then they lit a fire and dragged the bound Keikuat into the fire, saying:
– Where did you get the pipe, you scoundrel?
Who made you that surnai?
Tell us, or burn in the fire!
And in reply the shepherd from the fire:
— I am not afraid of your threats!
I will tell everything only to Karakoz.
Karakoz, come closer to me!
Karakoz, listen to me!
I don’t need this game.
Send these witches home!
I’ll tell you everything to you, alone!
Karakoz chased her friends away,
She took him out of the fire and said:
— You mark my kindness!
She asked the shepherd a question:
— Where did you get the pipe, tell me!
Who made you the surnai?
Keikuat said to Karakoz:
— I will answer your question.
There is a prisoner sitting in a dark dungeon,
He has no equal in strength to him,
He is a real dzhigit in spirit,
From sheer boredom, he got this work:
From the bones and horns
Of your hundred goats,
Sitting in a hole at the bottom
He made this surnai,
He made it and gifted to me
Alpamys is his name.
The khan’s daughter blushed,
The khan’s daughter turned pale,
In her chest her heart ached,
The heart fluttered just like,
The turtle dove is trapped.
Karakoz says: «Lead me, there!
Hurry up, Keikuat!
Show me at once
That zindan where the batyr suffers.
Bring me peace and patience!
And she followed Keikuat
She ran aspired
Towards her hidden goal,
Faster than the arrow feathered.
Without touching with her light foot
The yellowing grass of the steppe,
She flew to her beloved.
The sun failed to burn
The narrow maiden’s shoulders.
And heavily sighed the steppe.
Haze heat trembled in the distance.
Sets so high the sun,
in the fiery dust surrounded.
And on the rusty skin of the earth
Was gaping the vent of the dungeon.
Karakoz and Keikuat,
Standing by the dungeon,
Looking down,
Leaning and calling:
— Are you there, Alpamys?
— Yes, I am here!
Karakoz says:
— Seven years,
I have lost track of you,
Only about you
All seven years I’ve been grieving,
And torrents of tears shedding,
I want to meet you,
And my name is Karakoz.
I am Kalmyk Khan’s daughter.
Teach me how to help you
And what to do to this world return you?
Tell me, how can we get rid of a trouble?
I’ll do everything for you!
Alpamys said in reply:
— I won’t forget your worries.
But you can’t help me.
And no one can save me,
Except Baichubar, the horse.
Don’t you know where it is now?
And Karakoz answers him:
— Baichubar is locked in an iron shed,
With iron door
And a steel lock of three-pound,
And sentinels are walking around.
What shall I do? Give me here some advice!
Then Alpamys threw his clothes to her and she caught them.
— Put it on you, said Alpamys. It keeps my smell which the horse scents and remembers very well. Tuck your hair into your cap, smear your face with mud and pretending as a dervish walk to the leeward side of the iron shed so that Baichubar can smell me.
Karakoz did just that.
As soon as Baichubar smelled his host, it tore down the iron wall of the shed, dispersed the sentries away, ran up to the imaginary dervish, smelled and rejoicing, started galloping around the dervish.
Then Taishyk Khan came out to the dervish.
And the astonished Khan said:
— Which countries did you come?
And who are you? Aren’t you Alpamys?
Are you his ear or his eye?
Have you not been among us?
Your features seem familiar to me!
The dervish says to Khan:
— Khan, how can I be Alpamys?
He is seven times younger than me,
Zhideli-Baisyn I have visited once
I used to drink koumiss in old days,
I used to be a guest of Kazakhs.
In those distant times
Baichubar was three years old,
And as a six-month age, it was small,
Because it was very ill.
It had wool on it like felt.
I brewed the herbal concoction,
whispered a little, and spat,
The horse got well soon,
As an illness if was taken off by hand.
Then it became smooth and frisky,
And now it’s so skinny
Standing in front of me,
About its life complaining bitterly.
And the Kalmyk Khan says:
— It’s unyielding as granite,
Ninety men with its hooves
It has slaughtered
And bite through its teeth.
He’s as fierce as Alpamys.
Give a service for me,
Tame the horse for me!
— All right, said the dervish,
I can tame the horse,
But I need your generosity.
Provide me more than one rope
Namely, provide me forty ropes.
Give me sheep’s fatty tail…
You’ll give me forty such fatty tails,
You will open a forged chest,
The biggest of all chests,
And I’ll accept from the khan’s hands
Of Alpamys’ spear and sword,
And a chainmail from his mighty shoulders.
And I will warn you,
That for seven nights and seven days
No one should disturb us.
On the eighth, I will tame the horse,
It will be more docile than a lamb.
Khan Taishyk gave Karakoz — the imaginary dervish all that he requested. When the khan left, Karakoz loaded weapons and sheep’s fatty tails on the horse and took it by the reins.
And then the dervish commanded.
(In truth, the khan’s daughter)
To the townspeople declared:
«Go away from the streets,
Leave all corners,
Otherwise, you’ll be killed
by this horse – by Alpamys’s horse
it’s not just a horse, it’s a fire-horse,
so, you may be crushed to death».
And to avoid the evil.
Everyone disappeared, like sand took all water,
All hid themselves wherever they could.
And left no one behind,
So, the city became like a graveyard kind.
And Karakoz took the reins in her hands,
She got on the horse,
And the horse took her to zindan.
The horse brought her to zindan.
The ropes are tied to each other,
To the saddle tied one end,
And the other into zindan is slipped down,
And, passing through the darkness,
To the captive batyr it slides,
And to the very bottom falls.
«Isn’t it a trap or a trick?» —
Alpamys thought that moment.
He saw he is not alone,
Forty forefathers were all around him,
And Shashty-Aziz was among them.
Forty pairs of their saint hands
Fastened the rope and hold.
And now the batyr, like a tub, floats upward.
The harness is tightened,
At the well’s mouth Baichubar was dashing
And it digs the dry sand,
Strains with all its might.
The khan’s daughter looked down the dungeon,
To meet the prisoner she gave her hand,
— Honor and respect to you, dzhigit!
Alpamys came out into the light.
So, the batyr left zindan.
He swayed, standing on the ground,
Drunken with freedom and fresh wind,
By the light of the sun he is blinded.
He said thanks to Karakoz,
Accepts from her hands
His steel sword as a shield.
And his armour and his spear,
He girds himself with his sword,
And his sword and his spear.
Eats the sheep fatty tails,
The tender fatty he enjoys,
And this fragrant roast!
In front of batyr the horse plays,
It bends its neck in a ring,
It pokes the batyr in his palm,
It trembles and burns like fire,
And lits as a candle over the earth,
Calling for Alpamys to march.
And in anticipation of the storms of battle
Alpamys looked around him.
The river flows as wise discuss.
The white-faced Karakoz
The batyr kissed gently.
And smiled at her brightly,
To the saddle he sharply jumped,
Galloped away to far gray-haired.
The feather-grass is blowing in the wind,
The dust all over the road…
At last, Taishyk Khan realized
That he was faked out,
Like a mad bull he roared,
He tore his collar on him
And from his throne he jumped,
To beat the drums he commanded,
And trumpeted louder and louder,
And he gathered from all sides
An army with hundred thousand blades.
He sat on his throne in the mid of the square,
His look of menacing and face is severe,
Fear hangs upon Taishyk…
And he said follows:
— Oh, my men of muscle, my strong men,
The doom hangs over the nation.
Draw out your swords:
Alpamys is coming!
But I won’t be afraid of him,
As I am protected by the gods.
My men of muscle, my strong men,
My giants, my hangmen,
I will charge the strongest one
To meet him in a duel.
If one can strike hardly.
Baichubar horse, will be yours.
With a mighty hand it’ll be calmed down,
Let it cluck like a hen!
Tell me, who among of you,
Wants to fight against Alpamys now?
And Batyr Taimas, first comes out,
He’s mighty and broad-shouldered,
He has a club in his hand,
At his hip there is a chain
Thirty batpans sword on it hanged.
When Taimas sees a mountain
He doesn’t mind even a mountain,
And with his sword he swings
And then with his club strikes,
A thunder rumbles through the mountain,
And then crumbles to stone ashes.
He was the Khan’s right-hand man,
This elephantlike Taimas.
He could win any fight,
Like a hungry wolf to the end.
Without rest, day and night,
He could strike the enemy merciless,
He’ll catch up a fighter in the field,
He’ll sweep him off his feet, twist him into an arc.
In front of the khan, Taimas bows
And says: O my Padishah!
I am ready for the fight.
And I’ll say without hide
I’ll bleed and melt the enemy before everyone’s eyes.
And as a reward for my feat
I’ll get Baichubar!
The frequent trampling of hooves heard:
It’s Alpamys rushes to the battle.
And Taymas flies to meet the enemy,
Like a kestrel flies to a game.
His shield above his head holds,
And with a wild voice he roars
And threatens with his club:
“I am the strongest in the world!”
As the brave falcon Alpamys,
As the white falcon Alpamys,
Falling to dale down from the sky,
He rushed in short cut
To attacking the foe,
And not giving him a second chance,
He did not let him swing his club,
He cut off Taimas’ head.
A torso without a head
Continues its way across the steppe,
The head rolls in the grass,
And glisten from under the eyelids
Stared whites of eyes.
Here Kalmyks rushed in crowd
After the rolling head.
Alpamys swooped down on them
And killed five of them,
Cut down six of them
And wounded the other ten.
Taimas had one son,
And a son worthy of his father,
Muscular and tall,
He was a man of mighty strength.
And what was name of his?
The rumor about it did not reach us.
Khan Taishyk to him says:
— In a duel Taymas died,
Your parent the battle has lost.
Take revenge, my colt,
For your father’s shame,
For my brave fighter!
Sputtering like a camel,
And roaring like a rabid lion,
Like a mountain he is heavy
And broad shouldered,
Taimas’s son enraged,
He came to his horse,
He sat on the saddle and raised his shield,
He drew his mauled sword
And attacked Alpamys;
And he fell and was struck down…
He even did not understand
how he was killed.
At this time another strong man,
As tall as a big elm,
Swung his sword on shoulders,
At a gallop is approaching Alpamys,
Dragging his feet on the ground.
He shouts: — I am angry, I am stern!
A hundred batyrs I have defeated!
Weighing no less than an elephant,
I’m full of fresh strength,
And I’m ready to beat you,
To kill you, cut your life like a thread!
Five fighters, five of my friends
Ran into the field
After Taimas’ head,
You have killed them with your hand.
It must be your custom,
To beat fighters without a line.
It’s a shame for a batyr!
If you’re a batyr and not a thief,
Now it’s my turn!
Come out, Alpamys, go ahead!
And here Alpamys
Said follows:
— I’m tired of fighting.
Through streams of bloody tears
I can barely distinguish my enemies,
But I am as hard as warrior’s metal.
If I should not die,
My life will be saved.
I know that you are cunning.
There’s no protection against deceit.
For seven years I’ve been in prison,
But now I’m out of the black hole
I’m avenging my captivity
And I will not rest until
My hand can’t handle my sword,
And when my hand will drop it
I’ll continue a fair fight
I will kill seven thousands of you!
Like rams are horns-on,
The batyrs met head-on.
The enemy wants to unseat the other enemy,
They shake each other on horses,
so that
push each other off and draw their swords,
to cut off the head at once.
The horse is rounding the other horse,
And the armour crackles as bends.
The steppe has been dug all around.
Dust stands like a pillar.
The foreheads are stuck together.
The hour is followed by hour.
In the numb hands of fate,
The scales do not wave.
Horses sway back and forth,
The two horses are equally strong,
Forces of fighters are equal,
No one is dominating.
People are watching the duel,
Everyone holds their breath.
Suddenly,
Blue steel has circled.
That’s Alpamys’s blade flashed,
And the Kalmyk strongman
Fell in two pieces, from head to foot,
Like a dry pod.
The Kalmyk Khan goes into a rage.
His hand raised to the sky.
With furious rage,
He commands a sign
To move a hundred thousand troops at once
Horse riders, archers — all of them
To attack Alpamys from all sides!
And, as Khan Taishyk commanded,
The troops in formation marched.
Alpamys rushed in furious,
On their countless spears,
Like a swan into the river reeds.
And, like a storm, he crushed the front lines,
And on the hard earth
The rivers flowed in red.
He chopped, he cut with his sword,
And mounds of corpses grew,
Moving like a elephants’ herd,
Controlling by a whip.
The fog was thick,
The sky is white at the edge,
And a drum never stopped.
There’s no sun in the sky.
The enemy’s army is melting, like lead.
On the steppe flies like a whirlwind,
A young warrior.
From end to end,
They shoot at him, he rattles,
If they slash his sword, he jingles.
Apparently, from cast-iron made a dzhigit.
The day passed and the night goes on,
A new day rises in its turn.
The enemies retreat and run by,
The enemies don’t want to die.
And behind the city wall
Made of fathom thick stone.
The defeated army is hiding,
Under the gate look for protection.
All day and all night long
He rides on his horse, the city round,
Looking for a way into the gate?
Where is a hole in the wall?
Where is the breach?
Finally, at the end of the day
Alpamys stopped his horse,
Under the wall, he spotted a passage,
That goes deep into the darkness.
The horse is walking sideway,
and squinting his hot eye.
Batyr says to him:
— What’s the matter with you, my horse?
Why don’t you want to go into the passage?
Isn’t your timidity strange?
Aren’t you frightened
This tightness and darkness?
And he whipped his horse,
And the horse as a snake,
Slid to the length of the harness,
And like an awl it stopped in the darkness
And they hanged in a net of chains.
And once again he was trapped,
The hapless Alpamys.
To be caught here he didn’t expect
What a prudent enemy!
A cunning foe took him by surprise
The batyr heavily sighed:
«Is it now really the end?»
He stuck immovable in the saddle as a stake,
An oak stake driven into the hillock.
And enemies are shooting at close range,
And they flail like peas,
The enemies are beating the batyr
Straight from the shoulders,
Mocking and laughing.
Batyr appealed to his ancestors’ spirits,
And, calling out, he said follows:
— Support me in trouble!
Show me your mercy
To my setting star!
I have won at a fair fight
And in a treacherous snare I can die.
Carry me out in your arms!
On your holy graves
I cannot light lamps.
At the holy burial grounds
I cannot lie down, weeping
But I pray, I wish you help me,
Repel this fearsome blow!
Help me in this terrible hour!
And Alpamys said to the horse:
— You were right, my horse Baichubar,
You didn’t want to go into this hole!
I disobeyed you,
I betrayed myself to the enemies,
Ruining both myself and you.
How can I help both of us?
That’s how Alpamys blamed himself
For his reckless deeds.
That’s the chub horse from him hears,
Alpamys’s horse, the horse of fire,
Rushes with all his strength
The horse beats in tinkling chains,
Tearing as hard as he can.
And link after link cracks.
The iron net is torn as slacks.
And soars like on wings,
Released Baichubar.
Hardly keep sitting him in the saddle
The dashing batyr Alpamys,
with an arrow came out into the city,
The enemies started running away
Shouting: “Save yourselves! We are in trouble!”
Here a stream of human was swirling
The warriors crowd together,
They knock each other down,
They trample each other in town
Into the bloody mud.
And they tear the lock off the gates
Here are fleeing frightened foes,
They leave the city and run
Through the mountains, the steppe,
Straight ahead
To the banks of Kok-Ozen…
And then
Alpamys and Taishyk met face to face,
They brought spears to the trail,
They throw horses to each other.
Spears collide, jangling both
Completely fly out of their hands
they are soaring into the sky,
And to the ground fall from the heavens.
And there is a clatter of swords,
They cut and slash without mercy
Their armor precious,
And with a hissing noise
Splashes the fire rain.
The fighters showed in that time,
In this death-threatening time,
How beautiful is the true battle!
All earlier battles were child’s play.
At last, they were tired that day,
They stopped fighting, rest is wanted,
The two strong men were so exhausted.
So that they couldn’t lift their arms
And couldn’t get off the saddle.
Edges of both swords became bated.
Their pints touched the ground.
Alpamys and the Kalmyk Khan
Stood like that for an hour down.
The fight takes its start again,
Again, is heard the steels’ sound.
Alpamys tensed up and now,
Turning back is Taishyk Khan,
He ran like a released bullet to his town
But at the very gates
Alpamys, like a falcon, waits,
And shed khan’s blood like river.
Immediately the people summoned
They say to own the khan’s treasury!
They say to smash the Khan’s throne!
To the beks the kidneys he pierced!
All beys of country he enslaved,
Their wives became widows bereaved.
Thus, the dream that khan saw
He made it true and realized.
And the next day
he met the witch Mystan:
— How are you? – he asked her with a sneer.
She bent her neck and said fawning
«Hello, hello, our new Khan!
On the last leg I’m struggling…
The old woman was killed by a batyr.
And they say, by his will,
As a new Padishah — Keikuat shepherd
Was appointed
And this way Alpamys thanked him
For his good deeds.
And peace reigned in the country
After the storms of war when was cloudy
The Padishah Keikuat brought happiness
To the ruined country.
Trumpets and horns
are blowing and blowing,
The drummers beat their tambourines.
On this day of multi celebrations
To the domain of Karakoz,
Proud as a slender deer,
Alpamys rode up on his horse
And said: «Come out to me!
And like a full moon
Karakoz comes out,
And around her,
Forty pretty friends,
Like forty golden stars,
Like forty young roses.
Karakoz is thin and slender,
Like a string stretched.
Skin is white as flour and delicate,
Teeth like drops of milk,
The braid is curled like a snake,
The eyebrows are round like bows,
And a blush like a scarlet rose.
Was such a beauty really,
Born by human being!
As the rose, the sun, the moon!
And what can a dzhigit dream of,
If he meets such dazzling beauty?
Only to harness together in matrimony!
And among Karakoz’s friends
Jurmetuz was the prettiest all others.
She was frolicking among,
She was as fickle and gentle
Like the best dragonfly.
She had a smile on her lips,
And one of her teeth
Was a real diamond,
And her braid was wrapped
With a ribbon of scarlet and gold.
By the appearance of the girl
Many dzhigits were captured.
But no one is nice to Jurmetuz
And all of her suitors,
And the matchmakers the girl send away.
And when night comes down,
Jurmetuz back home,
She takes off her dress,
And before her nakedness
Make way event the darkness
Her girlish nakedness
Shines brighter than the lights of the night…
Where is her worthy bridegroom?
Keukuat was loved in her,
But she did not agree
To conclude a marriage with him:
I am not in love with you, Shah,
Give your dream up,
And don’t come to me again!
I swear that even in my dreams
You will not be my husband!
You are ill-mannered and rude.
So, with that left her Keukuat.
And he said as he sat on the throne:
— I could have been Padishah,
But what is the use of this?
If I can’t love Jurmetuz?
And when batyr Alpamys
Was waiting in the yurt for Karakoz,
Suddenly appeared in yurt Jurmetuz,
She approached and unexpectedly
Hung around his neck,
And arms wrapped around him,
And her soft lips glowed like a poppy…
— Go away! — said Alpamys then.
Another star is shining for me.
Let your lord Keikuat
Take you as his wife.
Jurmetus says in reply:
— Is there no heat in your blood?
Let pierce and burn then
My eyes with admiring gaze.
It is hot, it will melt the ice,
Even neutralizes the deadly poison.
But the batyr tells her again:
For ever and ever
Another star shines for me.
Jurmetuz says:
— Well then, batyr,
You are handsome and smart,
But really is not my destiny,
You should pursue your star.
I will follow Keikuat.
Though I do not like him,
But, perhaps, in time,
I would love him.
And the shah Keikuat married,
And legend says
That his life was on the mend.
Keikuat was loved by the people,
So Jurmethus loved him.
So, take it from me:
If you have a good luck, you’d luck at all!
Alpamys — a young batyr awesome,
Gulbarchin’s look has forgotten.
Before him as the evening star
The beauty Karakoz has risen,
And his passion burned him,
And the batyr decided
To marry Karakoz.
And he summoned guests to a feast.
For thirty days and thirty nights
The wedding feast went on,
And on the thirty-first night,
On the palace the batyr laid down,
And a heavy sleep overtook him.
He sleeps, groans and sees:
Darkening the sky with its wings
A black vulture descends and sits
With heavy weight on his feet
And opens its bloody beak.
And gleaming in the darkness,
Stares at batyr with the evil eyes.
Three times he drove the vulture away,
The vulture returns again:
He wants to crash it,
But it jumped out from the blanket.
Snapped the vulture’s neck,
He took out its lungs and liver,
He salted it,
And into the cauldron threw it
and put it to boil.
Here got that
That there was a disaster in his home village,
By the enemy it got crumpled.
By the horse trampled
And burnt out.
And it’s empty now!
The batyr awoke from his sleep,
And he longed for the past,
For his family and his native land.
And he said:
— Wake up, Karakoz,
A had a dream
Seems bad tidings for all of us
I’m going for the trip now.
And she said in tears:
— I dreamed a bad dream, too,
Listen, what I saw in my dream:
A white gyrfalcon sat on my breast,
And rested,
its wings flapped,
Went up into the clouds
And disappeared.
Took the fun with him.
Karakoz dear hugging Alpamys.
And the sweet Karakoz, says in tears:
Our loving hearts
Will be separated by evil again.
There is no end to my sorrow,
The bitter sorrow has not gone away.
So sick by sorrow
And pale as a bedspread,
She lies motionless.
He says:
— Saddle the horse,
Equip me for the journey!
There’s no time to delay!
And the poor girl cries her eyes out,
She obeys his command,
And meekly up from palace,
And, staggering, puts in
Into a saddlebag,
All the things he needs,
Additionally she puts,
The garment of the dervish.
She saddles Baichubar in a hurry,
Rubbing its withers gently,
She says to horse in a low voice:
— I am parting with my darling.
Bring him to me back alive!
My life within him alone!
And she bowed to the horse.
Baichubar roared loudly
The reins gnawed gladly
And with sword and spear
And Alpamys here came out the home.
Karakoz with a trembling hand
Horse’s stirrup she held up
And said: «Oh dear my boy, my choice!
I will not lift my hands,
I won’t event make a step.
How will I live when I’m apart?
I love you, my darling,
My life like a thread
You’re tearing up
My palace you’re leaving
For a long journey you’re going
Tears drip from my eyes
Pain at my heart.
I haven’t seen joy since I was a child
I haven’t seen in my family who ever smiled
I remember the sun’s burning light,
I remember the dust of the steppe day and night.
For you I was wandered,
For you I was languished,
I have suffered in my heart,
I’ve lost my father, it is so hard.
You swooped in like a disaster,
And you’re leaving now forever
Without a trace you want be disappeared
You leave without fruit
My green spring garden.
I dreamt of our child
And it would be easier more,
Wait for a new meeting,
She says so in sad.
If batyr, with Karakoz your heir,
Would grow up here.
You said: «Saddle the horse!»
I saddled the horse.
Are you leaving me?
Well, you can leave now!
It’s fate’s will, I suppose,
That you should go home!
Why do you leave me alone?
Why don’t you take me with you?
Who am I? Seems, only your shadow
A sacrifice in your way!
You’re going to a distant land…
My darling, fare you well! And forgive me!
And in reply to her Karakoz
Batyr Alpamys said:
— You torment my heart!
If you and I together
Leave this country forever,
There will be no good in here.
I’ll see and save my share,
I’ll come back to you again.
If my horse does well,
I will not make you wait long.
You should know, you are my golden stake,
I’ve been tethered long ago,
And around you by fate
I’m destined to spin and just wait.
It’s been seven long years
I have not seen my father.
As hawks hundreds of misfortunes
Are swirling around his head.
If you guard the flock,
A thief will enter your yurt,
If you guard the yurt,
Your flock will be lost.
Bringing peace to a foreign land,
I have forgotten my kinship,
And a batyr is born
For sake of his people.
For the sake of my homeland
I’m leaving you,
But will pass a few days only,
I’ll back to you, in love.
A woman prettier than you
I have never seen.
In the storms of war
We won’t cut the strings of us!
That’s what Batyr said,
bending down
To Karakoz, white-faced.
He was sitting on his horse
In bright silks dressed,
With a battle sword at his hip.
He said: «It’s time to go!”
And she: “Wait a bit, my light!”
And she stands up on tiptoe.
He kisses her eyes:
The surma on her eyelashes running,
Her tears take it down.
Karakoz’s cheeks are pale.
Three times Alpamys has left,
Three times he came back.
Like a magnet brought him back
Karakoz’s suppressed moan,
And her gaze longing.
The Alpamys left her,
Rode away…
And a sharp dagger suddenly,
In her hand trembled.
In longing she seeks a death,
She wants to destroy her life…
Could she kill herself?
What should I say in response to that?
Maybe yes or maybe not!
The horse is galloping,
The fire horse of Alpamys,
The horse is tearing with its chest
The thick air as raw silk.
The horse finds the way at once,
As if it is swallowing the spaces.
The horse doesn’t seem to care
Are there lowlands or the hills,
The hot sweat from its mane,
Like a river in spring flows,
But it is not given to a horse to get tired.
On the fiery horse’s flanks
The dust can’t stick,
The horse has such a stature!
Up the mountains, up the steep hills
The horse carries to home Alpamys,
Baichubar is the dashing steed.
Batyr has released the reins,
He rides through the lakes
Where they drive with caution always.
The horse rides over the lakes,
Where it can’t gallop, it takes by flies,
Under the horseshoe the water glistens,
The horse is like a raven beating its wing,
Without touching the sleepy stream,
The horse jumps over with a jerk
Over the silvery surface,
And slides on the ground again.
Alpamys says to the horse:
— My salvation are your wings,
But what if you stumble?
And if you slip into gorge?
Won’t you be crushed?
Wouldn’t it be the death of us,
The sharp-edged granite stony path?
Baichubar was greatly offended,
Hearing such words.
With heat it inflames offends,
Already hot blood.
And the grass whistles under the horse.
Every hour its speed is faster.
And Alpamys, closed his eyes.
Clings tenaciously to his bow,
So that from saddle not to roll down
Or fall off at full gallop…
Baichubar strives forward.
Yesterday’s run is a slow step
In comparison with today’s speed.
In horse’s eyes there is a play,
Of mischievous gold fire.
With both ears flattened, flies
The horse is faster than an arrow,
And dzhigit in the saddle seems dead,
He has lost his will.
Under hooves of the horse
There is a mirror of water,
A mountain or an abyss flash,
The horse rides on and on.
Thirty days and thirty nights
Alpamys doesn’t eat or drink,
And on the thirty-first, in the distance
Alpamys-batyr could see
The borders of his native land.
He couldn’t understand at first.
There is now a war or peace?
Zhideli-Baysin was in green.
The herds could not be counted
In the midst of curly grass valleys.
And, smelling its own kin,
The mottled horse neighed loudly,
And they neighed in response to the horse
Baichubarov’s mother and son.
And Baichubar shone and gleamed.
Baichubar bit the stallions
And sniffed the yearlings.
It was the tallest and the smoothest one,
It was a giant in the herd.
Hearing his homeland’s imperious call,
The batyr regretted the years,
Spent in a foreign land,
He remembered his mother and his sister,
And blessed his margin,
And the batyr’s soul was enlightened.
He thought for a moment
That now he has reached his goal.
Slowly the batyr rides,
He raises his weary gaze.
There is full of herds space,
And in the distance mounted a tent,
There is a fire by the tent,
Five men were napping.
If you judge them by clothes.
You’d think each one is a bek.
And the sixth,
In plain clothes
Rinses the kettle,
He’s about a tea to boil.
Alpamys recognises them:
They are relatives of ours
Tortay and Beki, the former shepherds!…
From his bag Batyr takes out
The dervish’s garment,
And he changes his appearance,
And approaches the tent,
He is astonished,
Wants to puzzle out,
The treacherous game of fate.
His soul is grieving…
— Whose herd is this, he says.
I am a wandering dervish,
I am unfortunate son of these places.
Places of the light Zhideli-Baysin
For me the native land.
For seven sad long years
I have not been in my native land,
I left my family here.
Are my loved ones alive or not?
How are people living now?
In poverty or in rich?
Who reigns in here?
Tell me, brother!
And Tortay speaks in reply:
— Be blessed you on your way.
But don’t talk too much,
Be careful with words.
The Konyrat tribe is in trouble.
Baibori was the leader of the tribe,
His people were rich with him,
He was a fair old man,
No matter what to say.
He had one son adored,
But Taishyk Khan
At Zhideli Baisyn appeared
With a countless army.
Taishyk Khan has stolen countless cattle,
So, Baibori sends to chase after him
His is only and young son:
And said: «If you don’t bring back the horses,
And if you don’t repay him with your hand
Don’t come back!»
Seven years since then have passed,
No news from dzhigit.
And meanwhile
The freak Ultan,
Rules over everything,
Now he’s Khan.
And not for toffee
But, the blood flows,
As he is a hangman:
He executes the people,
The country he’s ruined,
And its long ago
The treasury he’s wasted
As a tax, he takes cattle.
Exhausted, the common people,
Everyone starves and curses
That greedy fox.
The poor country is dying!
And you are dervish asking,
Whose herd am I herding?
These horses belong to Alpamys
I’ve been herding for seven long years,
Waiting for get back on track,
But seems, gone those days!
You asked me about everything.
Perhaps you’ll have any message?
Hey dervish, do you know anything
About Alpamys – the defender of us?
All five beks awake at once.
They say in consonant chorus:
— Hey, Tortay, you should ask us about it!
Alpamys by Taishyk has been killed.
You’d better shut your mouth,
And talk less,
And serve us tea quickly!
The beks got angry at once
All of them in five
started kicking and pushing Tortay.
Alpamys tried to set apart them.
— Come down, beks, he said,
— Shame on you, he said,
— A true dzhigit never will
Call for other four,
To take one by surprise.
Now, you must come down
while the going is good,
Or else I’ll grind you into dust,
I’ll show you all five,
How to go at a single man!
They’re still all in a huddle
Continue beating Tortay.
Alpamys says to himself here:
— By slaying these vicious rats,
Would I do good or bad?
And he swung over their heads
With pikestaff of his…
The heads are in halves!
Tortay recognized the lion by claws,
And wept with happiness came closer.
And the batyr jumped off his horse,
Remembering his kinship in his heart,
And he embraced
And hugged his tribesman.
And said Batyr Alpamys:
— I have returned to my native land,
Let Ultan tremble now!
I’m filled with righteous anger!
Give me more details, Tortay,
What has he done here without me?
What is the life of all our kin?
Do not hide it, Tortay, talk now!
And Tortay tells him:
— Khan Ultan told to Baibori,
to become his shepherd.
And now your old father,
With his staff in the steppe wanders
Herding the khan’s camels.
And Kultai is herding sheep.
And your wife Gulbarchin,
In the same year when you left
Gave a birth to your son.
His name is Zhadyger.
Black deeds are happening!
Nowadays your young son is saddening
And doomed to beggarly labor:
He walks barefoot, without a hat,
And swallows the ashes of the road,
He washes himself with dew
And in his salty tears.
The chain on his neck, the chain on his feet…
So many months in a raw,
Your heir in tending lambs.
And the wicked Ultan conceived
To get approval of your wife,
And make her his wife,
Our virtuous Gulbarchin.
For thirty days and nights
Ultan having fun with his friends,
And today the time has come:
The mullah to approve their sinful marriage.
Go there at once
And thwart the criminal!
And Alpamys says: — Dear Tortay,
Keep quiet about my arrival!
He got on his horse and rode home. On the way he met his father Baibori leading the camels to a watering place, shouting:
— Arai! Arai!
He was crying and wailing:
The slender poplar, a white fluff
I’m grey-haired,
a lonely, shepherd
I beg you, The Creator,
I’m weeping, I’m sick old man.
Than to endure such a life,
I’d rather lie down and die.
Where is my only son,
My defender and shield of my gray hair?
In a day I cry hundred times
Chasing the camels:
Arai! Arai!
I’m dying without guilt,
Hey, hunchbacks, where are you!
Woe is me, bad luck!
Damn you, may you perish forever!
Where’s the water, where are you flowing?
Without a master – everything in trouble!
Arai! Arai!
Snow is on the Karagan Mountain,
And the juniper in silver.
I’ll be guarding other’s cattle forever!
My clothes fell off my shoulders…
The sun is drying, the snow is blinding…
The shepherd has many insults.
Seems, my son will not come
Without host the cattle will perish.
Arai! Arai!
A cherry tree on a steep mountain
Was scorched by the mid-day heat.
I have in my hands no strength,
Like a blind man I live in darkness
For many years my son is gone
I have not heard from him…
Arai! Arai!
A pomegranate has dried up
Under the mountain.
Tending lambs my grandson,
On his feet and neck, a chain around
We’ll disappear without a trace…
Hey, camels, where are you going?
Arai! Arai!
Alpamys approached his father and greeted him by wishing him well-being. Baibori thought he was Ultan’s earwig and was so frightened that he dropped his shepherd’s staff from his hands.
Alpamys said:
— O venerable, old shepherd,
Be blessed forever and ever!
To which distant land
And why did your son leave?
Abandoning the land Zhideli-Baisyn?
And Baibori cried:
Will the great Allah grant my request?
I pray every day in tears, haven’t rest,
My patience has wavered at all,
All-merciful one, wipe my tears away!
Since Ultan’s is reigning
In our most bitter of countries
In wretchedness we live.
And people in my humiliation
Haven’t greet, nor welcomed me.
Who is honours me today,
After all these years greets me?
The old man does not recognize his son.
Alpamys speaks:
— Oh, father!
All your troubles are over!
You are not alone in the world, no longer
I’m Alpamys, I’m your son! I’m here!
The time to peace has come!
Don’t graze for the enemy
Cattle in the steppe,
For the enemy’s hearth
From now on, don’t drown!
Still can’t believe Baibori:
Thinks that, the dervish tricks him!
Take pity on the old man, wanderer!
Still, your face is familiar to me.
Your voice excites my hearing.
And the forgotten smell of diapers,
As used in childhood, it tickles the nose
Thy horse is good and fine,
But my son has a bad horse…
You’re wasting your time,
Dear dervish,
You shouldn’t lie,
You’re a fool to disturb my peace.
Who are you? Who are you, dear?
Just tell me the truth!
Baibori crying, asks.
Alpamys replies back:
— Let the river reverse,
Let the enemy to win,
May I have no joy!
If I lie even a word!
The poor wanderer has returned,
Your lamb is before you,
Your son honors you!
Baibori recognizes his son,
He falls to the ground,
Like a colt is roaring,
With his new-found son together
Shed bitter tears in torrents.
When Baibori has calmed down a little, Alpamys asks:
— What of our relatives, dear father?
— Do not ask about them. We have all been harassed by Ultan. Not far from here old Kultai is herding sheep. He misses you as much as I do. Go to see and make him happy!
On reaching the sheep flock, Alpamys recognizes Kultai. The poor man was asleep in the shade of his shirt, hanging on a stick.
Two goats grazed among the sheep in the flock. When they were still little goats little Alpamys liked to play with them.
Goats have smelled Alpamys and ran beside a horse, sniffing stirrups.
Kultai woke up, grabbed a stick and rushed after goats with a cry: «Shurai! Shurai!» At this he wailed thus:
— A five-year-old horse is good.
But you can’t lose your mind.
You are white goats,
You are Alpamys’s goats,
Why did two of you run together
To sniff another man’s horse?
Shurai! Shurai!
From the Karagan mountain
Rushing and ringing,
Reviving the wide desolated land
Why does the deaf Kultai,
hearing this noise?
What have you goats in your minds?
What do they need from stranger?
If they don’t know him.
Shurai! Shurai!
Alpamys was a child,
He loved his goats wild,
He played with them more than once.
Alpamys wore satin,
But his poor son has nothing.
In the heat and in the frost
He walks barefoot and naked,
And grazes other people’s lambs…
Hey, goats, get back, get back!
Shurai! Shurai!
Alpamys put the horse down,
And said: «Oh, Honourable one,
Be in well, live long and prosper shine like the sun!
Would you give me old man,
One of these goats,
Then I’d be very happy!
And at these words Kultai
He burst into tears.
— What’s the matter with you?
Oh, grandfather! Don’t cry!
«Give me a goat!» — I just said,
You reply with cry to me.
You would do God’s work,
If you gave to the dervish a goat!
Says Kultai:
— Dear dervish!
Hear me, hear my words.
I will die without these goats.
You should know this:
My soul is sick so
Because seven years ago
Alpamys left us, everybody knows.
The light turned off from my eyes,
My life has turned into hell
I would be happy to leave this world,
If I didn’t believe it,
That from long journey to home
To his devastated kin ones
My beloved will come back.
He would come and say: «Key, Kultai,
Give me my goats, back!»
I can’t look him in the face,
If I give them to you?
Alpamys says back:
— Hey, Kultai, my dear grandfather!
In your eyes there was fire,
On your shoulders was a fur coat,
And now you became decrepit, withered…
Why, in your old age,
you wander after the flock,
And spend your days in the steppe?
Your lips are cracked,
Your teeth are chipped,
Your sharp hearing has become dull…
Don’t you have a kin?
Don’t you have a assistant servant?
You’ve aged a lot, Kultai,
You must be in trouble,
Tightly bound by grief and need!
And Kultai here says:
— Oh, my dear.
You must have a clear mind,
Not like everyone,
You can see right through a man.
I have known sorrow,
Since Ultan became a Khan.
That khan Ultan, a greedy dog,
Took the happiness and sorrow brought.
Alpamys said then:
— Your beard is white like snow.
A homeless man has no happiness,
A hearty lunch is not for beggars.
The one, whom you call a lamb,
And you wait for with such a love.
Didn’t he have any signs?
And Kultai:
— Light of my eyes,
My dear pupil,
He was stronger than other stronger men,
He could lift a camel with his hand.
He had on his back
A mole, black and round.
That’s what he told the dervish.
And hearing these words the dervish
Took off his clothes from his shoulders
And said: Look, here it is!
Kultai looks astonished:
On the back of passer-by.
And saw a mole, black and round.
Here as a river in high water,
From the old man’s eyes
Shed hot and burning like salt tears.
And the young man, with joy he hugs.
A man can bear everything,
Happiness or immense pain,
Again, and again,
On his way of life.
When Alpamys and Kultai were pleased with the meeting, Kultai said:
— Go, my dear, to see your son Jadiger. He is barefoot, without a hat, with a chain around his neck and on his feet, herding lambs in the steppe. Hurry up and make him happy!
Alpamys replied:
— I cannot recognize Jadiger. I have never seen him. Better get on my horse, ride to the boy and tell him that «Your father has arrived!»
Kultai jumped up and rode off into the steppe, saying:
— Hey, ride me quickly, Baichubar,
Over there,
Where Jadiger is grazing lambs!
Like a heat its gilded reins,
Glow with the sunshine.
Oh, you are lucky old Kultai!
Why shouldn’t the horse gallop?
Why shouldn’t the horse dance?
Glory and honour to this day that come!
Joy is overflowing him!
Why shouldn’t I fly?
As I flew when I was fifteen?
Now I become young, I’m not grey-haired!
I’m not a grandfather, I’m a dzhigit again!
For a long we’ve been burning in the fire
Of endless grudges and troubles.
Now Ultan will be killed by Alpamys.
Damn him, the executioner Ultan!
Let the Konyrat tribe to have fun:
«A tulip blooms in the steppe!
Ride ahead, Baichubar, so quick!»
Let him burst in his yurt!
Bloodthirsty fiend Ultan!
Wailing thus, Kultai galloped across the steppe. He saw some dzhigits playing kokpar. They were Ultan’s guests invited to the wedding party. Instead of a usual goat they took a three-year old camel and try to lift from the ground on gallop. None of the dzhigits managed to do it.
Kultai sitting in the saddle flew up to the camel, picked it up and in front of the astonished dzhigits, galloped away with it.
The dzhigits asked Ultan for another kokpar.
Ultan said:
— Now I will arrange you a fun that no one has ever had before. Bring here a seven-year-old shepherd boy Jadiger, he will be a kokpar!
Those who remember Alpamys were indignant and refused to play such a game.
But there were some wicked people who went after Jadiger, threw him into a circle and started grabbing him all sides from each other.
— “Dear uncle! Oh, my dear uncle!
Please help me. Protect me!”
Cried out in tears
Alpamys’ unfortunate son was begging,
But no one was defending
Such a victim
Of the savage wickedness of human.
Jadiger was knocked down then
And shouted players enjoying the game:
— Don’t look at our face, puppy!
— Uncle, I will not look!
Just let me go! — he cried.
I will obey you all from now on!
Zhadiger shied away of the horse
Tinkling with his chains.
Heat during the summer,
Frost during the winter,
for the destitute most,
a bowl of tears.
Jadiger weeps and cries:
— You chase me on horseback,
You tear me from each other’s hand,
You keep me in chains like a beast,
You give me up to thousand torments,
In what way have I offended?
Am I not your little brother?
Oh, dzhigits of Konyrat tribe!
Alpamys-batyr is my father,
He was rich in glory,
Seven years ago he left us,
Since then, I’m sire
and pathetic without my father,
I’m plummeting from a sling.
O dzhigits, I want to live,
But in your cruel hands I can die!
That’s what Jadiger cried out to everyone,
Who grabbed him by the chains,
But the tormentors, meanwhile.
Continued their game.
And, clinging to the stirrups,
Jadiger with the last of his strength
With a hoarse voice says:
— O dzhigits, I am still young,
Call my mother, young man,
Let her protect me this time
And let her not drag me like a kokpar.
Their own, they are not protecting,
Their own, dogs are chasing.
Their eyes burn like wolves…
Blood spurts from my wounds,
The hours of death are upon me.
Why, since my infancy
Ultan is hurting me?
He has no mercy for me.
So cried Jadiger
And he cursed those evil dogs:
— Oh, so that all of you may live a goat’s age
So that everyone of you to be a kokpar!
Keep on tormenting me at all!
May the butcher’s knife will cut you down!
May you could break your legs!
Keep on tormenting me at all!
May you all turn into cripples,
And friends of yours conspired to betray!
Keep on tormenting me at all!
So that no man
Would not want to call his brother!
Keep on tormenting me at all!
If my end comes here,
And later will come my father,
When he’ll ask you:
«Where is my firstborn?»
What will be your answer?
May you never back your home,
May never see the light of day,
May never see your mother and father!
Keep on tormenting me at all!
Then the people who had not yet forgotten Alpamys had dispersed the dzhigits, who had so mercilessly mocked Jadiger.
The boy tried to rise from the ground but his injured legs could not hold him. Kultai rode up to him on Baichubar. He did not recognize the boy covered in dust and blood and asked him:
— Hey kid!
Oh, my sufferer,
Do you not know where is Jadiger?
Oh, my ill-fated sobber,
Oh, djigit as tall as my finger,
Do you don’t know where is Jadiger?
My Jadiger, is my wanderer,
If you know, then please say!
The boy looks at man — it’s Kultai!
He looks and replies him back:
— Why don’t you recognize me, grandfather?
Or you’ve lost your mind?
Or you have a thorn in your flesh?
Or you’ve become important that,
Because you bought a horse yourself?
And you don’t admit anybody more,
become as proud as an eagle?
Seems, you have come to participate
At Ultan’s feast and triumph?
That’s why you’re so proud,
You’re smiling with all your mouth.
Though I see no reason for it!
Are you glad that Ultan is marrying
My mother Gulbarchin?
Even though an hour ago
Kultai was still a good man,
And in the game kokpar he won,
Even he was old in ages,
Sometimes, weak in mind.
They say,
That he is ninety years old
And besides, there are a lot of troubles
He’s seen it in his life,
The clarity of mind he has lost.
And they say as the world
Was for him like in the smoke,
And that’s probably why
It’s too much for his mind,
Keep something and so on.
A bad messenger was Kultai,
He forgot to tell Jadiger
That his father had returned.
He threw to Jadiger the kokpar
And shouted: «Go, Baichubar! —
Grandfather Kultai spurred his horse
And sank in the steppe dust.
Jadiger took the camel,
Dragged him to the aul
«I’ll give it to Karlygash,
To put into the cauldron
And cook it with spices for us,
So that everyone would eat it and praise,
My grandfather Kultai
As he is brave and bold man!»
Ultan saw the boy:
— I can’t understand, he said,
When did he become a dzhigit?
He was a puppy, now he is wolf!
And where does this enemy tribe
Get their strength from?
And if I don’t kill him now,
He’ll kill me, damned…
Khan Ultan shouts:
— “Karlygash!
Do you see him over there?
He is your wolf cub.
Bring him here” he says.
“I do not like his appearance.
I haven’t tolerated him for a long time.
I will kill him with knife”.
Fear gripped Karlygash’s soul,
Her heart is filled with sadness
The girl is sorry for her nephew,
And she says in tears:
— Khan, you are controlling our destiny,
We obey you in anyway,
But this is my nephew,
My softling and my little orphan.
How can I with my own hands
Give Jadiger for real death?
So much grief you’ve brought us,
So many unbearable insults!
Are you not fed with our blood?
Or you are not drunken with our tears?
Or are you going mercilessly avenge
For your imposture Khan?
Baibori was famous and great
Because he was given by fate
A good temper and keen mind,
But, having taken his reigning.
You are unreasonably cruel, Ultan!
Ultan, you are the cause
All of our misfortunes and troubles,
And in the Zhideli-Baisyn land
Where we were so happy and glad
It already seven years
There is no bird of happiness
Khan Ultan! As long as I live,
I won’t give you Jadiger!
Hearing such words,
Ultan become furious,
His eyes bulged like an owl,
He screamed,
Like a steppe jackal,
His black mouth as zindan
He opened shouting, then
He drew a crooked dagger,
Swung it at Karlygash:
— So, you say, you won’t give him to me?!
Jadiger came running to the shout,
And he squeezed Ultan’s wrist out
With his childish but mighty hand,
With all strength he had,
With the other hand
Jadiger clawed him like a golden eagle.
Khan Ultan dropped the dagger,
And the dagger fell ringing.
Here Ultan suppressed his anger,
He tamed his jackal’s temper,
And took a step back, realizing
That at the height of his powers
He is not no stronger than Jadiger.
And as darker than an autumn cloud,
From the yurt he run out.
Humiliated and depressed.
And hugging her nephew in her arms,
Karlygash cries shedding tears.
Like hail roll down her tears.
— My little light, she says
With voice hoarse and in tears.
— Who gave you this kokpar?
— Granfather Kultai brought it to me,
To have someone cook it,
So that we could have a party.
Karlygash is surprised:
— Dear boy,
What’s the matter with you?
Is it time to make a party?
What kind of strange fancy is this?
We have a trouble after trouble.
That fiend dared to part
You from your mother.
And almost killed you.
It’s strange, Jadiger,
To hear these things from you!
Jadiger says: «Do not weep!
There’s no need
To turn up the heat,
It’s burning already.
I do not remember a day
That we have not been
By an executioner tormented.
He will not overpower me,
I will not kneel before him.
So, you also stand proudly,
And not bow your head to him.
For the honour of our family
Let’s hide our tears proudly.
Karlygash, we’ll have that party!
And their voices hearing,
Gulbarchin came to them running.
From all the day’s bitter tears
Her beauty has faded.
After misery and grief in her cheeks
No more roses smiling.
Gulbarchin is sickly and pale,
As if the moon were on the wane…
— What a life! She screamed.
And the three of them wept in tears,
Warmly hugging each other,
Their tears were bubbling over.
And among the green plains,
The river Baisyn, with its scales
Glistening among the grasses,
Picked up their moaning
And spread it over the land…
Weeping, says Gulbarchin:
— Fate has branded me
I cannot from my forehead
To wipe the black seal off brand
I must endure and remain silent.
And I’m shedding my tears.
But, should tears run from men’s eyes?
What happened to you, my son? —
To Judiger his mother asked.
Jadiger answered the mother:
— I went to the toi today,
I wanted to have fun at the game
To grab a kokpar was my aim,
But seems, this is my fate,
That by the will of dog-Ultan
They used me as a kokpar.
They threw me down on the ground
Tortured me for three hours around,
They tore me from each other’s hand,
At a gallop trampled me in the sand.
After a blow, another blow!
After a kick, another kick!
After a dart, another dart!
A chain slammed into my throat and feet…
The steppe was spinning like a wheel
I shrank into a bloody lump,
And I could not get up from the ground.
And as I lay in the dust,
Grandfather Kultai rode to me,
On his mottled stately horse,
Gave me a camel, whipped the horse
And sank into the steppe.
Gulbarchin says: — Let it be!
May the spirits of our ancestors support us!
In this terrible hour perhaps
The light in your eyes has gone out,
Maybe it’s a mistake, Jadiger?
Where will Kultai get a horse?
He is living so long in the world,
From his bones and veins old
The life has gone out like steam…
And to win the kokpar,
There should be a strong man.
Maybe it was your father
Returned to his native land?
Asked him mother.
— No! My father is young,
This one was grey-haired,
With a beard…
It was certainly Kultai!
But the mother, not listening to her son.
Began to recollect her dream:
— I was walking on the steppe,
I couldn’t feel my feet.
The steppe is deaf.
Burning sand.
A white gyrfalcon
Cast an eye on around
Here’s my snare
A scarlet string is there.
The white gyrfalcon
Didn’t fly away
Proud and brave
It sat on my hand.
The gyrfalcon, crying out:
«Where is the prey?»
And it looks out
at the world around.
Full of majesty,
My bird-khan
The gyrfalcon is batyr!
My dream means:
The endless circle.
Is galloping on the steppe
My Batyr is close almost.
My fire-faced one,
My pride! My handsome!
Where can I hide
From the vicious dog?
Here they heard a shout of Ultan.
— Jadiger! — he shouted from afar. — You have had enough chat with woman!
Go to your lambs!
And Jadiger jingling with his chains, went to the steppe.
On his way he has got a splinter in his foot, sat down and started to pick a splinter out. Suddenly, a dervish on horseback appeared.
Jadiger addressed him with these words:
— Good day, dear dervish!
Be happy, dervish!
I wish you all the best.
You are mighty and broad-shouldered.
Your mottled horse takes a step,
As it jumps a mile.
You worth a whole army.
If only you were a batyr,
Would run away from you enemy,
And hide into the bushes
wouldn’t dare to resist.
You’d be lightning from the clouds
And sent flight red-feathered arrows
Hold your horse on the fly,
Have pity on me, an orphan!
I’ve splintered my foot, look here some!
I’m in blood by my chains
Stop your journey for a moment,
Bring my lambs here, kind man!
On the steppe I’m burning,
I blame the steppes, chains, sorrow.
I have not lived much,
But I have lived badly…
At least you won’t hurt me.
And wish you to predict me happiness!
The dervish replies:
— My life, dear child, is dark too,
It has been given for misfortune
My son was for me like a clear light,
But it has long that my light was faded.
I have not seen my son for seven years.
They say, he is like you, a shepherd in these areas.
Jadiger has turned pale,
He became as a chalk, white
Mother’s dream he recalled,
And stretched out hands to dervish:
— Why is your horse seeming familiar to me?
I think, my grandpa Kultai
on your horse came to see me!
But he was like a sack on this horse,
And you’re like a white gyrfalcon on it!
Who are you? Tell me, dervish,
Seems, all night long you rode.
I see, a sleep is taking you,
In your dense eyelids
your gaze you are hiding.
Look at me straight!
Tell me, dervish, who are you?!
Now, I see you sighing,
Every sigh is a hurricane
Thou hast a giants’ stature,
Worthy to wear only a satin.
Who are you? Tell me, dervish!
If only I could find my father,
I’d be happy without end.
If you had found your son,
Would you really have the endless happy?
Tell me, dervish, who are you?!
The sword of the enemy is upon me,
Only you can repel it from me!
Hello, my dear father Alpamys!
It’s me, your son Jadiger!
As if a tree on the mountain,
All in tears dropping in silver,
As a cherry rolling down from cherry tree,
Jadiger fell weakened,
And like a mighty lion catching its cub,
Alpamys picked him up.
He lifted the boy onto his horse,
He kissed him on the cheeks
and fell down both,
Like a heavy and mighty oak.
And the awakened Jadiger
Talked softly to his father
Bending over his face.
With his hand beneath his crown:
— Open your eyes, open them!
I am here with you, I’m your colt!
Came to consciousness the batyr,
The bright fire burned him to the bone,
And he touched with his lips
his son’s pale cheeks.
With hands, the chains he reached
He tore them off
From son’s bloody neck and feet,
And swept away.
He sat his son on his bow,
And held long his hand,
He made the boy to feel
that he has a father
Finally, always near is his father.
And put on his forehead further
A radiant crown of happiness.
He flew to the steppe with his son
Saying: «Stay with the lambs.
I’ll be back soon!”
Alpamys galloped to the aul.
And swiftly flew up
to the yurt where was feasting Ultan;
He besieged Baichubar,
And to sing as a dervish he began:
— Listen us, The Prophet Suleiman,
The lord of lands and waters!
Listen to my song, dear people!
Listen to me, you too, Ultan!
I have a song for you.
The dervish will sing it for you.
You’re celebrating your wedding, Ultan!
You’ve robbed your people, Khan!
You’re a fierce like a wild boar!
You hold a kangaroo court,
And committed an injustice.
Don’t you have fangs?
There’s a song one,
And the dervish for you will sing i!
There’s a mud floor under you.
Isn’t he trembling now?
There is a golden throne under you,
And who does it belong to?
There’s a song about it.
The dervish for you will sing it.
You are, Ultan, guarding the treasury.
Answer: whose treasury is it?
You are marring today.
Answer: whose wife she is?
A man sits on a raft,
And thinks he’ll make it.
But the wind rises a wave,
And the man goes to the deep.
There’s a song about it.
The dervish for you will sing i.
Khan Ultan says to the slaves:
— This song can harm us.
Send the dervish away!
I’ll give him nothing for the song!
And the beautiful Gulbarchin
Was taken by the song.
— Let me look at the singer!
She thought
and at the dervish looked.
How he looks like Alpamys!…
She called Mafia, the maid,
She gave her coins in eight gold
«Give it to the dervish!
This song is after my heart.
Say him not to leave at once
Maybe he will foretell me some?
Here the dervish says the people,
He sees everything for seven years ahead.
Mafia, kind of, had a burr
She was some slightly spotted,
Also, some devious,
And a little bit thevish.
The Mafia was devious utterly.
The charmless Mafia,
The lustful Mafia
Half the money she steals
Quietly in her pocket she keeps
— I’ll go to the market, she said.
I’ll meet there a dzhigit,
I’ll drink with him, have a fun,
He is a dervish.
But I don’t give a damn!
I would have no fun, nor happiness
Without these coins.
Four coins enough for dervish.
It’s not bad to earn money so easy!
So the Duana started to do magic,
He started beating a tambourine and dancing,
Blowing and spitting over shoulders,
To call for his devils:
— Hey, Dombai! Hey, Dombai!
Hey, Dombai, come here quickly, Dombai,
Come quickly, Dombai!
Let’s, do some foretell, Dombai!
And for Mafia foretell
For the one who having a burr, tell.
Will she have a new friend
For fun and amusement?
Will the new friend
Having a burr, as she has?
Hey, Dombai, hey, Dombai,
Let’s, do some foretell, Dombai!
If he is coming to the feast,
The dashing batyr, Alpamys?
That wanderer, the poor dervish
Has visited all over the world,
And he curses here by his fate.
Eight gold coins’ sends
For a fortune-telling to dervish
The wife of Alpamys.
But the thief Mafia
Half of the fee took for herself!
Also, I heard,
She doesn’t give a damn about me.
Hey, Mafia, don’t argue,
Give me my gold,
Otherwise, my demon Dombai
Will make you sick!
Hey, Dombai, hey, Dombai,
Let the sickness off the chain, quickly!
And the female offender then
Blushed with shame.
And Mafia jarred:
— Duana, you ai aight
Because of that
I give you the gold back.
Don’t cause hui(r’) to Mafia!
I’ll apdate all your clozes,
Will pliz your heaut,
I’ll piesent you a biocade cap
Don’t uuin me!
Hee’s othei fouu gold pieces.
I’ll give zem willingly,
Just want to be healsy!
And Mafia gave the rest four gold coins to the imaginary dervish.
— Mafia sang well, said the guests. — But perhaps there are better singers among us. Let’s have a song competition.
— Good deal, Ultan said. Let all singers praise only me!
But no one wanted to praise the cruel Khan, even don’t want to say anything good about him. Then having a burr Mafia said:
— If my fiiend Badamsha agees, we can togezer with her adequately paise the gieat and wise Khan Ultan.
Badamsha said: I’m ok with that!
This girl also having a burr when she speaks.
And so, the two singers having a burr singed out a wedding song with the usual refrain as ‘a friend – a soulmate’, which in their performance sounded like this:
Ah, the fiend! Ah, the hazband!
On the lake shoie
The geeze staited a game.
Oui Ultan Khan is geat!
Khan Ultan fom heaven is a gift!
Piaise the Khan, stand hand in hand!
Ah, my fiend! Ah, hazband!
We’ai having since moining a feast!
Play foi us a tuba-sybyzga!
Let it buzz in oui eais!
Give us money, Padishah!
Make the fiends happy, Ultan!
Ah, fiend! Ah, hazsband!
Khan Ultan is a giant one!
With a chest like a millstone
And a poweiful statuie.
Let’s honoui the Ultan!
If theie any flaw of this man!?
The Khan appieciates couiteous seivants!
Ah, my fiend! Ah, hazband!
We aie flat of oui fate!
Khan is a gieat man!
Tomoyow moning on the pole
Zhadigei will be tied with iope
Life is like an spiing meadow!
Ah, my fiend! Ah, hazband!
In Zhideli-Baisyn the happiness,
Lives like in its own nest
Come out to the Khan, Gulbaychin,
Show him the honouy!
Youy lips aie like ice,
Youy statuie isn’t good
And youi eyes aie fyowning.
Let the biide stait a sing.
Ah, my fiend! Ah, husband!
Both singers were delighted with their song.
— Wheie is that deivish, dzhigits? — asked Badamsha. — Bding him heie, I shall compete with him in singing! And the dzhigits called the imaginary dervish.
And this flattering soul
Badamsha sang follows:
(Caring for the ears of all,
And won’t torment you anymore,
And we will no longer
Use burring into the verse.)
— The steep-haired white goat
Led the sheep to the watering spot.
A dzhigit in his belt carrying wasp around
Voices cheerfully sound
Praise the Khan more loudly, you dervish!
The song would be really good,
And you’ll be served a wine,
And Badamsha will give you money.
Ah, my friend! Ah, husband!
And with his truthful song
Alpamys answered her:
— I’ve been wandering for years.
Where strangers live more,
But I didn’t find any joy there…
I don’t know what’s going on here.
At home it’s hard be tolerance with falsify,
So, what’s about to sing here?
Ah, friend! Ah, husband!
And this flattering soul
Badamsha sang follows:
— You’ve come to the wedding party,
So, sing a song about the wedding!
Soon Gulbarchin would become a khan’s wife
The scarlet flower would enter to khans’s life.
If you say her about your poverty,
She’ll give you another gold
Ah, my friend! Ah, husband!
And with his truthful song
Alpamys answered her:
— Gulbarchin, what to celebrate here?
I would rather be deaf and dumb,
I wish not to attend this party,
And would not sing at this wedding at all.
Gulbarchin is caught in a trap,
As a little dove in captivity is flapping,
And Ultan is a ferocious boar that
Wants to marry another man’s wife.
Ah, my friend! Ah, husband!
And this flattering soul
Badamsha sang follows:
— Have you eaten of henbanes,
Aren’t you talking nonsense?
It is strange to hear from the dervish
What you have sung to me hitherto.
We are all voiceless castles for the khan,
Pays homage to him everyone.
For your talk the khan
With his fist will break your crown!
And with his truthful song
Alpamys answered her:
— The people surrounded us in a ring,
You are singing only for him.
With anger, in your face,
Like a dog, you are biting me.
You’d do better the people to praise.
You neglect them, it’s not nice
How many times to you,
Has Ultan donated lavishly?
And what do you get for praises?
Ah, my friend! Ah, husband!
And this flattering soul
Badamsha sang follows:
— The people surrounded us in a ring,
For also sing for them,
You’ve stirred up my soul
That’s why I bite you in the face.
I love Ultan-khan,
That’s why I praise him
I wear brocade and satin
It’s our golden time!
Ah, my friend! Ah, my husband!
And with his truthful song
Alpamys answered her:
— With this song before you
I’ll ride like the wind of the steppe,
I’ll chase the horses in herds
To the Baisyn river’s lower reaches.
During Ultan’s reign
You are wearing gold and brocade satin
But If only I wish,
All these from your shoulders will be ripped.
I’m a dervish,
And came to you with a whip.
Ah, my friend! Ah, husband!
And this flattering soul
Badamsha sang follows:
— With a wretched song before me,
You’ll fly away like a dry wind!
You can chase your herds
To the Baisyn river’s lower reaches!
You can’t tear the brocade from my shoulders!
As my khan gifted me this brocade!
He’ll kiss my heels!
If only I wish.
Ah, my friend! Ah, husband!
And with his truthful song
Alpamys answered her:
— You the burring Badamsha,
You’ve been heating well my hearth,
And Ultan walked without breath,
Shepherding my horses.
You are wicked woman, dry pole,
I’ll punish you for everything,
A shameful death is waiting you,
I’ll impale you on a stake!
Ah, my friend! Ah, husband!
Badamsha here shouted:
— I will not sing anymore!
Who is he, this dervish?
She went back in a hurry to her place,
She took away the other guests.
The dervish stayed there alone
And then he called: — Dear Gulbarchin,
I will not keep the song in my chest.
Please, come out.
We will sing together, come on!
Gulbarchin came out, and then
The dervish started a song:
— Once again, I am in my native land,
Hello, my dear Zhideli-Baisyn,
And here is my hug, here is my hand!
From distant areas to home,
Your poor son has returned.
I left you seven years ago,
And I’ve missed all seven years in a row
Missed expanses of my native plains much.
Hello to you, my Konyrat tribe!
Sing me a song! Sing, dear Gulbarchin!
Gulbarchin
Oh, Dervish, I will sing to you,
Your voice, disturbed my soul,
Waked me from my dead sleep.
I live on earth, like an orphan weep.
With the orphaned son.
Our life is empty and dark.
The fate doesn’t give
A death in our grasp.
Alpamys
As a sharp knife for me your words.
If you are waiting for Alpamys,
And if you are Jadiger’s mother,
How can you wish a death?
Perhaps Alpamys is on his way,
And would get some news from him?
Gulbarchin, take revenge on the enemy!
Isn’t revenge an honor for you?
Gulbarchin
By this song I am pierced,
Like with a spear in my heart!
Show your face, dervish,
Why do you hide your appearance?
Who is standing before me?
Pretending to be a dervish?
Dear dervish, lift up your gaze,
Shoot me with it at point-blank range!
Alpamys
Dear Gulbarchin, say me the truth,
How could it become that,
A wedding party you’re having one?
And whom they call a Khan,
Did he have bill and coo with you?
Gulbarchin
Let me buried at once,
Let me burn in hell,
If I let in at least once
This beast stay on the palace!
Alpamys
Bless you, dear wife,
For faithful to your husband until death
From your guests and relatives!
Keep our secret for a while.
That’s what Batyr Alpamys said
To his beautiful Gulbarchin,
And then they hugged,
But the stream of tender words
Soon was sounded in silence.
Alpamys is on horse again.
His wife told him
That all guests
went to the meadow places
To shoot the golden pumpkins.
Whoever draws the bow three times,
And hit the target three times,
For such accuracy he will get
A beautiful girl as a present.
Alpamys to the meadow galloped,
Baichubar hurries up,
But suddenly he heard
A long murmurous moan,
He hears a muffled cry:
— Where are you, my dear lamb?
Alpamys, my little colt!
Where the protector for myself to find,
No one to support me in my trouble!
Hearing the warm voice to him,
Alpamys held back his horse.
He saw here his mother walking,
The elderly Analyk;
Her steps are slow and heavy:
On her back is a sack,
And in her sack – dried dung-kizyak.
Alpamys has stopped his ride.
And threw himself on her breast.
She was long dimmed,
And now she sees clear.
The old woman’s hearing become dull,
And now she hears very well.
The poor woman’s spirit was broken,
And now she is straightened up.
The mother says to Alpamys:
«It’s a little easy, tears to shed,
And I feel lightness in my heart.
You are here with me,
You are the hope of the family!
My breasts become warm!
As if filled with milk again!
Alpamys says to her mother:
— My dear mother Analyk!
Go home now, just in peace.
I’m going straight to the meadow,
Three times I’ll draw my bow,
Three times I’ll hit the target with my arrow,
I’ll tear the pumpkin to pieces
And I’ll save my sister Karlygash.
Seeing Alpamys in the crowd,
Khan Ultan said mockingly:
— Hey dervish, I see you are here at the meadow, too.
Don’t you worry to get outplayed?
Look, the pumpkin is hanging there, still!
That your arrow can’t even reach that hook.
You are foolish head!
Alpamys shot at it, one!
Alpamys shot at it, two!
Alpamys shot at it, three!
He got the aim all three times!
And look, the pumpkin is on the ground,
And it’s divided into
Three precisely rounds.
And all around the people say:
— The dzhigit shoots well!
Alpamys shouts to Ultan:
— Give me my reward!
Hey, you boar!
But doesn’t hear him the Khan,
He is drunken and glorious with praises.
Alpamys shouts: — Look here,
Whom does the dervish look like?
Ultan looked at him.
His heart ached in his chest,
Khan grabbed his knife in hand,
But he started trembling,
His face was ashy and gray
And could not hold the knife,
And started to run and hide.
And here Jadiger caught up with him,
Shouting: — Let this fiend to die
At the hands of mine!
Give him to me, father!”
Alpamys nodded his head
«Jadiger, he is yours”!
The spear’s sharp sting shines,
And wheezing, crying under the kid,
Khan Ultan found his end!
Karlygash caressed her brother:
— You will not give me to strangers?
You’re our falcon! Our saver!
Our keeper and our avenger!
And admiring them, the people
In deep emotion, tears were shed!
They say: — Thank you, dzhigit!
This tyrant has worn us down!
That defeated by you, Ultan.
Undying glory to you!
And may Baibori, your good father,
Reign over us, forever!
In the white milk of the mares
Alpamys ordered to bathe both
His father and mother,
And they became younger,
They got rid of their wrinkles,
And happy days flowed one by one,
At the Zhideli-Baisyn.
This is the end of the story.
Dear friends, don’t scold us!
Once upon a time,
A man of wealth Toktar
was living a cushy life.
He had all sorts of wealth,
the full of cattle ninety groves,
to fettle those herds — ninety slaves,
Yestimshe was a lead of slaves.
Seems nothing wrong,
all is in wellness,
but Toktarbay was childless.
With that he couldn’t stop crying,
mind fixed of God,
he was in praying,
as the cattle can depleted ownerless.
Doing the round of all sacred site,
he was asking God for a child.
A horse dedicated in the name of saint,
and the sheep sacrifice to the Korasan,
recommending his soul to God,
he fell down bone-tired
and full of spiny reed all his round.
He turned to pray to a nurse of souls,
the nurse of souls gave an earnest,
the nurse of souls sent a message to Toktarbay:
«Get up quickly. God has given you a baby.”
It was a prophetic dream,
He would have a daughter and a son,
So the old lady and old man
met each other in fine.
«Seems God granted us a wish,
and the God
cheers the heart» saying this he hurried up
to made a day of his wife,
But the poor old couple
bored in waiting to no avail.
Then God Zhappar sent a reliance
suddenly and just barely,
there happened a prodigy.
So, again and again,
Toktarbay, in his nineties
dedicated horses in the name of saints,
and to the Korasan sacrificed sheeps,
recommended his soul to God,
and one more time sacrificed his herds.
So, when he came, some days later to home, in nine months and ten days the old lady Analyk in her sixties had contractions of labor pains, even expulsive labor pains. She gave a birth to a daughter and a son, an to top it all – he was handsome. The likes of wealthy Toktarbay has invited whole country, has organized a party, has gifted many poor, in-need people and has named his son. He had a big affair and fed the poor. They named the boy Koblandy and the girl Karlyga. The people ate, enjoyed and left the party at the end.
The heart is seized with perfect calm,
The worls is not small anymore,
Toktarbay’s heart sings with pleasure,
And seems he became hugely wealthy further.
The boy reached the age of six. Thinking of grazing the vast herds of cattle, he chose a light bay with a mole, joined Yestimshe and experienced hunting with hounds and hawking, and has been living the life of Riley.
Once he heard a clatter and chatter outside. Koblandy asked:
— Hey, Yestimshe, what is that about? And Yestimshe said followings:
— There is an old lady Koklen in Kyzylbash, she is a king. And this old lady put a high column in the middle of the land, placed a golden tenge-money on its very top and saying «Whoever is a man of spirit and has a strong religion, can do the shot» and promising “Whoever hits the center of the target, my daughter – the beautiful Kurtka will marry him.» The heroes from all over the world can not shoot at a target of one hundred sazhen and hit the tenge. And Koblandy replied:
— If I join it and can hit the target, do you thing the old lady gives her blessing to me to marry her daughter? Yestimshe said:
— «Even if you hit the target, you won’t get her». If you ask why, there is a tall man of forty arshin named Kyzyl yer (Red Man) and he is the greatest enemy of God. He is in love with this girl and said «I would marry her even if I hit the target or not». He won’t let you marry her even if you hit the target. You are immaturate, impuberal and he is out of your league.
So passed a few days. Went by a few nights. But the noice was not quite, and little Koblandy bent down and went there. He started watching. One by one many were shooting, but no one could hit.
Meanwhile it was Koblandy’s turn. He shot a bow, hit the target, so the tenge scattered in the air and fell down to the ground. Seeing this, the old lady Koklen said:
– Oh, my dear torch, I see you are the Muslim. You earned this not for your strength, but for the nobility of your religion. I also convert to your religion by faith, and I bless your marriage with my daughter.
During the wedding party to marry her daughter, the old lady handed over a dower loaded on ninety camels and said:
— One of a female essence is being an enemy of a man, my dear. Never allow with goodwill heart-to-heart talk with her. My daughter has no tongue, speaks thickly, like a tree eaten by worms. Never yell at her angrily as «I’ll teach you», nor cause actual bodily harm.
They were almost leaving when the forty arshin Kyzyl yer came across.
«I cannot allow to leave my sister without organizing a party with plenty of games for forty days and wedding ceremony for forty days» he said. Koblandy asked:
— What do you play, hero? Kyzyl yer answered:
— Let’s play “pick up tenge from the ground”.
Koblan was agree and saying “Deal» picked up the tenge from the ground, and riding his light bay with a mole horse galloped away. Kyzyl yer couldn’t pick it up as his horse was untamed. Koblandy said:
— Oh, hero, seems your horse is untamed. When I was young, I used to tie this horse’s back and ruled this fractious horse. Now it’s more soft horse – saying these he encitingly deceived the hero. So, there is a common saying “The hero is harum-scarum, and the rich is indifferent”.
Here Kyzyl yer replied:
«Then tie my hands and feet in the same way» and even gave his saddlebow straps to tie. Koblandy asked:
— If this one saddlebow strap is enough to tie your hands and feet? Kyzyl yer said:
— I used to tie a lot of enemies with that saddlebow strap. It’s made of witch’s skin lived during Shanshar Khan’s period. It’s very strong rope and wouldn’t part.
At his request Koblandy tied Kyzyl yer with his saddlebow strap, pulled with a calf skin whip the mottled horse, and the horse galloped off with a mighty heave, killed the hero by hitting him to mountains, rocks and stones. At that moment, the girl said to Kurtka:
— Kyzyl yer has two small children, Aganas and Toganas. You should kill them. Otherwise, when they grow up, would take revenge for the death of their father.
— Don’t be so sure. It remains to be seen, said Koblandy and they left that place.
Kortka takes care of horse Taiburyl
They moved to live in a different place. There were herds of horses among that places. And the beautiful Kurtka kept an eye on a one mare:
«Oh, hero, you should to buy this mare even if you have to give me for it» she said. Koblandy replied:
— If I give you then I should receive cattles of whole one tribe. But Kurtka said:
– This mare is pregnant and has a roan foal inside. If it gives a birth safely then I will give you this foal, as a bay horse is not suitable for riding during battles, and to join disputes, and is bred of cut-plug horse.
Then the hero agreed:
«I would learn who is owner of the herd» and went to talk with horseherd, who were sleeping at the foothiil.
— Whose herd is this? – he asked. The chief of the ninety slaves was Karakoshek:
— They belong to Salimbay – was the answer. He learned the real states of things and it turned out that Salimbay is a younger brother of his father Toktarbay. Koblandy batyr told to Koshek:
— Go to see Salimbay and say that your kid brother is starting a family. And also tell him to take my ninety loaded up camels in change of the old roan horse. Karakoshek went to see the owner and delivered the message from Koblandy.
Salimbay’s voice rose highly,
words tumbled from lips easily
and he spoke almost crying:
«Oh my dear, kid brother,
what a day we are having.
Let the God bless you,
invisible 40 sacred geniuses
always holding you.
And let us live faultless and see it with you”
Wait here, Koshek a little bit,
You mean this serios, indeed,
nice to hear, in very truth.
No doubt,
about the mare I don’t mind,
Only wish my dear torch,
achieve his good fortune.
So, dear Koshek, I’m embarrassed,
don’t say that you are lied,
I’m loading a sledge with worly goods.
I have three wives,
pregnant is the midwife,
I was just dedicate it,
to a baby coming to a life.
Why he is asking for a mare,
Just take it, we’re aware,
And be proud of own desire
To say his father
“I took the thing admired”.
Koshek was a nice guy,
Hearing it from Salimbay,
went out and rode away.
The answer was clear enough,
and without hesitation,
he delivered Salimbay’s reaction.
Koblandy was admired
Took the mare,
And came to his wife high hearted,
As God granted him a wish.
He was rounding around the mare,
wanted to know,
what means this affair.
When filled with milk the udder,
When the owner shows labour.
Happy end comes out,
And the mare gave a birth.
Kurtka catched it to her hands,
cared much from rains and winds,
from colds and hots
wrapped it to warm clothes.
A while after a little foal,
got strogher and played a role,
rounding near the male.
They were staying there for a few days more, take care of the mare and foal, feed them. The foal had an insatiable appetite and feeding by mother mare was not enough. So, he brought herds of fourty mares with only one stallion. “To become more stronger and have more good appetite” they fatten the foal to the gills, even added red medicine to it’s meal. After the foal improved in strength they moved to their country and built a house at the horde near his father Tokhtar. Koblandy asked his father:
— Dad, do you know anything about our herds’ welfare after I left? Tokhtar replied:
— Oh dear, how can I know? I thought you were probably among the herds. Hearing this, Koblandy did not even stay for a while at house, did not event drink the fermented honey, but immediately joined Yestimshe pasturing cattle at the foot of Karaspan mountain, continued hunting with hounds and hawking and went on dealing with the cattle. At that time, among the “forty thousand family of kiyat tribes” there lived a rich man named Saim and he had son Karaman. He was the was born in the same year and was the same age as Koblandy.
Karaman was leading the army with forty thousand warriors, including people of Karakozy, Akkozy, Kosdaulet, Karabukan tribes and holding a black-and-white flag as so happened that Kazan from Kalmykia built two cities Karakala and Syrlykala on the Kazakh land, accordingly captured the Muslim land. When Karaman heard that «Koblandy batyr from Karakypshak was staying among Karaspan mountain and hunting with hounds and hawking together with his slave Yestimshe, he said: “we are same age, were born in the same year” Let’s go there and see him. If he wishes to join us, we will continue together”, so they came to visit the place where Koblandy Batyr was living. Koblandy slaughtered a barren pasture-fed horse for every tent was built. Next day when they were leaving Karaman said followings:
Karaman batyr invites Koblandy to go for war-trip to capture Kazan
Karaman’s voice rose highly,
words tumbled from lips easily:
«I’m Karaman, Saiym’s son,
and I’m going to Kazan.
Why not you join us, dear peer,
I would like to beseech for here.
My contemporary, my friend,
My coeval of same age
We were born in same year together,
So I belive, my peer,
the enemy cannot stand,
if you came across them as a fighter.
We are head for Kazan city,
Why not you join us,
We are the brave tiger?”
Here Koblandy told a good game,
told a great ball game,
there was a sweet twinkle
on his face,
and he spoke so beautiful,
as saker falcon whistle,
«I have Kurtka waiting me at home,
And only she knows
pros and cons”.
Only this was said
and slave Yestimshe kept the course,
to note Kurtka and took the fastest horse.
There are white fabrics on the market,
Young colt plays in the circuit,
There is nothing wrong in this writ.
But here to note,
Yestimshe left away by rode,
when the night crowed,
and for bed everyone was called.
Yestimshe came to the yurt,
Living Kurtka in it,
It was just near Toktarbay’s yurt.
It was early morning,
When everyone was sleeping,
Yestimshe talked to a woman,
Staying outside her homeland.
«Are you at home, lady Kurtka,
Are you here, lady Kurtka,
You were born as a woman,
No chance, as if only you were a man,
You could lead all among.
Turned to fate issue to talk now,
After riding a red-horse as I know.
If the poor rides a horse,
the thief prepares a pole
with a running noose.
Aryslan wants to take the road,
to fight with enemy crowded.
Only Kazanat should be used for ride,
To protect against the enemy’s fight,
need to wear a belt sharbolat1,
and for body needs a zhalankat2
confide the soul to Zhappar God.
The dearest Koblandy is not alone,
There are many helpmates known,
Hey Kurtka, please let me know,
If the bay horse ready and waiting,
For the hero to go fighting? ”
Hearing Yestimshe’s express,
Kurtka opened her lashes,
moved flirtatious, cutesy
and saucy as flashes,
with a great play of golden shashbau
plaited in hair
whimpered as in milk mare,
as riffle of laughter,
she groaned a healthy sigh,
like a puppy squeaking,
like a star shining,
Kurtka started talking,
raised up her golden cap was wearing,
to Yestimshe who was waiting:
«The world full of men with dog sense,
living just for passion in essence.
Two yaerlings and one sheep,
is enough for one dagger, hence.
I see you were sent
For the horse at home, with weak joint.
Abase myself before my dear,
and my warm greats to the peer,
to the beloved hero of the nation.
to my coeval and friend with same intend,
to contemporaries and to whom with same kismet,
no one can carry out atrocity,
event a wolf cannot commit a villainy,
to anyone following and coming,
when I’m on a pale horse with marking,
and using a whip for running,
the party has another fun with the great talker,
goat and lamp meat tastes much differ,
satan and demon are also vary,
the same for born son and slave diversify.
To inform a wife like me,
You were sent I see.
Abase myself before my dear,
and my warm greats to the peer,
to beloved tiger of the nation
the for letting me be aware.
God forbid the slaves,
Let me never was left alone at graves,
If my sultan obey his wife that feeling trouble,
Send him my appeal,
He shouldn’t join this travel,
Should got no share of the haul,
Or his little lady will cry in all.
The mountain has an axis,
Oh, Almighty, you have boundless kindless,
If to know, how friendly can be coevals.
Say my greatings to my sultan,
So again and again,
If he obeys his wife,
He shouldn’t join this ride,
Also our lovely bay,
Is behind for forty-three days”.
Lady Kurtka who is born smart,
Sent back the slave with this comment.
The hero was embarrassed,
As there was a hope to bay horsed,
Inspite having many untamed horses.
Seems this shouldn’t be an argument for the man,
As per mind of peer like Karaman,
So he incited his friend to talk again,
And sent back someone to his woman.
Karaman incited as follows:
«We go there with mottoes,
To fight against and kill Kazan,
Capture the city and share trophies.
To take some Persian girls,
And put them in our bosoms.
Tumble grass1 full in the garden,
A felt cloak1, men are putting.
It’s uncanny to resurrected from the dead.
If the God returns things received?
Hey, my dear coeval,
What is the matter with you?
If to pay attention to woman sayings
And apply for advice in every cases,
Don’t you think, this type of man,
Can be also called woman? ”
Koblandy decides to go for war-trip
Should to see Kabylandy’s state,
He was pouring with sweat,
Hair stood on end,
Heart jumps out of his chest.
If abdominal part2 of kulan to collect,
Probably a fur cap can make.
So, having the same willing,
Karaman’s words were bone-chilling.2
As words hurt more than swords,
He saddled up the horse,
The batyr took his sword and hasten to village,
For all his is worth.
If only he was holding his weapon,
To fight with the foemen,
To destroy Kalmyk demon,
Then, no offense.
But the terrible thing is that,
The batyr thinks is the right,
To cut off head of his wife
Waiting with hope only things bright.
The gate used to close spaces,
We have the Prophet for happiness,
Lady Kurtka sitting at home,
Sighed hearing the horse clattered along.
«Probably this is my sultan,
riding a horse nearby around”.
Lady Kurtka opened doors hastily,
And gazed outside closely,
Gazing attentively,
She knew her hubby.
Kurtka felt guilty, but not intended,
Only the horse unprepared.
She was crying and in grieves to the heart,
As Kurtka was in awe of the hero,
was stood with her head low.
Now Kurtka in confusion,
Turned pale with fear,
Turned to ran around the house,
stepped at skirt of her dress.
But she found the right call,
Hold the horse by headstall.
The horse she was tube-feeding,
And at warm home careing,
Now nearby her was walking,
As she hope for a favorable turning.
Not a bay, but grey, the three-year old colt
Not seen the blue sky from born.
Taiburyl came out the shelter,
Went into the fresh air,
Felt the liberty of free walk,
Enjoyed the taste of scope,
Glint in the eyes,
Full of pith and was going intense.
The bay played out by jump,
twelve stretched out hands long a lap,
Seeing a grey stone in front of it,
Chewed as gnawing the bid.
When the bay jumped to the air,
Lady Kurtka fall down to the ground,
She is just a female,
But strong, as a male.
Kurtka was crying and said follows:
“The mountain has an axis,
The Almighty has boundless kindless,
There is no balance in meaning less,
Coevals have no limits in friendlies,
Hey dear bay horse,
You could even ascend to heavens,
What a pity,
But you are behind for forty-three days”
If the village gathers,
There would be a whole market.
At anywhere a man can be burried
If suddenly died.
He saw the bay within line of sights,
So forgoting about his charges and fights,
Paid attention to his bayhorse.
Then Koblandy said:
«I was busy with in-wintered herd,
I was busy with out-wintered herd,
I was thinking of summer pasture for herd,
Oh my God, I was so busy,
And forgot about my baby,
Even was so fullish,
Was to killing her ready.
The feather bed is softening,
Barley, wheat has peeling,
After the hero approached
Even she was in fear,
Looking down to the ground,
Sweetly sobbing and groaning.
Here Koblandy said:
«The feather bed is softening,
Barley, wheat has peeling,
Sweetly sobbing my Kurtka,
Seeing me was some groaning.
You can be the light,
During the dark night.
If I back safe and sound,
After this trip out,
Even if you are woman,
I would make you a ruler-khan.»
Koblandy also added follows:
«I’m a master of oratory,
A leader among contemporary,
Oh my dear Kurtka,
Even if I you are a woman,
You are bigger and above of others,
And best of the wives,
And dear Kurtka,
Say me, why are you groaning?
Even if you have a reason
for the value of a young man.
As your husband, your tiger,
Is alive and sitting here.»
Then Kurtka said:
“A fish can come outer,
At the edge of summer water,
In the name of the game.
You are the falcon, I am the shulen1,
When you return from far away
If I can hold myself,
Just have a look at yourself?”
Then Koblandy said:
«I’m good colored among horses,
And the one with thin bristles.
Unfortunately, I’m alone
And has no older brother, nor elder brother,
So, I cannot allow take a breather.
1 shulen -a male eagle
I am a desired kid,
Of Toktarbay and Analyk
They dedicated horses to the saints,
to the Korasan sacrificed sheeps,
recommended to God their souls.
So I beg you, no offense
I’m going to stay with
Lovely old parents.”
Whipped hardly Koblandy,
ambling on favorite Tobylgy.
Came to stay around,
To Toktar’s horde there build.
The lake is beauty with a sail,
And the buds without needle.
The old couple living in the horde,
«Wish our baby come to see us» said.
As soon as they said, they heard,
Coming to see their son by rode.
Both of them came at once,
Hold the helter to lead the horse,
Helped to shorten the reins,
And cut short the right rein.
They served a syrup juice,
To their only single son.
Again and again,
They took good care of their son,
The old couple were admired and delighted,
So sent him to sleep before the sunset.
On the bed were soft blankets,
Koblandy that night was sleepless.
Begged son of the old couple,
Enjoyed the beems of parents kindness.
Need to here mention,
Koblandy was handsome.
«Look at me, my smart son» said
his father lying on one side.
«Look at me, my dear son” said
his mother on the other side.
In the middle — Koblandy,
was turning round every time.
So in next twenty-four hours,
He didn’t sleep a wink on their kindly fight.
There was morning’s tender light,
The morning star is also sat,
Koblandy was sleeping,
And old couple were him hugging,
The bay horse, Kurtka prepared,
Taiburyl she has saddled,
Also she put some more feed,
The grey three-year old colt,
Never has been slept,
When all in all prepared,
Kurtka brought the Taiburyl,
Before the white horde.
… Taiburyl horse he rode,
Suit of armor he wore.
He sheathe the sword at his waist,
Prayed for Allah and asked help.
Koblandy was some lately,
As the troop left more early,
So Koblandy galloped away, went with a roar.
Toktarbay, who is in his ninetieth,
Analyk in her sixties,
And his sister Karlyga,
His wife – the lady Kurtka,
All four followed him crying
«Better you should kill us» saying.
They were following till noon,
Here Karlyga asked for listening:
«When people bless you, you go on with anything,
But if no desire, you start for nothing.
God created to mean weak points,
The steel things with golden hilts.
The gerfalcon flies,
relying on its tail and wings.
My dear lonely brother,
For this adventure you had a desire.
I’m thistle of clay places and stuck,
As a spakling on the top of a fur cap.
I wish my dear brother,
Got expected result from this desire,
Came safe and sound after the adventure,
And return back to his country,
And to his people in soonest future.
But what a pity to me here staying,
So, please tell me my brother,
About a peace offering, hereafter.
Dear brother, swan with tears my eyes,
We accept the fate, but all refuse.
I wish my dear brother,
Came safe and sound after the adventure,
And return back to his country,
And to his people in soonest future.
What a pity to me,
How can I compete with you!
I have a bunch of gold, thanks my fate,
When I have a brother near me, I’m all satisfied,
When my brother is far away,
I would feel as injured.
Crow quill is for my writing,
Duck feathers are for my warming,
Oh my milk brother,
You were my mentor, when I’m in mourn.
You are my dear, we argued during nursing,
As foals we were prancing,
Were born and grew up together,
And had in same time cord cutting.
Dear brother, who did you entrust,
full of groves your camels herding?
Filled with milk their udder,
The droves of horses,
And who did you trust herding,
full of sheeps your yards?
Never mind all that, say me first and all above,
Whom did you leave to the care of
Your father Toktarbay in his ninethies,
Your mother Analyk in her sixties
Your lovely sister Karlyga,
Say me, whom did you entrust poor me?
Kurtka, Koklen’s daughter,
Your soulmate, birth to earth,
And your near and dear,
Now tell me, my brother,
Whom did you left and entrust her?”
Hearing Karlyga’s message,
Koblandy was sad and fatigued,
And thingking many about the people,
Unable to bear it,
Leaning on a white spear,
He wept bitterly.
A goose would back else,
To the place where built the nest.
Always good with the peers,
The plays and laughs.
Trickled down tears from the eyes,
These were blood mixed cries,
keeping down his head, couldn’t bring out words,
Without showing his sister,
he wiped eyes with his sleeves.
Here Koblandy added:
«There are stones in the mountains, mottled,
There can be tears when a man fatigued.
You have long plaits covering your back,
Honey, listen to my remark.
If i’m late and missing for a long,
Crowded Kipchak
living at Karaspan mountains along,
Won’t leave you here,
Come on, my dear.
That’s a dear,
When you cry and call me brother,
It catches me sharply,
Don’t cry so piteously.
I am an only son of my parents,
I’m going to fight with enemies,
So, please don’t hurt me much.
Even if you are a girl,
I would be rather without a dream,
Than saying you are a small human being.
Oh my sister Karlyga,
Let me kiss your smiling cheeks.
I was hunting for swans in the lake,
Just only when was acute take,
A fish can come outer,
At the edge of summer water,
In the name of the game.
If you were a man, I beleive,
You won’t let me go my own,
Even if you are a girl,
I wouldn’t say you are a small being.
I sell cattle at the market,
For boyak1 and sheeting changed.
My sale horse made and matched,
To the sorrel of Arka light-colored.
Now, listen me my dear,
May the Almighty God,
Don’t hurt me and be alright.
My dear good girl Karlyzhan,
I entrust to Sarysu,
full of groves my camels,
The droves of horses with fully udder,
I entrust to enemy’s hunter.
Full of sheeps my yards
I entrust to hungry wolves.
To the young wolves,
With the like hammer — fangs.
My father Toktarbay in his ninethies
I trust to my Goodness.
My mother Analyk in her sixties
I trust to to Fatima.
And my sister Karlyga
I trust to Karashash.
Lady Kurtka, my complete and soul mate,
I trust to the wrestler friend.
There are four of you, and I am alone.
I entrust to God.»
When they cleared that he would leave,
As he made up his mind,
Now the beautiful Kutrka
Turned to talk the hero:
«You are good colored among horses,
And the one with thin bristles
You don’t have no older, nor elder brothers,
You are the only child of your parents,
You are the desired kid of your parents,
Who in their turn, dedicated horses to the saints.
After all happened to them,
How can you leave them all by alone?
You keep going on,
My loneliness won’t have sizing.
And my sultan, if you’re really leaving,
You should try breastfeeding,
Of my dear mother-in-law.
You are brunet by nature,
Plenty wash wouldn’t make you brighter.
God created you capricious,
Don’t think, you would hold by adviser.
You always hold your ground,
My sultan, now you going around
To the irreligious enemy,
And you are going there alone.
Goodbye, my sultan, and always mind,
We would worry what can happen to you?
Seeing the ranges and mountains,
Galloping on Taiburyl horse of yours.
That time you would find out
Good dignity of mine.
You would back when so happened,
Toktarbay in his ninethies
With no warm wearing on him,
even in short coat till kneel,
suffered much and shepherding
kaffir’s sheep and serving them.
Or maybe you would back,
When Analyk in her sixties
Weaving ropes, weaving wools,
And the kurt1 is making.
Let’s talk about your sister Karlyga
Keeping in hands her abada1,
Kitchen utensils around her belt,
Brewing, serving tea for enemy’s men,
as her brother, you would see these, I mean.
Blue boots are the strongest,
Autumn maturity are the best,
After you left me alone,
The strongest of the enemy.
1 kurt – meal product made of drying fermented milk
Would prefer to marry me,
Hope you would back till this happen.
I liked riding horses,
famous man praised.
God may have a lot to do
Saved to slave, whom alive.
Goodbye, my sultan,
Be safe, my sultan
Sniper masterly shot
The bosom of a flying bird.
The hand of faith,
Doubles the water in lake.
For everything you are desperate,
But one thing you missed,
And never say “you are my dear Kurtka”
When you look at the truth face,
At the edge of Issrapyl bridge,
At the Prophet’s wedding,
Don’t forget that I’m waiting.
I’m your poor Kurtka,
Oh my dear sultan, these are all my saying.»
With that, Lady Kurtka remained to stay. Koblandy continued to keep go. So, Kurtka added here:
– «Oh dear mother-in-law! I advise you to climb to that poplar tree, cross your legs, lay your chest bare and call him saying “My dear son, try a breastfeed for the last time”, and he should come to you. When he came, all four of us should grab him at once and cry out saying “To whom you are leaving us, you should stop here or kill us with your own hands”, so there is a hope that, first he would be ashamed of God, the second of you, and the third all of us and maybe woudn’t go to the trip.”
Hearing this, the poor old woman ran to the tree, the old lady in her sixtieth fell down but didn’t stop, had some while rest and took her chest bared out and called: «My dear, Koblandy, come here and nurse your mother.”
Koblan feeling that this would caught him, decided not to stop. But the God did not grant the wish. At that time Analyk first trusted to God, and second to the saints, thus blessed her son.
«First of all, Zhappar Allah Almighty,
Did you hear me,
Don’t make me cry.
Thirteen-year-old Koblandy,
Kissed my eyes.
Muhammad is also only son,
Wish him to remember you,
in “ummah-umbetim”1 praying.
And when you are in hardness,
And feeling a death,
you should remember and then come helps,
Gauss, Giyas – the two halves, two souls,
Omar, Osman — shahariar, are muslim friends,
Twenty-eight prophets,
The Prophet Khidr on the land,
The Prophet Elijah in the water
We scarify to each of you,
Or we are lost, without you.
We came over the hills,
We talk about grandfathers.
Hey Hirsute Aziz named Ykylas,
Worry, we’re all dead, please bear up us.
If is proud of itself a nice horse,
One day can fall into a hole,
Excavated outside the city.
If is proud of itself a falcon,
One day can captured,
To the cage of a falconer.
Twin born Blue Stallion,
You’re on your way.»
If only Koblandy, after this trip,
Came back safe and sound,
Then grey stallion born of twins,
Would dedicated for you, good heavens!
The grey bull born of twins,
The Prophet, dedicated for your bless.
The grey ran born of twins
Oh Hazrat, dedicated for your bless
Seems it’s my fate,
To gave a birth to a son in my sixtieth.
Save my only daughter,
Don’t let us see the harder,
Muhammad is also alone,
Wish to remember in ummah praying.
And my dear son for trip leaving,
I trust over to you.
1 “Umbetim” — a person who submits to the Muslim religion
If he gets lost, manage him the way,
Look after him as shepherd after ewe,
Also for any other trouble,
Sweep away from my baby,
Oh dear Hirsute Baba Aziz.
You are the patron of the lake,
You are the patron of the road,
Dear Kambar, you should also save.
Why did outstanding Karaman,
start this trip to Kazan town?
And who else can protect the one
Who is the heir to the throne?»,
The mouth of the river,
A man has a braiding collar,
And the Saints’s brother.
Not the Bakhar,
But Kumkent is the city-shahar,
Where the hens are crowing,
The donkeys are galloping.
Mullah, imam-khatib are near,
Imamah on a head as a wear,
Like an eagle in their hug,
And Subhan Allah is a logo.
High heeled boots he wears,
The fastest optimal for his rides,
His black gun is ready in a drug bag,
The straight steel trunk,
Also the heir to the throne
I handed over to you.
Waited ten month for pregnancy,
And bent my spine for my baby,
Walked on a frosty day for prenatal care,
Leaned against the door for maternity care,
On a cloudy day rotated,
On the icy cradle leaned,
Woke up only he whined,
Wish everyone pray for the benefit,
Of my precious son-kobegen1.1
The ribs were tilted,
My hands were bent,
When I took him in my arms, they were blunt,
But when I kiss him, I was satisfied,
Oh my tiny tot, my infant.
The strong horses won’t die in severe cold,
If feed by the reed.
Taiburyl serves correctly,
During the race trial.
My only son goes to the enemy
Who built far away a city.
Going for this trip my baby
I just hand over to you,
I just trust to you,
Oh lion named Ghali.
He is riding Taiburyl,
There would a place shadowy.
I entrust my dear son,
Khidr Baba and Elijah to you.
God holds the truth and treats well,
Sinners would end up in Hell.
Going to the trip
to deserts of Samarkand Shahizin
I entrust my dear son to you.
If I don’t pray, you left him for my care,
If you don’t hold, it’s your care.
My Prince, may Khidr Baba hold you,
May God bless and help you,
Be patient with the small way.
If you support my dear son,
A strong hunting bird, Almighty can send,
So, this is your care and your trust.
The redheads are unreligious,
But my son within the ummah,
Wish pray for him in the name of ummah,
I entrust my dear son,
Oh Muhammad, oh friend of God to you «
Қызылбас бөтен, бұл – үмбет,
Үмбетім деп еске алғын,
Қозымды сізге тапсырдым,
Алланың досы Мұхаммед».
Riding horse Taiburyl,
Which rides hell foe leather.
The one who saw Koblandy,
Worry if ready to dispapear.
Their lips were trembling,
And in sweat soaking,
Both old woman and man,
Stayed put, just to God praying.
Then bay horse galloped away,
Knowing nothing about the way.
But Kurtka cathched them anyway.
Koblan hero knows that she is unique,
Seems he expected it,
So, approaching them she is resumed.
– You would start your trip here. And when you got and join them, at the end of Alalai of the Synsylama bridge Karaman would send seventeen querrillas to spy out the land. They would climb to the top of Induly mountain and seeing the cities Syrlykala and Karakala at the Kazan territory would predict that «This is a one-day trip» and would back to report that. But even if they say it’s close, it can turn to a probably forty-day trip. After Karaman hears that it can take eight-day far and by, he would say “Whoever has a fastest racehorse, would lead the group” and gallop away. But you shouldn’t follow him. Because, I had a gaze on horses of the troops and saw a blue-roan without mane used by Karaman. It’s hoof would touch the ground, and would have forehead burn-injured, backache by long using a saddle, a girth gall, heavy sweating and occurs heat stroke, accordingly cannot gallop faster. Seems, there are no horse breeders in their country. If there was a horse breeder, there won’t be a horse that could outrun it. Again, you shouldn’t start riding with him. «Even if you are late for a few days, God willing you would outrace.»
Harkee was the command to the bay,
Hearing this it galloped off the way.
It rode fast as it’s feet carry them.
Kurtka’s dignity is known to Koblan.
Warriors left earlier,
Occupied on Alalai river,
They pitched camp along there,
So cathed the hero them here.
Koblandy batyr came,
Bed down for the night men.
Warrioirs were at that place,
Kurtka mentioned as a case,
At the river Synsylama,
Seventeen of them were elected,
Went to spy out the land,
And Koblan saw all that.
Then Koblan thought: “Kurtka’s main message was true. Now he was worry about “his land to be captured by the enemy”, but decided to let it go fow now as «Whatever happens, it happens on God willing.»
Then Karaman gathered all warriors and announced followings: «Whoever has a fastest racehorse, would lead the group». This time Koblandy did not join. He did not listen them. He paid no heed to his peer, even. Karaman left leading the large group of warriors. Koblandy climbed to the top of a hill Zhontobe and was having a rest. He had a habit to sleep over forty days.
Koblandy galloped towards Kazan city
Taiburyl was tied up,
Played with it’s bridle around,
This game was not enough.
So it sidled past,
To to a sleeping hero, so fast.
It came closer to sleeping hero
and landed a punch to his chest.
Mountains gave back
the sound of hooves,
Then the hero woke up,
Looked around, had quickly wrap up.
But there was no one, except himself,
And there was no time to sleep,
He should to rush for help.
The snowy peaks rise up
And reeds and rushes all around.
Taiburyl is as big as a camel,
It plays with it’s rider.
It takes any obstacle,
A pit, a ravine for it the same,
It jumps over them and rushes forward,
Like thunder booms,
with its four hooves,
even it doesn’t touch the ground.
The grass sings beneath the feet,
It’s ears were in bath of sweat.
The rider was pleased with the horse.
He said: «Kind to me my draw lots,
Because my wife born for great deeds.
She said the words to me
now my heart sings with joy:
«Taiburyl is winged and is your horse.»
I would like to test these words,
But tell me first, Taiburyl:
How do you feel, my horse?
You are my horse, winged and swift-footed.
To me you should pledged support,
To keep me safe and sound.
All the virtues that you possess should exalt:
Silver and gold is your wool,
Your tail is fluffy and your mane is soft.
I see Kortka said the truth:
— You’re, Buryl, are the best horse!
My flying horse, do not be afraid,
You won’t sweat, you won’t be delayed:
Do you feel, there is fresh breeze?!
None of four-legged can outstrip you,
But you, my racer, help me,
I’m a falcon among saddlers.
You know it’s my traits:
No one two-legged can outrun me,
For any case, you run as free as the air.
Far away is our home land,
Where horses graze by the river moist
Our horses in the reeds…
And still in my ears
ring out the words, words of my people:
«You are the hero, you are the batyr, Koblandy!»
So rush faster than the blessing,
To save my face in esteem,
And live up to reputation of heroic honour!
You have four legs.
Now stretch your strength,
If you’re my companion and honorable friend,
You must never fall behind,
From the birds that sailed through the azure sky!
The hostile army is still far away,
Forty days should take the way.
In a twink flew by this line,
Forty days is a long time,
But it wouldn’t take so longer,
For the horse, like you are.
Taiburyl, listen to me:
Kazan Khan, who is stronger than many,
Staying from here forty days away
Heroic fast ride you owe to me,
So, please show me,
In the here and right now!
If you won’t show me, and you feel fear,
— I’ll be offended by you here,
And Kurtka, too, in her village there.
So, my horse, count the cost!»
The rider waved his whip in the wind
and hit the horse on the hip.
The whip burned the horse,
And not just a hip.
It began to burn the heart,
And blood flowed from the wound,
it became as a hot stream
And as a drink for the raven.
The heavy blow of hero’s,
Continued to burn the horse.
Suddenly it acquired a singular gift —
The horse here found voice.
«The same a pine tree or a plane tree, it said,
Has no mercy by dry hot wind.
You whip up your whip,
Gave blows, but no quarter given to my skin.
If the horse is mighty and winged —
Then it’s mane is neat.
If the rider shows courage,
Then his soul is noble.
My lord, remember from now on:
You have a merciless thong
I’ve stand a blow, but you should know,
Blows nearly choked the life out of me!
Your parents are elderly people,
And you are their only son,
You’ve decided that by yourself,
Can take on the Kyzylbash army alone,
And, taking revenge on me,
You think to ride there at one stroke.
Well, I’ll help you,
because I amble masterly,
I’ll use first both my right feet,
And then use both left feet.
But you, too, rider, help me:
To make our deeds come true,
And to prevent to lie down poor me
In the middle of one of the roads,
Don’t jerk the bit hardly.
God created me as a horse,
And saved me as the best for you.
To Kazan, to the enemy troops,
There are forty days to go.
Koblandy, here you want me,
Kyzylbash’s army to be reached,
In a single moment.
That’s the way even a bird can’t fly,
Well, if I’m matching and score so high?
But I will multiply my strength,
So be it, I here promise,
Even it would hard, on time I’ll arrive.
But remember, you are my brave rider,
What I have to say this time to you:
If the afternoon pray time is not over,
Cannot be started an evening pray,
You will find yourself in front of a fortress
The wall that surrounds the city,
You will got the Kyzylbash meare.
If I can not make it – stab me with a dagger,
Yes, Koblandy, stab your horse!»
Then Koblan rejoiced at hearing it,
He shouted: «Hait, my aster, hait.
And Tyburyl flew like a blizzard,
As a storm that suddenly agitated.
Sweat rolls of the side of its ears,
It’s galloping as flying,
And hoofs even don’t grounding.
Mountains rose or grass lay down.
Cannot recognized from afar.
It meets a rock on the path.
And the rock turns to gleeds.
In turn keep running or flying as eagle,
It brings the far distance closer!
Under the hooves of four
The steel can turn to clay.
It will not lose his honour!
Ears have become sharper
Than the reeds on the riverbank.
On the run gasping for breath,
Like a rawhide it went all limp,
But by noon it’s strength strained,
And at full throttle galloped,
And the spirit rushed at full speed
As if broke free from it’s tether,
And twisting an iron string.
Koblandy, made much headway,
Passing by sparsely populated way,
Even didn’t think to catch up warriors,
That rushed to the campaign yesterday.
Late in the afternoon
He saw a pass in the distance,
I saw a rider and a horse.
Koblandy rode up to the rider,–
It was Kara-Bukan, a warrior.
“Hello!”, Koblandy exclaimed:
“Is there anyone ahead?”
In response the rider said:
«You look at that mountain ridge,
There rides Kosdaulet.
I see that your horse is good,
You can catch up with leaders!»
Here Taiburyl gave the shivers,
Jumped up the steep rocks,
Koblan caught up with the rider:
As was said, tt was the warrior Kosdaulet.
«Hey boy!”, Koblandy exclaimed,
Who goes ahead?»
In response the rider said:
«We lost track of you long ago.
You are lost, they say, aren’t you?
Behind that steep cliff over there.
«Our bold Akkozy is riding.»
After overcoming a steep pass,
Koblandy rode to the rider.
He said: «Hey boy, hello,
Who is galloping there over those rocks?»
Akkozy said in response:
«We rode at high speed, but still couldn’t see you near us.
So decided: Koblandy cannot find us,
He had lost his way,
Since you’re here, open your eyes:
Beyond that mossy mountains
You’ll see Karakozy!»
After overcoming a steep pass,
Koblandy rode to the rider.
«Hello!” Koblandy exclaimed,
“Is there anyone ahead?»
“Wait, my torch” he replied,
“Let me think, and keep you wait.
Here we left yesterday,
The night darkness was replaced by heat of the day,
And thy peers we lost in this morning.
He flashed by like scissors
At the mistress in thin hands,
Srapkled like raindrops,
As if a whirlwind had blown over him.
Maybe in the clouds now he’s riding?»
The rider waved his whip in the hot wind
and hit the horse on the hip.
The hit burned Taiburyl.
The swift horse took a leap,
Over the rocks of the ridge.
Koblandy firmly holds his spear,
On the left, the mountain stream murmurs,
On the right, the light of the evening star comes
breaking through the day sky.
Where are the tracks of Karaman’s horse?
Taiburyl flew like a blizzard:
It turned out that it was a winged horse!
Overtook all his friends Karaman,
He was faster than the wind,
and swept all before him,
Aspiring to his goal.
But Koblan caught up with him, too,
And said words a few:
«Is it all your strongest single force?
Is this your vaunted horse,
Which is stronger than the others?
Exactly in twelve days from now.
Come to my tent to visit,
That today in the evening,
I will set up at the foot of the mountain…
You didn’t wait for the right time,
Oh, Batyr, you’ve bucket your horse.
You called me a woman.
You re my friend,
And you ought never to have done this.
Look around, Karaman,
How many of your brave men are here,
Look here now, Karaman,
What a perfect this bred by woman horse!
Even though my Kortka is a woman,
But her destiny is high,
She has no equal on the earth!
A horse bred by my wife
Will jump over the ridge!
Would you like to ride with me?
Or is there no strength in your horse?
I’m late, but look at me,
I’m in the lead,
You’re far behind.
You should ride faster from now on:
As all know, you would die before stay behind.»
Kyyat tribe warriors,
Gallaping in a hurry among mountain roads,
But Koblan doesn’t look back,
He gallops steadfastly onward,
It is impossible to catch up with him,
And the Kyyat noisy army
Gets tired and behind him.
Buryl rushed into run:
With the mighty power of its hooves
Into clay turned the stones!
Like a lightning bolt shape,
Tyburyl carries itself over the highest ridge.
Turning into a ferocious wind,
Through the deepest cliff
Taiburyl is carried itself.
Here is the lake covered
With reed thickets that rustling,
Where lots of geese are shrieking,
Here are the lake shores,
On which bullrush grows,
With snowwhite swans glint.
Lake Shigendi is also here,
The green is reflected till peaks,
And seagulls have arrived and fly over there.
Here is the lake of copper-red water,
Copper-red as ore,
The bird’s song is keenly heard,
It’s a lapwing’s quite shelter.
Here are the lakes Kotan and Kumra.
Twins with generous moisture.
The horse went at full gallop,
By jumping five lakes crossed,
And the mountain peaks appeared.
The horse’s run is amazing,
The snow on the mountains is dazzling.
Many ridges, mountain pass,
Kara-Tau, where a khan was on summer pasture,
Ala-Tau, where a bay was on summer pasture, —
The horse has passed all of them.
The mountain is curved, become darken,
Like a camel’s neck, a mountain,
And these mountain’s peaks,
Sharp like girl’s breasts.
Two mountains – Atasu and Manashi.
There’s not a soul around here.
Here the grass is not tasty for cattle,
Here water is not clean for people,
Not good places they are,
So, Koblandy rode them through.
Over deserts without water,
Over wide lakes that full of water,
Above the mountains disguised with snows,
Above the land where only sands,
Where the grassless salt marshes
Over the Earth, whose power and beauty
The birds in sing in the forest.
Over the land where the berries are countless,
Where labors and hardships are countless,
Above the land that in snow fell asleep,
Above the land that has forgotten peace,
Drunk with human blood,
Where meadowsweet blossoms in the field,
Where the fruit falls from the branches, —
Koblandy flew by on his horse.
Like thunder before a summer rain,
Taiburyl rumbles on the road,
And the ground trembles all around
With the powerful hooves thump.
The horse is stronger than the steppe blizzard.
Quarter longer two front legs,
Than the hind legs.
It runs like no other,
Even hooves doesn’t touch the ground.
The goose that flew out together,
Lost in its vapor.
Sweat is pouring down its chest,
And it rushes forward,
And Buryl stretches out
Five hundred more fathoms long.
To the height it rushes,
Stones fly under the hooves.
It seems that the Kyzylbash troop
From flintlocks shot upwards.
Look at Buryl:
At the strongest of the horses
The rider is as light as tebetey ,
Hope the rider not fall!
The horse has a heroic scope,
It opened a mouth wide,
And the dust it raised on the various hills,
Blended into one line.
At the hour when the sunset has blotted out
The streams and the grass and the dew,
The stallion Tyburyl went mad!
It was burning like a fire,
The kulan and the argali feared
to cross its path fiery.
On the meadow or on the field,
It didn’t let birds to breathe,
On the lake’s damp shore
It didn’t let the herons to fly,
As it crushed them on flying.
If you don’t want to, then don’t believe it,
But it was trampling in the grass
Whether it’s a bustard, or a peewit,
And for hawks and falcons
It was an unexpected yield,
As the food was served for them
Under the horse’s hooves.
Over the arid steppe plain,
That never knew the river breath,
Over the deserted wilderness,
Where were afraid to fly the moths,
Over the high icy mountains,
Where never took flight the eagles,
Over the salt marsh vapours
A lonely rider galloped by.
The homeland is far from him.
If the enemy attacks him,
The Kipchak tribes wouldn’t help…
The midpost prayer is over,
And the evening one starts some later,
Both the horse and the rider understood
That the appointed time is coming!
Kobland looked ahead:
Are there any city gates in sight?
The young batyr saw then,
The country of Aytatyr beyond the mountain,
Where meadows from end to end
Overgrown with wheatgrass and other green.
So many white and grey sheeps,
Were grazing by meadow grass!
And Kazan Khan’s numerous and strong racers,
were grazing by five poplar trees.
On Buryl, faster than the wind,
Koblandy galloped off and shouted suren ,
Loud cries of the hero rent the air,
A grey-piebald strong horses,
Into a handful he immediately gathered,
And, keeping them together, drove them further.
Having captured the Kyzylbash cattle
He reached the city gate.
Covering his face with a shield,
Into Syrly-city he stormed.
Inflaming with furious flames,
He turned the city to ashes.
Raised a cloud of dust,
Blood spilled in the streets.
He plunged the enemy into darkness.
He tore off the felt of enemy’s yurt
And used it as a sweat cloth.
He cut in half the frame of the yurt,
And turned it into firewood.
He gave no mercy to his enemies.
Here sayings are true:
Fighting a whole army alone,
Koblandy, Toktarbay’s son,
A hero whose deeds are bright,
Destroyed the Syrly city!
Near the town, they say,
Kaskyrly mountain,
above the city rising.
Koblandy, whose feat is great,
On a horse that is winged,
To the top of the mountain rode,
To rest for the time being he decided,
and to see if Kortka was right.
The Battle with Kazan Khan
He saw from afar,
After twelve days had passed.
The dust has blown up in the clouds,
And heard the stomping of horses:
This was the Kyyat army,
Having rushed to capture Kyrly city,
To take away the city of Kyrly,
To raise the devil to Kazan Khan.
With deep ditches in six rows,
Encircling the city around.
The city was surrounded,
Also by brave men taking duty, all sided,
Forty thousand, they are in amount,
So it was hard to enter Kyrly,
The enemy is entrenched in the city.
Karaman couldn’t do anything
To overcome the immense moat,
To jump over the six rows
And reach the city gates.
For whole three days he circled around —
The army did not advance forward.
He realised that cannot capture Kyrly,
So on his horse up the mountain he rode.
He rode there at the dawn,
Saw Koblandy sitting on the mountain
In a camping tent he was resting.
Karaman says here to him:
«Let’s remember one truth:
If I swing an axe,
The rock will stand, will not collapse.
Good is the one who remembers no evil.
Won’t you come with me
To fight with the Kyzylbash country?
Without you I’m weak, I won’t be able
To defeat the enemy».
Koblandy said in response:
«If I can compare a hill and a mountain range?
Or what if I compare a thoroughbred horse and a gelding.
Who calls a mane as a rump?
Who cannot differ the honey and the sugar?
The words of the past, thou shalt understand the absurdity.
You have not destroyed the fortress, understand.
Don’t get me wrong,
But, I hope, you understand the absurdity of the previous said.
And you didn’t destroy the fortress, I mean.
So how does a woman destroy the fort?
Not knowing how to fight,
How dare you call me a woman
Call so, the real hero,
Saying your abuse three times?
You rushed to leave me behind,
But now it’s your turn to remind,
And burn with shame, Karaman.
Get out of my sight forever,
To remember the lonely truth clearly:
Even though you’re a man,
I will not take you in return of my woman.
As there is no earning!
Why do I speak about Kurtka, now?
So cheap is your price, you should know,
Even doesn’t cost the words,
She said in anguish:
«My darling, thou art faraway and alone!»
A brave man of the Kiyat tribe
was stung by this discussed:
«Because of a woman still
Are you angry with me, my friend?
Well, then, I’ll go back without you.
If I am destined by fate.
I will capture the enemy’s fort,
If not, then I will die with fame,
We won’t meet you again!»
So saying, he drove his horse,
Keeping a grudge in a pure heart.
Suddenly, Koblandy was saddened:
«Because of a woman’s saying
Is angry with me a friend!»
At the horse that Kortka bred,
He jumped up and headlong galloped,
Catching up with Karaman, he said:
«You pay shot, my friend!”
And Karaman loudly laughed,
To reconcile with his peer he was glad,
Almost jumping out of his skin with joy!
He rode up together with Koblandy
Towards his mighty warrior army,
Joined their thick ranks,
That surrounded around a wide, long foss.
The hero Koblandy here sais,
To Taiburyl these words:
«We have been given to fight together.
We’ve been friends for a long time,
Our friendship is forever.
Kurtka told me of you,
«It’s a horse, but it can fly.»
Kurtka is woman, that was a mother for you.
Will you jump over the foss,
Say me Taiburyl, over those six rows?
Behind the seventh is the city wall.
Maybe the task is difficult at all?
How are you feeling, my animal?
Will you jump over or not?»
The swift-foot steed responded
It’s upper lip wiggled,
A lower lip a little twitched,
and, with difficulty in controlling itself,
it started speaking and hoarsely whispered:
«Are you really on a foreign soil,
Going to take it out on me?
If you say that Kurtka
Has become a good mother to me,
Then, our friendship is knitted,
And I wouldn’t sell my sweat!
Here I speak with an open mind,
Even know that Koblan is stubborn:
I will serve the hero,
Let’s defeat the enemies!
Saint Kambar – is the patron of horses,
And he holds me as a solid stronghold.
I’ll prove that I’m the best horse,
I’ll jump over and reach the gates,
If I can’t reach it, I’ll die in harness,
I will die for my master.
Know that my vows are firm,
Koblandy, wish me now good fortune!»
The hero rushed to fight.
«Hait!» was the command to the steed.
Buryl bent over for a moment,
Threw back quickly, after stretched out,
And galloped off swiftly.
Before it was an immense moat,
Over the six rows it jumped!
The city wall was behind the seventh.
Now look at the horse:
It took a leap like a hare,
Flew faster than an arrow,
And the both, the horse and the rider,
Arrived to the Kyrly center!
Taiburyl galloped off, raising the dust,
Ddug up the city with its hooves.
That’s how Koblandy penetrated,
showing courage, the enemy camp.
Karaman lagged behind him,
Although he was young and handsome.
Stepped onto the threshold, Karaman
But he couldn’t penetrate the fortress,
For the warrior it was hard,
Bow to his friend.
And the news has come to the enemies,
That the Kyyat army has arrived.
And are ready to fight.
From one side is the head of the Kyzylbash,
who is Khan Kazan.
From other side is Koblan,
Who has the fearlessness of a lion,
And rushed into an unequal battle.
He saw in front of him
Forty thousand horsemen,
on their powerful steeds.
The infinitely powerful noisy army,
Looks like clouds dark,
Raising their green flag.
The enemy swept down the battle.
Koblan has the courage of a lion.
The hero has rolled up his sleeves,
He’s impatient and a hot head.
His white arms he bared,
He hastens to the fight.
Who is rushing towards him?
Who rides a horse raven-colored,
with a white bald spot on its forehead?
Who is hastening to fight?
He wears a chain mail of iron,
Holds a shield in front of him,
He sits in his saddle a black cap wearing,
In the middle of Kyrly fortress,
His horse’s tail and mane
He has tied in tight knots.
This is the very one who knows no shame,
who has shaken the earth with violence,
The one who can forty times a day
Can make an inroad upon the herds.
He is Kyzylbash’s strongman and braggart,
He has killed Kazakhs more than once;
He’s the one who’s dangerous to the enemy,
He’s the one whose eyelids are in the snow,
Covered with ice, whose eyelashes,
And the one Kyzylbash’s army who leads,
May sleep once in twelve days,
May be hungry for thirteen days,
Who, may lead a raven horse and never gets off;
The one who is pine for trouble and worry,
If God does not send him an enemy,
Who has a brocade on the shaft,
To make it soft for the hand
When to strike with a spear deadly,
Who looks like a snowstorm,
If anger rages within him,
This is the fearsome Kazan himself!
He says: «Hey kid, wait a bit,
Don’t go away, I’ll take care of you!»
If came to blows the enemy,
Who can stand of such a call?
This is khan’s son Karaul,
This is feudal’s son Begaul,
These are the thirty khan’s nobles,
They call them «Yessaul».
They are idle youths and hanger-on,
They don’t know the honest work,
From every family ten warriors,
They call to gather their troops.
They chase the poor people on foot,
Under the blows of their stinging whips,
Blood of the serfs is being shed at the gates!
Now, you look at them:
Kyzylbash’s youth, forty thousand of them,
Rush all over to hasten a fight.
Behind the troop rides a troop,
Each has ten strong men.
Then a gaze is fixed on Koblan.
This is Kazan Khan, head of the brave men.
But Koblandy wasn’t daunted,
As steady is the hero’s mind!
And then the head of the Kyzylbash
Pronounces such words:
«You Kirghiz, seems have arrived from Ala-Tau,
Then why do you look down?
Why is your horse weary?
As if you came from the world’s end?
And why it’s mane in dust?
As if it passed the wild ground?
Why you yourself are weary,
Your eyes blazed red with fury,
As if someone has disturbed your sleep?
Where are you going, young Kirghiz,
Riding on a roan horse,
Tell me in which site,
You would stay for the night?
For us you are a stranger,
You’re wearing brocade colored,
Tell me, who is your father?
And Who is your mother?
I want to know, whose son you are?
This is me, Kazan hero is speaking,
Answer now to me,
Mind that, tell it like it is,
And mind also, don’t joke with me,
Be afraid to meet my wrath severe
It will burn you like fire!
I’m saying with no intention to hurt you:
Thou hast a chain mail and a horse,
Give them to me willingly,
before my hand didn’t touch thee.
Koblandy said in response:
«Wait a minute, you stinking dog,
It’s humiliating for me
To give to irreligious a horse.
Take your time, and I’ll rest,
Is here my long-maned,
As my horse is always with me.
Kyzylbash, you’ve completely gone crazy.
You stupid, you haven’t arrived yet,
but talking about a horse.
If you’re impudent and you can’t wait, —
Come up in plain sight
I’ll settle my score with you.
You have a despicable father,
How could you dare, you jerk,
Talk about my father?
Thou hast a wicked mother,
So thou want to hear it, bleeder.
The name of my good mother?
Thou, whose speech sounds blasphemy,
And conceived in fornication by a whore!
When you see my wrathfull face,
You would feel a shiver in your filthy heart,
Thou wilt never enter again,
At that gate that you have erected!
You dress like the shah,
You smell of hops, Kyzylbash,
Every day you are drunken,
Oh, the brainless, swaggering Kazan!
But now you will take off your brocade,
I’m going to tread you to pieces.
Warrior, prepare yourself for death,
If you can, own warm blood
You will drink from your neck!
A hero who is drawn to goodness,
No words from despicable foe desires,
Before the battle with him.
A fierce anger appeared on my face,
like rain with snow.
Look at me: I am a Kazakh,
This world will not be in tears.
As long as my life lasts.
Fighting with Kyzylbash to the death,
I will not leave alive my enemies,
And people like you, more than once
Gave me their own horses!
I’d cut you with a glance of my sword,
You’d yell: «I’ve cut you to pieces!»
With a spear I’d pierced you,
You’d shout: «I have frightened you!»
I’d kill you with a bow,
You’d say: «I was taken by surprise.»
I’d kill thee with a rifle, —
You’d be offended: my shot is bad!
You’re sitting on a horse, Kazan,
There are countless of yours, but I am alone.
Here comes to you a little man,
Start the battle of honor,
Kill him, if you can!»
So the opponents entered the battle,
But at first, they talked to each other
like two friends, knowing each one another.
But then Shaitan got to them,
Yes, who else can do so, but a demon.
The points of the long spears rose up,
And stained them with stream of blood.
On the grass, in the middle of the dawn dew.
The steeds crouched like dogs,
And sweat broke out on the saddles,
As sweat ready turn into ice.
Once the rider spit on the ground,
Every spit becomes blood!
They tried to cut each other apart.
But each one’s sword broke.
Their saber here they took,
It’s edge became blunt.
Blood was rushing to their eyes,
As their lives decided to renounce.
Two brave men clenched their body,
Like two ferrets hungry.
Stretched the skin of the girths,
were untied their armours’ rings.
Koblandy defended his honour
Here came to him the good fortune:
He knocked the enemy out of his saddle,
So made him to sit by the horsetail,
And plunged into Kazan, his exterminating spear.
The mighty enemy swayed,
his crescent-shaped banner felt,
And from his body blood gushed out.
Koblandy, in a hurry to win,
Attacked the enemy again,
And his soul left his body.
So, breaking into the enemy’s camp,
Koblan destroyed Kazan.
At noon the Khan fell at the gate,
And his mouth was filled with sand.
The high rank noble is groaned,
The Kyzylbash began to shout,
To be heard by all the people.
They picked the dead man up and carried away…
There’s no brave leader,
Who will lead the fight now?
Koblandy destroys the enemy army
Kyzylbash’s army is crowded,
Like forty thousand sheep.
They cannot escape defeat:
Koblandy is a real brave man.
And it’s too late to turn back
Seems the earth is cramped every moment
There’s no turning back,
The whole universe clenched into a fist
For the fighters and for their horses.
On one hill they all crowded.
Only one thing on everyone’s mind:
To kill Koblandy during the battle.
They have lost their prop
Kazan Khan by the Creator punished.
And to their strife put an end.
Bragging about their numbers,
Took an arrow each warrior,
Koblandy, who was born and acring as a lion,
On their land they’ve surrounded.
Koblandy saw that he was
surrounded by the Kyzylbash,
He saw that he was alone,
And he drew words from his heart:
«God, do you see my trouble?
I’ll look to the west, I look to the east –
But can’t see a support anywhere.
Are there men of the Kipchak family –
Who will come to help me?
I rode off on a roan horse,
To put an end to a predatory enemy.
During I’m fighting for my honor,
And I will defeat the Kyzylbash,
Who will bring home the news
of such a heroism of mine?
Become my support, Oh Lord,
Let the opponents overcome,
Because I am alone.
If, pierced by a steel lance
I’ll fall, bleeding the sand,
Who will bring me to my home?
Who will show my elders
The horse that beneath under me
And the armor now I’m wearing?
Help me in this war!
Even if the arrows pierce through
The armour that Daut made, —
I will still defeat the enemy.
Help my spear,
Help my arrow,
Made in the Bukhara land,
Let the bow made in Bulghar
Sows death and doom all around,
Let my enemy be crushed
With the precious stock of my gun!
I swear I won’t regret
The strength of the heart
and the strength of the hands
That my eyes will be sharp
But you, my Bulgarian bow,
And you, the Bukhara’s arrow,
Swear to me that in battle
You will support my strength,
And won’t break in half.
I will, here I take an oath
To defeat insidious enemies
But you too, my gun, do swear
Me dear gun, do not be lazy
And you will spew fire from the trunk.
You, chain mail, took care of me,
Protected me ever since.
If would not shoot at point-blank range,
The bullets won’t pierce you.
King Daut made you.
You are not afraid of rainy nights
You are not afraid of the sultry rays
You are not afraid of sharp swords
You are not afraid of enemy picks.
Your collar is golden
Your sleeves are solid copper.
I promise to defeat the enemies
But you protect me too,
Give me an oath: that to the white chest,
That parents are dear much
Won’t turn the enemy’s bullet! «
Above words Koblandy said,
And in anticipation of distant trouble
Taiburyl neighed, trembled.
Straightening its heroic stature,
Koblan to the attack rushed.
Taiburyl ran over the stones,
Creaked its hooves,
As if snow lay underfeet.
There was a neighing angry,
As if it threatened the earth with death.
Look at Koblan, at the lion:
Over his eyebrows he pulled the helmet,
He was thirsted for enemy blood.
Good people, listen to this
All by my own narration!
Like a forest that is wide and dense
Forty thousand enemies rustled,
But the hero Koblandy believed,
As if were forty people there.
His eyes were firm,
From the heroic ages snow was falling,
And the eyelashes were covered in ice.
Even if the body it reaches,
The arrow as a thorn for him!
Kyzylbash, in a crowd standing,
Felt that death had come!
Behind him having no friends
Being rich only in courage and strength,
Koblandy, like a wolf to lambs,
Suddenly attacked a hostile army,
And Kyzylbash warriors began to destroy.
Like a kulan overtaken by a leopard,
The mighty Koblan raced to the goal,
Like a river he shed the enemy’s blood.
With a bloody hand
Koblandy squeezed all harder
A banner soaked in scarlet blood.
He saw a ravine on the left,
There were three thousand horses,
He saw a ravine on the right,
There were six thousand horses,
The horses can be useful for him,
He here thought: «I’ll take
These horses on the back way,
Taiburyl, you fly forward,
The enemy must be attacked!»
He showed his power to his enemies,
Forty thousand he drove alone
The frightener of regiments and troops.
Here he rushes, breathing heavily,
Far away from his own and lonely,
He is tired, and his soul
At this moment in hand of the enemy.
When he turns around, there is no road,
There is no help and no friend!
But the Kyzylbash army is running,
From the saddles falling off at a gallop,
But they can’t resist
To a lonely daredevil.
Is it necessary to stand still,
If the enemy has turned back?
If the enemy is trembling and running,
Do they ask the enemy a question:
How to chop you, with an ax or a sword?
Koblandy is merciless in battle,
By his dear spear
Blood flows in a crimson stream.
The Kyzylbash’s arrogant army
Koblandy forced to run.
He cut them in half.
Be amazed at his deeds
Six hot days and nights
He exterminated those strongmen,
That they were loyal to their leader,
And did not flee from the field of war.
Afternoon of the seventh day
All the opponents were killed.
The frightener of regiments and troops,
Koblandy was left alone
In the middle of a silent land.
He stood leaning on a spear,
And in his soul the thought grew:
He will fulfill his desire,
To the ground he will destroy the city
Let Kyrly-kala perish!
In his pray he praised
Glorious seven forefathers,
He became stronger than solid granite.
He did not let out of the city
No gentlemen, no cattle.
At the gates rose menacingly the dust,
The suburb is burning, everything is in blood:
That retribution itself is burning!
Those whose dress is always made of silk
Who always have bangs
He turned these noble wives into widows,
And he turned the landlords into slaves.
He took away so much good
So much silver and gold,
That in any way, could not be counted.
Like wool trampled underfoot
Kyzylbash important nobility.
We decided to banish deception,
Only the truth is dear for us:
He destroyed the stronghold of the enemy,
And severe punishment works
Lasted seventeen days.
Koblandy drove out of the gate
Landlords, cattle, and horses,
He drove them in front of him …
Did not engage in battle with the enemy
From the Kiyat tribe leaders,
And they are not happy
With the victory of someone else.
They look at the prey,
The prey that much turned out.
Seems that a low soul
Those leaders possessed.
Those leaders reasoned
Sitting in a marching tent,
From the battle far away, on the mountain:
«Koblandy, returning home,
Would tell his relatives, his friends,
That the enemy himself he destroyed,
And the loot of battle
To the Kiyat army he gifted,
For we could there to fight;
We are worth nothing, thay said!
And for us, this word is trouble,
Will despise us the people.
Better let Koblandy die,
This daredevil terrible-eyed,
This lonely Kipchak! «
The conversation lasted till midnight
Between the traitors in the tent.
The fiends of evil have decided
To kill Koblandy at dawn,
It was decided, but it did not come true
What was born in an evil soul:
Collusion, sneaky deception
By the hero Karaman was discovered.
«Only the most despicable horseman
will denigrate a companion-friend!»
So said the hero Karaman,
He nipped the evil in the bud,
This word burned everyone.
They rested for five straight days,
The cattle were fed with dense grass.
Only the sixth day lit up,
Decided to return back
Brave men of the Kiyat tribe.
With interest, Koblandy rewarded them,
With the loot of battle
Turned out to be rich everyone.
Karaman was filled with longing:
«Will I really come back,
Without touching the enemy?
Hey, fate, you’re hard on me!»
The leader of the Kiyat tribe
Stared at his peer
And he said: “My brother, my friend,
You are a leopard in battle,
I saw your courage.
But too wicked is my fate:
My spear wasn’t let
To penetrate deep into the enemy’s heart.
Koblandy, my peer and my brother!
Good people say
That not far from here
There’s a khan of Kobikty.
My companion, help to me
Steal the horses of enemy!
I will join the battle again,
In the meantime, the loots of battle –
The Kazan Khan’s herds
We will assign to the Kiyat family:
Let their warriors watch the horses.
If the khan of Kobikty, is the miscreant,
On my way he would stay,
With a spear him I will destroy.
He is a mighty batyr, they say,
The victory over him is an honor!
You will see, Koblan, that is in me
There is courage and there is strength.
I didn’t show them in the war,
I didn’t hit the enemy with a spear,–
So come with me together!»
Koblandy agrees with him:
“If you want it — let’s go,
Where appropriate, we will defeat the enemy! «
Koblandy is captured
Batyrs saddled their horses,
That the lightning flashed brighter
In their golden equipment,
Rode the hilly path
They rode some fun sharing,
They rode without praying,
Forgetting the wise ancestors to remember.
At the hour on their journey when they started,
The army into sleep plunged.
Under the shelter of the night darkness
At dawn there were friends
Near the Kobikty city.
They saw the grass in silver
The shore of the blue Cuba lake.
It was the herding time.
Two peers were shocked
With a number of mismatched horses.
A scream burst out
Stronger than the thunder.
With an imperious cry into a single handful
Horses were collected
And drove in front of them
Through the lakeside soft path,
Where the bushes were shining and green.
Among these stolen horses
There was a horse of Kobikty himself.
Like feathered inhabitants of nests,
He spread his mighty tail.
It was quick-footed, wing footed
Apparently, it was breed on time,
It looked down on the world!
Smelling dust from afar
Raised its head, began to yawn,
With a proud neigh called the owner.
But, realizing that strangers came,
He parted the horses’ herds,
It ran back from the enemies,
To get to the city in soon:
After the wigned feet, gray horse!
The batyrs chased together
Behind the winged, gray horse,
They left and couldn’t catch up it.
And then lowered to the ground
Its mane, its bangs Taiburyl.
It blamed Koblandy in a soul
That the rider rushed to,
And drove his horse ahead of time:
The Taiburyl should have cared for
Forty days and three more days!
Koblandy is now convinced,
That Kortka was right:
Her words were confirmed…
The east turned red and flamed.
The brilliance of the dawn star has faded.
At this time, laid down to rest
Koblandy at the foot of mount.
At this time, the winged and fleet
The gray ran into the city with a roar,
The dust trembled under the horse.
Hearing the sound of its hooves,
Kobikty got angry and says:
«The enemy attacked the horses!»
His face was dark with rage,
The soul became thirsty for revenge.
Kobikty saddled the horse
And on the gray at full speed
He rushed to the mountains foot,
Kobikty galloped with a club,
Similar to a horse’s head.
At the hour when the east blazed,
The morning star has disappeared,
Like a raging mountain stream,
With a cry: «These are my flocks!»,
With a cry: «Get away from my horses!»
And, sparkling with his chain mail,
Kobikty caught up with two batyrs,
To Karaman he said the follows:
“The people have a lead,
Didn’t you think about it?
The earth has a master
Over the horses there is an arbiter,
Over the people there is a ruler, —
Didn’t you think about it?
My horses were on the pasture,
Who are you, who broke into my herd?
The horses were grazing by the lake water –
Who are you, who became the beginning of the trouble?
The horses were grazing on a green meadow —
Who are you, whom I can punish?
Who are you, answer me now,
Who are you, who have disturbed their peace?»
«If you were born a hero,
You will always find a way
whenever and wherever,
Even a villain would be paid with kind
If you are truly good … «
Thinking so, decided Karaman
The courage to show his own:
And threw a spear at Kobikty.
But didn’t help the Great God
Show his courage to Karaman.
That spear with his club,
Similar to a horse’s head
Kobikty like a ball hit it off.
And the enemy set off at a gallop,
He grabbed him by the neck,
Savagely, he twisted him,
Like a puppy squeaks Karaman!
Kobikty, the mighty rider,
Puts him under the knee.
With whom will he fight again?
He brought guile to the rescue,
He decided to capture in a snare
Koblandy, in a dream immersed:
If he wakes up a little – he won’t be able to overcome…
Look, in a nine-layer seine
Was caught by Kobikty the brave man!
Making sure that the enemy is captured,
«Get up!», Kobikty shouted.
Does not want to disturb his sleep,
Batyr Koblandy does not wake up.
How could he even think
To become a victim of such a disaster?
The enemy took the weapon off him,
There was nothing left on him.
He sleeps carelessly and sleep is deep,
The white light is far from him.
A stupid case is to blame for this:
The free falcon was caught in a snare,
He was captured on the land of a stranger!
Koblandy stretched his legs,
Turned over to the right side
Apparently, the warrior is unaware,
That he fell into the enemy’s snare.
Began to break a strong seine,
Five knots untied at once.
To look at Koblan is scary,
He is distraught, ready to cry.
Heavily in anger he breathes,
Apparently, his happiness was lost!
The two daredevil of same age
Kobikty put in irons,
Tied with saddlebow straps,
And drove their horses with his own.
It was a time for the great pray.
Shadows fell on the meadows.
Two batyrs in a foreign country
Were the prey of the enemy.
Khan Kobikty drove to the city.
Before dark he drove the fortress,
He rode along the walls and loopholes,
As if he had come home from hunting,
Two batyrs, like two foxes,
Catched in the thicket of the forest,
Tied with saddlebow straps:
He took a strong revenge on his enemies!
He dismounted at the wall.
On his face visible swelling…
He had a daughter Karlyga,
As a soul, she was dear to him.
White face, upturned nose,
Was bright the look of her gray eyes…
He exclaimed, in a strong voice:
«Karlyga, are you at home now,
Or are you not at home now?
Remember: God’s order is terrible,
We will all be at the underground.
My crooked and curved sword,
will be broken in the battle,
And the soul with passions,
Will finally find peace.
I took two warriors captive:
When you will get married,
You will take them as a dowry,
These two slaves, my daughter.
A blue fly will sit on the eyebrow –
They won’t be able to drive it away.
Make them some crackers,
And put them in prison,
In the stuffy night let them yearn.»
Although she is a woman
Born in this city
Karlyga was noble,
Revered in this country
Bay with yellowish marking horse
she was riding.
She took two batyrs under her arms,
She carried them like two bags,
And made them crackers
Two captured heroes
locked up tightly
So that no one can escape.
Kobikty in the evening gathered
All their people at the feast,
To his son Birshimbay said:
“Koblandy I have tightly bound,
And the Kipchaks are no longer strong.
Go to inform Alshagyr, the khan of the country,
That it’s time to attack
And seize power over the Kipchaks,
That seven generations of revenge
Should break out sooner.
Take as a gift for the happy news
Two girls — Kanikey, Tinikey,
His two beautiful sisters
Two good Kalmyk girls.
Hurry up, my son, hurry up! «
He’s devious mind in his years,
Birshimbay leaves the feast.
Here at full speed he rushes:
For the happy news to Alshagyr
He’ll get two beautiful sisters!
Let him ride, forgetting about the rest,
We will tell about another girl,
Let’s talk about something else.
The beautiful Karlyga helps the prisoners to escape
Karlyga returned home,
She was thoughtful and strict,
And began to remember the past.
Her mother was Kazakh:
Like a loot she was taken.
Taken from kin by the war
As a child and being an orphan,
She became a wife of Kobikty.
When her death hour has come
Just before the spirit her faded
To Karlyga she said:
“If you were born by me,
You must marry a Kazakh man, —
In your soul keep my testament. «
Although the mother was a woman, —
She had a heroic personality.
Maternal dying testament
in Karlyga’s soul preserved.
Shone like an inner light …
Karlyge in a few days
Wanted to look at the prisoners.
Koblandy appeared before her –
And her chest was filled with trembling:
The power of the ancestors was alive in him,
The fearlessness of a lion was boiling in him.
And, by his loveliness embarrassed,
Kobikty’s daughter was confused,
She couldn’t take a step forward.
What kind of power burned her?
Karlyga returned home.
A knot has been tied in her soul,
It is impossible to untangle it by herself!
Sweet oppression fell on her heart,
Isn’t it really oppression?
With Koblandy she fell in love!
She couldn’t sit in one place in the house,
She is languishing, sighing and sad,
Only the prisoner’ features she reminds,
Kobikty’s daughter will burst into tears.
…Quietly she went out of the house.
Her road is difficult today.
Here she goes through the narrow streets,
A turn, after another turn,
Here are two friends sitting in a dungeon.
The heroes are surprised,
They can not understand: «Is this the light of dawn?
But now it’s not sunrise, it’s sunset time!
They can not understand: » Is this the light of the moon?
It came up from the wrong side!»
Like the day, the dungeon is light:
This is Karlyga, has brought her light!
Karlyga led the conversation:
«Here, in the wild is the green space,
Here the aytatyr grass grows,
Cattle graze on the lawns
Meet spring all living things
Only you, batyrs, are in captivity!
Warlords, are you villains?
What kind of thought have you cherished?
Batyrs, what do you have in mind?
Are you languishing for nothing in prison?
Will you remember Karlyga,
If I help you to escape?
Or, having reached the home side,
You will tell as braggarts,
As if by yourself managed it
And escape from the enemy’s dungeon,
And Karlyga has no deal in it?
My flock was grazing the meadow,
Didn’t you drive the horses?
Karaman answered her:
«I am powerless, I am exhausted,
Even can’t open the lock.
Look at my torments,
Untie my hands,
If you allow me, I will run away,
And will never forget Karlyga!»
Koblandy then says:
«You can run, you faint heart,
Get away from me!
Maybe the bluebird of happiness has left me,
But I’m not crushed yet!
And to you, the oppressor’s daughter.
I also say: I will not run away,
I will first take revenge on the enemy!
No, I’m not a fugitive.
I’ll settle accounts with your father,
My heart for revenge is thirsted!
The lakeside of Kozdi, in summer,
And Mount Karaspan, in winter.
They are my favorite shelters!
When I was six, I already rode a horse,
When I have reached the age of thirteen
I surprised the world with my courage.
No one is stronger than me!
Kipchak’s sword is my tamga .
But for the enemy my sword carries death,
I have inspired fear among Kyzylbash.
Hearing my name: «Koblandy!»
Stones fell from the mountain ranges,
In the mountains start burning the gorges.
I have had strength in me, since childhood,
For my people I am the stronghold.
Don’t rush, Karlyga,
You don’t know me, nothing about my soul.
I’ll bring you my home, with your uncovered face
I’ll take you away on my horse!
With a poor mother and a senile man,
Am I destined to meet?
I am in sad at the foreign land…
Do you know, Karlyga,
Why I’m in captivity, in prison?
Your father captured me,
At that moment when an unknown spirit
Took away my sight and my hearing,
I fell into a careless sleep.
I did not offer a prayer
to my seven wise forefathers.
and thus I fell into the enemy’s hands.
Otherwise, tell me Karlyga,
Would I suddenly become a prisoner?
Take care, my friend Karaman,
Send my best regards when you got home,
To the babbling brook of spring water
And the meadow, the beautiful grass,
Singing at dawn the nightingales,
To the white-headed mountain Karaspan,
And say hello, too,
To all friends of my infant years
To all old women and old men,
All spearmen and all deadly marksmen,
To hanting birds and catching dogs,
Inclidung eagles and greyhounds,
And fruits dipped in dew!
Well, this light world is great!
To all Kazakhs say my regards,
Tell them not to cry
That I’m all by alone here,
And now I was put into irons.
Oh, my Azuly lakes,
Oh, my high mountains with passes,
Where I had summer pasture,
Where I had winter pasture,
With the herds I roamed,
And with shepherds we stayed for over night!
If there anyone among my people,
Who will go to look for me,
If I fall asleep dead?
And where one can find
A support on the difficult road?
I have no older brother,
I have no younger brother!
Now I have only one sorrow,
That I am far away from my native places.
Would it make me feel better if I said
That Kazakhs are countless?
But I won’t say these words,
As I don’t have a habit of calling for help.
forty arches long arrows
With a golden notch,
Made of pine a bow precious.
And a silver spear —
They are all my belongings.
I am a prisoner of Kyzylbash tribe,
If I would die here,
There is no shroud even,
To cover my body.
I have a companion — Taiburyl.
Who will take care of the horse
In a foreign land of Kyzylbash?
Ninety-year-old Toktar,
My powerless and old father,
Analyk, my grey-haired mother,
Tired of weeping for me.
Karlygash, my dear sister,
Your pain is acute and heavy.
Dear Kortka, your batyr is in captivity,
Will he see his wife again?»
The batyr’s speech was firm.
Karlyga understood then,
That he hates his enemies,
He won’t get out of the dungeon!
She begged in tears.
Both with Karaman they begged him,
That the Kazakh should escape from dungeon,
But Koblandy stood on his own.
«I lifted both of you by the armpits,
And carried here like two sacks,
But today you became more heavier,
I can’t move you, anyway!»
Karaman hit the idea by Karlyga
And he added the follows:
«He is in the deep dungeon
Sat tightly, and by his ancestors forgotten.
Thus, even a whole army of women
Can’t even lift him up».
«Karaman, then said Karlyga,
If life is dear to you,
Hurry to the herds,
Galloping by your horse,
Bring here Taiburyl.
I know exactly what to do.
A faithful horse is the soul of a brave man,
Their hearts beat together.
Karaman, you should tie up joints
of Taiburyl horse,
So that the harness dig in the meat joints
The horse having unusual laceration,
Would let out a shrill yell.
And then, leaving the dungeon,
Koblandy, to save his horse, will run.»
Karlyga hurried home,
to the herds Karaman.
He will sacrifice his life,
To save his friend
who is now a prisoner of war,
and rot in the dungeon!
He got to the herds
Of Kobikty tribe’s countless horses,
He caught and sat on his horse,
And when darkness fell
He rode back to the city on it,
leading Tyburyl by the nose.
By the dungeon, in the darkness of the night,
Karlyga together with Karaman
Tied up Taiburyl tightly in its joints
So that had dug into meat its’ harness.
The horse screamed, echoing the darkness.
The hero Koblan heard
moan and call of his companion-friend.
And could not bear, he broke the chains,
He turned the dungeon into ashes.
And when he became free, he shouted in his heart:
«Kill me if you should.
But, don’t touch my horse!»
Karlyga says to him:
«A flame burns my heart,
I can’t tolerate such fire.
I love you, dear batyr,
And the cramped and wide world
has become a burden for me.
Koblandy, if only together with you
I could leave this world,
I’d be happy with my fate,
And would fulfill my mother’s covenant…
Now listen here, warrior.
Holding your precious spear
Riding on your Buryl horse,
To the herd ride at once,
Steal the horses of different colours.
And if the grey horse will run away from you,
You shouldn’t chase it, dzhigit.
Hope the God will help me from the heights
And I’ll prevent Kobikty
To sat on his grey horse:
Even though I was born a woman,
I’ll take the Khan’s wings to my hands.
Also, trust your friend.
By the way, look at my deeds,
I’ve saved your weapons
I saved it for you,
And mow, follow me.»
Two friends as bright as the moon,
Karlyga led to the barn,
Where she kept their weapons.
She hastened Koblandy to wear
In an expensive armour,
She brought his faithful sword
So, proved that she is a true friend.
She helped him to sat on a horse.
She pledged love to him.
And gave him to touch her hand.
Riding his stately horse
Wearing the armour reliable
Koblandy bade her a fond farewell.
And being protected by his iron
put his spear on his shoulder,
With his faithful friend, his brother.
He rode the way familiar.
Where the bushes quietly rustled,
They saw Kobikty’s herd,
And the two of them stole the herd.
Between two wide lakes,
Named Kuba and Sary,
The grey horse looked over the expanse,
Its ears became sharp,
It spread its tail like a bird,
Its forelock to the stars raised,
and looked at the moon and yawned…
Isn’t this my host galloping here?
It called to its host by neighing,
But saw two enemies,
So, rushed back to the city.
«Let it run away,
We’ll save the others” friends say,
And they didn’t chase after the grey.
Karlyga joins two heroes
Kobikty hears the trample of his horse,
He turned dark with anger, like the night,
By rage his features were distorted,
He shouted: «Karlyga, my daughter,
Where are you and why are you so slow?
Saddle up my horse, right now!»
Karlyga was waiting for these words
and came to her father’s call:
«The patron of horses came back home,
Seems it wants fodder or some water.
Go to sleep, father, don’t be afraid of trouble,
We’ll beat any enemy!»
Putting her father’s suspicions to sleep,
She saddled the bedbug,
with a golden patterned saddle,
The horse’s name was Akmonshak.
She wore a knight’s saddle,
She strapped a sword to her belt,
And decided to put a chain mail
On her girlish slim figure,
On the top she twisted the braid,
And with a nagai hat it covered,
and pushing aside the damp fog,
at dawn she rode away
to follow her glorious companions on the trail.
She took some food on her way,
Only Koblandy she had on her mind…
She caught up with two friends,
That had stolen her father’s herds.
The three riders followed their way
To the rising sun farther to south.
After reaching Sary expanses,
After a difficult half-day heat
The horse Akmonshak was tired,
The step became slow and sluggish.
Akmonshak doesn’t eat, nor drinks,
And it doesn’t want to run forward.
It turned out that there was it’s brother
among the stolen herds,
and it was galloping, anxious.
Raised its forelock to the stars,
Looking around, started yawning,
calling to his owner with a loud neighing,
But suddenly recognized the strangers
And rushed away in complete confusion:
Seems its a very faithful horse.
The riders chased it in threes,
But couldn’t catch up with the horse.
«What will happen now?» – worrying,
Karlyga sighed in longing.
Two heroes said here:
«It is clear that the horse
disappeared in the distance.
Apparently, we can’t catch it,
So, we will continue on our way,
Without the swift horse.»
Here in some remote place
A sandy hill they have reached.
Let them gaze from its height,
Let me tell you here about Kobikty.
A white armour in nine layers he was wearing
That was specially created for fighting.
This steel is thick emough
To turn a rifle, a spear, a sword!
Karlyga says here: — Listen, Koblandy,
This is the only way to defeat the enemy!
Where the belly is covered
With the steel white armour
Four clasps-hooks are missing,
To be blown in the breeze.
If you’re a daredevil leader,
If you’re a real marksman,
Then right in the gut aim your enemy.
If you don’t kill Kobikty
Kobikty will kill both of you!»
Karaman hearing these words
Felt fear in his soul.
But Koblandy sent forward both,
Karaman and Karlyga,
Surrounded by reeds, hills, and marshes,
He was stayed there alone
Koblandy was waiting the enemy…
At this time, like the wind,
Akmonshak’s brother — the winged and swift horse,
reached the city’s gate.
Like the thunder roars its hooves rattle,
Kobikty gets up from sleep,
Calls his daugher Karlyga,
Oh, God! She has run away!
Kobikty became dark like the night,
His soul is ablaze by fierce anger.
He saddled the horse
that seemed like the wind,
took the fodder for one day,
and in his hand he has a club,
the club like a horse’s head!
He said, jumping on his horse:
«I do not know, if I will stay alive,
Or trampling the grass, will fall died.»
As the custom-charter dictates,
He bade farewell to the people,
And at sunrise, early in the morning,
he rode on, faster than a storm,
After the enemy who stole the horses.
As the great hero
Kobikty was known to his people,
He wanted to destroy the enemy.
The east was a blaze of scarlet.
Like a mountain rushing stream,
Its white armour was glittering.
Koblandy on his lonesome,
Saw him from afar.
Rage flared up in him then,
He shouted: «Come here,
You cannot pull from my hands!»
He took a mighty bow in his hands.
And says to himself:
“Has it really gone out
the bright light of my sharp eyes?
Or became weak my hands?
Or I’m at the edge of my doom?
Or maybe the forefathers
that were everywhere and everytime with me,
Don’t want to help me in trouble,
And they want to pass me by?
Or my arrows are not marks now?
Oh, my holy ancestors,
Give me the strength of your hands,
For I have condemned my enemy to death!
Where is my comrade? Where is my friend?
I am alone in my misfortune!»
To his ancestors Koblan called out in such a way.
Into the quiver he stretched out his hand,
Where every steel arrow with a yurt-sized flame
Flared up, can turn to ashes the world!
He took out a sharp arrow
And at his belly aimed it straight,
At the part by Karlyga was described.
From the tight bowstring it released,
Loudly the arrow rang out
And of astonishing sharpness,
It sliced in two
Mighty-bodied Kobikty.
Two legs left sticking on the saddle
and can’t fall down,
together with the arrow to the ground.
Flew off the upper part.
To his fate is grateful, Koblandy:
The ancestors heeded his fervent plea,
To defeat the brave man!
But, lying in blood and dust,
Rejecting the power of death,
Kyzylbash’s upper part
stretches out his hands to his club.
But In vain: power burned to the ground.
Koblandy came near to the head,
It is death that has come to Kobikty!
“There is a proverb with deep meaning:
«A daughter is a war, is an enemy»,
I recognize the ancient wisdom.”
Says the prostrate one —
Kobikty, in battle defeated.
He wants to pull out his beard,
No one to help, but he wants to shout?
And he would run away, he’s legless, also…
Finally, Koblandy helped him
To throw off suffering:
With a sword beheaded him.
In such a way died Kyzylbash’s brave man.
That’s how a daughter,
was a downfall for her father,
She disavowed her family forever
Because she was young,
And fell in love with the enemy,
She plunged her father’s house into trouble.
As Karlyga is waiting for the winner
Koblandy rode forward,
The enemy’s horse by the bridle lead.
Kobikty’s daughter must be happy,
Seems she has no other dream —
Only to be with him from now on,
To live together and together to die.
In the mountain greenery,
at the hum of a spring,
and all along the way ther were ravines, ridges,
And hills, crevices of rocks.
By the thickets of reeds
Karaman batyr was waiting them.
On their arrival he exclaimed:
«This is the law:
The wise wins the conversation,
The bravewins the battle.
You, Koblan, like a brother to me.
We are the same age as you.
Share the loot with me,
Give it to me, leave it to me!»
Koblandy says in response:
«We already even up our years,
For me, you are a sweet fruit,
Or maybe, you are sugar and honey.
Kobikty’s horses are countless,
You can take as much as you want,
My brother, there is no need a share-out.»
Karaman says here:
«I did not fight with the enemy again,
But I know that it’s saint
for you the hero’s custom,
And you’ll reward me with loot of war
You’ll reward me with glory.
But together with horses, my brother,
Also, give me Kobikty’s daughter.»
The young rider said:
“The horse Taiburyl is under me,
It is bred by Kortka and it’s swift,
As a soul, Kortka is dear to me.
If Taiburyl hadn’t helped me,
I could not defeat the enemy.
I’m thirteen now,
And over these years my clan
Many troubles and sorrows has endured,
And suffered a lot of hardship
From the fierce Kobikty.
Now I can breathe easy.
Look at Karlyga:
Where is her country, home and family?
She left everything for me!
I value her as a friend,
Great is her merit:
If Karlyga wasn’t cunning,
I could not defeat the enemy.
I tell you, here, my will:
I trust in the power of her mind.
If she wills it herself and wants it,
I’ll give you Karlyga.»
Karaman took her by the hand,
Pulled her to him and said:
«If a peer agrees,
then I would like to be with you,
That is a good sign,
Our friendship we’ll strengthen.”
They wait some while under daytime sun,
Three of them were consulting,
and rode on their way,
Chasing their horses before them.
A few days passed
They reached the Kiyat army,
Who were herding Kazan’s stolen cattle.
The army wants to migrate,
Only two peers were waiting.
The sky has turned red, the sky in the flame,
Taiburyl has stopped, none even moving,
As if it sensed something wrong, or became weakened.
Koblandy began to cry like a slave:
Crouching, bereft of strength,
Buryl’s front legs began to limp,
And stands, the army does not move.
The evening shades
fell upon the vastness.
They reached Aksay by some means,
Decided to spend the night,
And move out at midnight.
In the meadow they pitched their tents.
Karaman took Karlyga by hands,
As if he was worthy of praise,
As if he was worthy of all the loot!
Here the crowd of arrogant kiyats
That were greedy and foolish,
among the grasses laid a carpet,
in their arms lifted up Karaman,
and on the carpet sat him down,
to talk some about the war.
And Koblan, who was born of a lion,
No one called to the carpet,
And to Koblan, who was born of a lion,
No one helped or hold his horse:
The impudent warriors of the Kiyat tribe
Don’t look at him at all.
A midnight star flashed on its light,
The Kiyat warriors decided
to move away without Koblandy.
Koblandy, the intimidator of the troops,
was left alone there with pitched tent,
with only a lame horse near him.
The kiyat people galloped home,
Take away the loot in a hurry.
There is a fire in Koblan’s soul,
There is no peer-friend on the way,
He is pierced to the bone with resentment,
began to cry, overcome with longing:
How loneliness is hard!
Karaman forgot about him,
Having seen the numerous kiyat warriors.
Koblandy with his longing
Forgotten on the road!
Koblandy learns about the misfortune of his native village
The lonely rider says:
«Isn’t it a cruel blow for me?
The one, who is good — goes forward,
The one, who is bad — goes nowhere.
Of the loot gained in the war a lot,
I got nothing now,
As the kiyat tribe owns all it.
I am a madman indeed,
Seems I was born a fool:
Why did I go on this trip alone?
Why did not I call from Kipchak,
Anyone to follow?
I should have taken ten comrades
Or at least five of them,
In general if I feet a wrath,
I would destroy an entire army!
When I get home I’ll be drowning:
Where is my vast expanse?
Now, in the vastness, I am sad and lonely:
Home, my sweet home, you’re far from me!
Am I going to wander alone,
until the my last day?
I have no older brother,
to support me on my way.
I have no younger brother
So I could lead him by me.
It would do me no good,
Even if I would scream loud,
That there are numerous of Kazakhs:
Loneliness is my destiny!
If I die in my wanderings,
If my torment ends,
To my wealth and good fortune
The enemy will stretch out hands.
Will I ever see
my aged father and mother?
Oh, Lord, I pray you:
Thou shalt show me the dawn tonight,
Don’t forget your servant,
Let my fate be sealed.
Have you turned away from me?
Then do your will quickly,
Then don’t let me to see the dawn,
the beginning of a new day!»
Koblandy saying these words,
By the glow of the midnight star
Dismounted his horse.
The batyr bowed his head,
It’s heavy in his heart.
Saddle blanket he used for a bed,
Used a saddle as a pillow,
He fell down on his bed,
He sobbed in the silence of the night.
— Who will hear the hero?
He fell asleep with tears in his eyes.
And now the morning dawn
appeared in the heavens,
Fluttering on the dewy ground,
duddenly appeared on a gray donkey
A bright old man, full of wit.
The turban above his head is white,
He wields a magic wand.
He is the one who fights against evil,
He is the ancestors’ sacred spirit!
One can hear the silence of dawn:
«Koblandy, are you asleep or awake?
The rumour of you is still going on,
The people yearn for you.
Your campaign was a failure,
Your victories were of no avail.
I have followed you,
To ward off your misfortunes,
The flaps of my golden coat
were worn out on difficult trails.
Your trail smelled of bitter smoke.
Yesterday, in the midday heat,
I met Toktar decrepit.
Your father is dressed in rags,
In a torn coat down to his knees.
He has known everything
About being in captivity by Kyzylbash,
He became a beggar in his old age.
He has worn out his soles,
So, Toktar now a shepherd homeless.
Analyk, your old mother,
Started pulling wool for the hosts,
that has condemned to slavery the old woman.
Analyk is grazing lambs.
And made cottage cheese for the hosts.
She was bent to the ground,
And your sister Karlygash,
In that land where reigns Kyzylbash,
now serves tea for the lords,
She fills five bowls at once,
Always a towel in her hand,
Tied an apron around her waist…
I’ll tell you about Kortka:
Alshagyr, the Kalmyk Khan
wants to marry her and made Kortka
as his wife.
He has won the unequal struggle,
And a stronghold with sharp towers,
He has built at the foot of the mountain.
By Alshagir your aul has been captured
your paternal home he has destroyed.
Look at you: are you healthy,
And you are learning the world in your wanderings,
But you gave the Kipchaks to your enemies.
Will you be happy yourself,
If your people are suffering,
If sorrow oppresses your homeland?
To throw off the yoke from her shoulders,
Show your strength to the enemy,
Don’t think I’m lying to you:
You’ve heard the speech of the forefathers!»
Then the batyr awoke, stunned,
A dream flew from his eyes.
He saw burning in the sky
the bright glow of the dawn star.
He saw it and burst into tears.
How could Koblandy not weep,
When about Kortka he thought?
Who is languished in captivity, in anguish,
Also he remembered his people,
that suffer under the enemy’s yoke!
Buryl that began to limp,
Seems felt by the soul of the racehorse,
That is in captivity the homeland,
So its grievous affliction has passed,
For its ancestors’ sacred spirit
That gave news about the homeland.
Was beating hotly the horse’s heart,
Like a kulan it began to frolick.
Karlyga, as Koblan fell asleep,
untied his steed.
Even though she’s a young woman,
she is wise it turned out!
Together with her swift Akmonshak,
Taiburyl, she started to herd,
among the feather-grass and wormwood.
How to rescue people from captivity?
Weeping and groaning native land.
Koblandy was struggling to walk,
For the warrior every step was too hard.
Finally, Karlyga he met,
She was in the meadow and in tears said:
«The enemy has seized my homeland,
My people have been bent to the ground,
My village into ashes he turned.
Alshagyr, is a noble Kalmyk,
At the foot of the golden mountain
He has now erected a fortress of stone.
The ancient forefathers’ holy spirit
with this message has suddenly appeared.
For sure, there is no deceit here!
Seems, no friend in my distress to help me:
I cannot see Karaman here, too!
Even though you were born a wife,
We already even up our years
I wish, share my sorrow with you.
I give half of it to you.
Stay safe and be happy,
I’m going on my way without a friend,
Going to my people,
That in Kalmyk’s captivity have grown weary.
If God will help me in battle,
I will dispel the misfortune alone.»
Karlyga then says:
«Would a brave dzhigit
be lost in the hour of need?
Can the foe having taken up arms,
Forever grab the country,
that people languish in captivity?
I have left my home,
Koblandy, with only one hope,
That I would be your wife,
But my fate is different
And my longing has no end.
I ruined my father for you,
So shall I feel pity for my soul?
If your people in suffer,
If in grief your land,
Do not delay, ride forward.
By morning, hope to reach Karaman:
If he wants this march to join,
I’ll gather all Kiyat warriors myself.
But, if I get a refusal,
I’ll come at noon hour.
So, see you tomorrow.»
Having heard this wise speech,
The warrior got ready to fight.
He fastened a sword to his belt,
He put on a thick armour.
Taiburyl, who was
Like a clear winged falcon,
He drove to Mount Karaspan,
Pushing aside the dawn fog.
The horse that doesn’t stand the hot and heat,
And overtaking the whirlwind on the fly,
Koblan hit on the thigh,
Beat its stomach with a whip
So that the blood fell with foam.
Taiburyl, like a bird, is winged.
Only the sunset lay on the ground,
Koblandy was again
On his Kipchak land.
Before batyr appeared the native village.
Buryl inhaled the sweet smell
And suddenly fell down.
The dashing horseman quickly dismounted
And he felt the ground with his hand.
It is a pity that Buryl is a horse.
But don’t think of it as an animal:
This horse is smarter than a man!
Where there was a golden barn,
Where the young shearling
By Kortka twice a day was fed,
Like a mother was gentle and kind,
That’s where Taiburyl fell down!
Where there were trees all around,
Where the river rumbled
In the impregnable crevices of the rocks,
Where the village once was,
Where a horse fell beneath a batyr,
Where a spring under a plane-tree murmured,
Surrounded by fragrant grass,
The batyr lay down to rest.
Saddle blanket he used for a bed,
Used a saddle as a pillow,
But he couldn’t lie still.
On the land,where he had winter pasture,
On the land,where he had summer pasture,
He wept all alone,
He longed for his human housing,
He grieved for his people.
Early in the morning the east flashed.
He looked up the mountains with passes,
Where he once roamed herds,
And with shepherds stayed for over night.
In this distance that has become brighter,
He gazes up at it with wet eyes.
There is a camp, but no people,
There is a swamp, but no lakes.
Koblandy comes to his homeland
The sky in the flame, the sky has turned red
The hero rides forward.
He says to his horse at a gallop:
«We’ll break Kortka from bonds,
My fellow, fly like an eagle!»
Here comes Lake Ainakol
And Kortka’s village tents.
No people: only reeds…
Even though he was born a batyr,
Even though in his grief he was strong,
Koblandy couldn’t help himself,
He cried, filled with longing…
Oh, isn’t this the familiar threshold?
What’s left of Kortka’s yurt?
Only the hearth, full of ashes.
Koblandy raked up that ash,
And found food supplies.
Koktim’s daughter, the fierce enemy
At the hour when was about
to take away everything in a blue carriage,
Koblandy’s young wife,
A bright wit born,
Put some food in the hearth:
She left nothing else
As had no time to hide on that day,
Saying, «Let him find it, let him have some food,
When she reaches his birthplace».
Koblandy, all by alone,
Broke off a piece of bread,
In his korzhun put the rest.
And Taiburyl rode on ahead,
It turned stones into sand,
The hooves did not touch the ground.
It opened a mouth wide,
And the birds were afraid,
To get lost in its dust.
Here the shadows of the night,
And the horse, in the silence of the night,
suddenly fell down on the grass
Koblandy descended from Taiburyl,
He started groping the ground and found
Under the horse, an arshin high,
A wonderful golden stake:
This was a sign to her husband
By the young, unhappy wife,
That on this road the enemy —
Koktim’s daughter, taken her into slavery.
The bright, shining golden stake
Koblandy put in the korzhun,
And the horse galloped onward.
Koblandy batyr at dawn
Rode to the golden mountain,
By which the fortress was erected
Of Alshagyr, a noble Kalmyk.
Says Koblandy here: «I will help
To all who were captured by the enemy,
I’ll save my poor people!»
Koblandy toured the fortress twice
and nowhere found a gate.
The vault of heaven was ablaze,
But the batyr still can’t find,
Any gate to fulfill his vengeance,
Even a slot to get into the city.
Suddenly he heard the sorrowful voice,
Suddenly he felt a thump in his heart:
It was weeping old Toktar.
But who was he weeping for?
He wept for his only son,
Whose footsteps are lost in the world.
Koblandy heard follows:
«Among the camels that herding together,
There is one incomparable camel.
My incomparable Koblandy,
Where are you, my little colt?
Among a lot mismatched horses,
There is a winged one that is stronger than others.
You were also winged, Koblandy,
Where are you, my dear foal?
Falcons are flying, soaring together,
Only one is rich in courage.
You were brave, Koblandy,
Where are you, my little falcon?
Among the lambs that tread the meadows,
There’s one whose horns are like a moon.
My only son, Koblandy,
Where are you now, my lamb?
The bulls are asleep and have humbled their temper,
Only one is mighty and stubborn.
The restless and gray bull,
Where are you now, my calf?
How much sorrow I have had,
How many hot tears I have shed,
But there’s no relief from them.
I am now dressed in rags,
A coat given to me by the enemy,
That doesn’t cover event my knees.
I’d rather fall under a sword fearsome
Than to be captured by a powerless man!
I curse thee, Alshagir,
You have shown us your power,
But I know that the attack is passing,
The deceptive world is changeable.
Wait, kyzylbash, wait a bit,
The coming day is still ahead!
If my only son is alive,
He’ll come, winged one, to you,
He’ll come with payback to you!
Koblandy, the light of my eyes!
Ninety years old I am, now.
Look, your old father
became a slave and tends sheep.
Oh, will slavery come to an end?
I have you alone, I have only you,
Will you come, my beloved son
to restore freedom to Tocktar?
To return the will of the people?»
The old man fell silent with a bitter groan.
Here Analyk wakes up from her sleep,
The gray-haired, weak mother,
got up and began to cry:
«Do not weep, my Toktar, my husband,
Will the weeping make sorrow pass away?
Keep quite, let me also tell my sorrow.
Oh, how spacious it was around
In the days when Koblandy was near us!
Oh, Toktar, my husband, my dear one,
How light were at that time
My golden shoes!
Life seemed to me an everlasting spring,
As the Seven Gardens of Paradise…
I dreamed that the night wind was blowing,
I heard the sound of wings,
That Taiburyl is flying, it’s wings noise!
Toktar, lift up your eyes:
This wind is from Mecca, Toktar!
Our only son is galloping back,
He sends us tigings, very glad:
Are there four clouds?
The boy’s father-in-law gave them to him.
He said, rich in intelligence:
«On a summer’s day they will come from the east,
In winter they will come from the north,
And when the enemy attacks,
About the enemy they will announce.»
Koblandy, the pillar of the earth,
Come back, light of my eyes!
Look, here are your clouds,
And you’re not here yet, not yet!
In the days when my son was near me,
I was wearing a brocade beshmet,
And I wore a silver skullcap painted,
A round golden cap
with a waving feather.
In the days when Koblandy was near me,
On a splendidly decked horse
I traveled in our mountains,
I glittered at the noisy feasts,
Dressed in silk and satin,
But my one and only son is gone
And the trouble happened to me.
Oh, the river Zhayik,
You are muddy and wild,
Oh, my eyes are bleeding!
My Toktar, your soul is pure,
Look at me, my old man.
My right eyebrow is twitching.
My lips are trembling,
So, it means in soon
I’ll be kissing our child again.
See, my shoulders are trembling,
It means that soon to Mount Karaspan
Will move out our caravan,
And I’ll wear the satin again.
See, my legs are trembling,
It means that in a good hour
Will back the Kipchak tribe,
to live on the native side,
And then I’ll ride forward
On a splendidly decked horse.
Look, look, my old man,
My caked breasts
filled again, like a spring.
What do you say to this, my people?
It’s time for milk suckling again
By my son who’s gone far away!
Koblandy, the light of my eyes,
To the mourner turn your gaze!
I am sixty years old,
And what a shame for me,
My lamb, my little boy:
I’m twisting a strong harness for the khan,
Making cottage cheese,
And combing the wool for the lords…
My spirit is worn out with shame,
And your honor is being trampled on!
Alshagir holds us in captive
Behind the high fortress wall,
He also captured your young wife
Wants to marry her and make his wife.
How long will our enemies torment us?
Help Kortka, help her and help us,
Start a war over the Kalmyks!
Why are you wandering in vain?
You should to raise the sword of vengeance!
Do you hear your native land’s voice?
Do you hear my son, how your mother cries?
Hateful oppression is unbearable.
Let my weeping reach you!»
Here says his sister:
«Dear mother, don’t cry, wait,
What will come true is ahead.
Is coming our time to act.
I have dreamed of a wonder.
That axe, with steel of sharp,
made a cut in the granite,
and suddenly became blunt.
I took it to the sharpener,
Restored back its strength,
And now it’s ready for fight:
This is the message that gave me
Our forefathers in a prophetic dream.
I hear the hoofs rattling,
My heart hears that my dear brother
on horseback is approaching!»
Says Kortka in confusion:
«How fate is cruel to me!
Moonlight over Karaspan Mount,
My falcon is in flight.
Far away is my Sultan,
And my cry will not reach him,
won’t hear his wife, my falson.
He won’t know that in captivity she’s crying.
The mountain is rich in streams.
Where the argalis freely jumps and plays.
How mighty is your batyr’s stature,
My husband, my sultan, my batyr!
Who are we? Women, whose hem is long:
God crated us like this.
Oh, the high mountains with passes,
My childhood flew here!
If my white body,
the one kissed only you,
will give it to the enemy without a fight,
so that I will wither in a stranger’s yurt?
If I can be a wife
to a irreligious with a worthless soul?
If the mare losts its foal,
that was a suckling.
So it will be an assault on her,
that a three-year-old colt
was allowed to that mare’s teats.
If the mare camel, lost it’s colt
So it will be an assault on her,
If a mature male
is suddenly was allowed to her teats.
The one will also commit violence
when finds a room for the raven,
Where a falcon sits on a pole.
Only God knows my shame and disgrace,
Am I really going to become a wife
To the stranger who owns me?
Where are you, proud steed Taiburyl?
Like a child, you were dear to me,
But you have forgotten your duty as a horse,
You’ve strayed far from me.
I’ve cherished you since your early days
Like a child of my own, took care of you
So, that you would not fall among the rocks,
I helped you, Taiburyl,
I gave you golden horseshoes.
Remember the first forty days?
In those places where greener the grass,
When I found the young mares,
With the milk of mischievous,
I gave you a drink, Tyburyl.
And when ninety days have passed,
To make you the strongest of horses,
That you don’t fall asleep,
That you don’t fall in the dust of the road,
To be the swift-footed warhorse,
Ive prepared a medicinal herb
to strengthen you, Tyburyl.
People were talking all around,
That Kortka was nursing
The incomparable sucker.
So, with a good milk nourished,
You became a three-year-old shearer.
How could you give back to me such a way?
Did you take care of me?
When you’ve become a five years old.
you wanted long for,
I understood your concern,
And led five mares to you.
I praised you without limits,
And I praised you justly.
I have led thee in a silk harness
of a five arches long,
So you have a neck strong.
You were a naughty little colt,
I taught you courage,
I tamed you when you were stubborn.
I caressed you like a mother,
So, you’ve become famous everywhere.
Why don’t you want to tell me?
How far have you gone?
To make Kortka glad,
You’re at least from afar
Show yourself for a while,
So that my batyr, my sultan
Could appear before my eyes.
I cherish the dream in my soul:
That my sultan, mighty and bright,
With fierce vengeance
will come to the enemy,
And for everything, the oppressor Kalmyk
will get vengeance in full from him.
Only this dream that makes strong
Koblandy’s young wife!»
Koblandy meets Kortka
Young Kortka’s mournful voice
The heavens have blown
Over the expanses of the poor land.
Taiburyl in the forest clearing
Heard the sorrowful call:
This is the call of mther her child!
Torning the ground under her,
It began to roar loudly and longingly.
So that it’s a tearful neigh,
The breeze carried to Kortka.
The longing left her heart.
«My sultan has come, my dear is here!»
And saying these Kortka…
From the high fortress wall
She saw from afar:
Koblandy was behind the wall,
Batyr’s lion’s gaze was sad.
He stands on the forest glade,
Not roasted, not scorched,
Eating the bustard he killed
The bones fall on the grass.
Kortka’s beauty has blossomed,
Kortka has a falcon’s stature.
She came to Alshagir,
To say follows:
«You have conquered our country,
You keep the Kipchaks in captive,
But beware: the heavens will execute
A dog like you!
Someway you knew that my husband left,
And children and old women have atacked,
You came upon us like a blizzard,
Destroying the defenseless and weak.
If my sultan were at home,
I would not look upon you!
You’ve taken me to your city,
Like a prison you’ve locked me up,
And I’ve put up with your outrage,
I don’t see the light of day.
Just once, would you let me
To take a walk behind the castle wall,
Just once on a meadow to stand,
Breathe in the cool of the forest!
I’ll take the striped bag,
I’ll tie a harness around my waist,
I’ll go to the green meadow,
I’ll walk behind the wall,
Maybe I’ll pick up some dung.»
Alshagir was brave and smart,
He was a real daredevil!
He was delighted
with Kortka’s beautiness
He couldn’t refuse her request
For in his heart the hope he kept
That Kortka would be his wife.
So he said: «I’m not strict with you,
You can go for a walk short time,
Have breathe in the coolness of the forest.»
Koktim’s daughter took the bag,
She tied a harness around Kortka’s waist.
The Kalmyk Khan was afraid,
That when it gets darker,
Kortka can run away along the forest paths,
So he ordered two follow her
Two maids and two slaves.
The captive comes out of the gate.
She was so hurried and running forward,
That her guards lag behind.
Then Kortka takes out the bag
And puts it on her belly, under her dress,
But she rolls it up four times.
Here comes the forest before her,
the path goes into the darkness.
Where to the birch trunk
The horse Taiburyl was tied up.
Grasses under it is dugging up,
Taibutryl can’t stand still.
Seems as Kortka is appeared in the distance!
Like a child who has found his mother,
Towards Kortka it rushes,
tearing up the reins.
Koblandy ran after the horse,
Fearing that in the forest wilderness
It’ll be lost, or any other case!
The lady, when saw the horse,
Undid ten buttons on her chest
trembling with happiness.
Taiburyl ran up to Kortka
And in a swift and hot jerk
bumped its head into her breast,
And fell down the warhorse.
And Koblan came running up
And saw his desired wife’s
Inclined and resilient waist.
Before Kortka, in the silence of the forest,
He appeared, mighty and handsome.
According to custom with arms crossed,
The wife bowed before her husband,
And says to him full of happiness:
«You came back, my beloved, to me:
First was the horse, and later the rider.
You sat with a banner on your horse,
So, you chosen the fair way.
If you were leaving people,
Then an evil misfortune bent them,
If you came to people,
Then a star of happiness shone for them.
My falcon, leader of the people,
Did you come here with good fortune?
I have guarded the enemy’s hearth,
I entered the enemy’s house,
On his chestnut steed I rode,
I cursed my fate,
I harnessed my enemy’s cart,
My Koblan, my sultan, my kinsman,
What will you do to your sinful wife?
May the evil slanderer perish!
My husband was in a foreign land,
And I was forced by a Kalmyk,
I found no support around me,
I obeyed him like a servant:
I have born a child from the enemy.
My Koblan, my sultan, my kinsman,
What will you do to your sinful wife?»
Says Koblandy in responce:
«Where are my old days?
The shearer will have misfortune,
Having left its herd.
Did you bring one, my wife?
May your child live long.
Even if you had brought a thousand.
I will not bear you a grudge.
It’s been a hard journey for me:
I learned not only separation.
But, known wrench of loneliness!
Let your child grow up,
my future stronghold — in battles!»
And again Kortka was convinced,
That Kobland is a man of good morales,
That he is clean:
He had no words of occusation for her!
And then she took out
Under her dress the rolled up bag,
That enlarged her belly.
And smiled with white-toothed mouth,
A chuckle flashed in her eyes:
«Beat it, you striped bag!»
The mighty Koblan laughed,
He recognised the cheat at once,
He had the greatest respect to his wife,
So he was sure that she has no guilty.
He said: «My fate is hard,
Very long I’ve stayed in a foreign land.
Your husband came to you
With a sad soul.
But I found you in captivity
And very saddened.
Here I praise the happy moment
I have achieved my cherished dream.
How I longed to see
My people, my father and mother,
And you too, my dear wife,
So beautiful, kind and smart,
But, sometimes it seemed to me
That I will never see all of you…
Oh, dear wife, come to me,
Come closer, my dear beauty,
You are my destiny,
Let me great you warm!»
A languid and full of fire,
Koblandy in broad daylight
Hugged his Kortka so tight.
That the beauty’s waist almost cracked.
So hard and warm Koblan hugged her.
Here Kortka says to her man:
«Be patient, come down, my Sultan!
You have known the wrench of loneliness,
You haven’t been in bed for a long time,
Your heart’s with passion burning.
My Sultan, you’ve so many enemies,
But, only a few friends
Don’t waste your strength, your power!
Tell me, were is your older brother?
Tell me, were is your younger brother?
I believe that the day will come,
You’ll tear the people out of captivity.
What if you suddenly get into discuss
Or start a humorous talk,
And then a fool, a slanderer,
Who has a bitter tongue,
will say poisonous words:
«When he came back, he did not seek
Not his father, nor his feeble mother,
But he sought his wife at first!»
Is this not a shame and a disgrace?»
Koblandy says in response:
«A true friend never lies.
The one who a fox’s coat wears
Never afraid of frosts or blizzards.
If you were born a shah into the world,
— You’d be the smartest shah on earth!
There’s a lot of meaning in your words.
You have very beautiful stature,
It’s a pity you were born a woman,
You have to make peace with it.
And if you were born a man into the world
The whole country, you would rule!
I have no comrade-in-arms,
No sidekick by my side,
But even being in singular
I am equal to the multitude!
Having suffered so much in my journey,
How glad I am here be with you,
I’m a lion, longing about my lioness,
I came to you, my dear!
I wondered if you’d suddenly say:
«Long-awaited, desired spouse
didn’t even let Kortka to see
that he was burning and languishing in longing,
And went away, as cold as ice…»
Oh, Kortka, I have ceased to suffer!
I didn’t know if I’d see again
My people , my wife, my parents.
Tomorrow, tking the formidable sword
and wearing my armor,
that Daut-prophet made,
on Buryl horse I’ll ride,
even though I am alone,
and will go into battle,
against the enemy that captured you:
The hour of salvation is at hand.
Let the Kipchaks, my kin,
That long awaited this day,
On this night won’t sleep for a moment:
From their shameful fetters will break out.
Let the people be ready for the fight.
Let Kipchaks in the dense forest
cut down a cudgel for themselves,
I’ll save the people from captivity.
Early in the morning I’ll call the cry.
Whoever wants a victory,
Let come closer to me,
Waiting for me at the iron gate.
I have come from afar,
I’m looking for an army of hostile,
Well, and you, dear Kortka,
Shouldn’t walk so long.
It’s time for you to go back,
There are in captivity my sister
Also, my mother and father.
Perhaps you have forgotten them?
Alshagir, who is full of sin,
will torment my kin:
saying «Why is your daughter-in-law so late?»
Oh Kortka, the light of my eyes,
What are you waiting for?
Go back, right now!
To the elderly my best regards
And brighten up the youth.
Tell them all: «Your Sultan has come with war
He has come the enemy to attack,
To tear you out from shackles.
He is sitting behind the fortress wall.
Tell them all: for his kin people
He is willing to sacrifice his life.
Tell them all: he is just.
he will call the cry, tomorrow,
and will start the real battle,
for now Kortka,
Stay safe, God bless you.»
Kortka answers the batyr:
«After a long separation,
Is so short our meeting!
I will obey you in everything.
You said: «Go back!»
So, I will go back.
Your hand is merciless,
Tomorrow the Kalmyk army will be defeated,
But, please face me for a moment,
I’ll kiss you, and then I’ll leave.
Our good alliance is strengthened by the God.
If tomorrow comes your end,
I will perish, I will be lost,
I will not bear such misfortune!»
Koblandy turned to her,
Pure and bright Kortka,
with a kiss burned him.
Kortka hurried back,
She was same strong from love, and weak.
And two maids and two slaves
were hurrying to the city after her.
At the wall, under the high mountain,
Her words were heard:
«Why are you sleeping, the head of guardians?
Open the gates at once!»
Kortka has made them all happy…
The young and the old,
The brave youth, women, children:
«Koblandy is near at the gate!»
This news stirred the people up,
The Kipchak tribe was excited,
The bent Toktar heavy sobbed,
They said both young and old:
«Koblandy help you, you lord,
To defeat the oppressors!
To deal a mortal blow on them!»
Karaman renounces his rights to Karlyga
At that time the mighty Koblan
On the high mound climbed:
What dust in the distance, there appeared?
He saw in the heavy dust
A golden zishagee is shining,
this was on the horse Akmonshak,
so bright like a lightning,
Karlyga was riding!
And behind her in the dense grass
Seyil’s son Karaman was rushing,
And behind him on a red horse,
As on a light and fast fire,
A rider, whose name is Orak, was riding.
The famous enemy of Kyzylbash,
He learned that the Kipchak tribe
was being held captive by Kalmyk,
and he rushed off on his march alone!
His face like the moon,
And his axe is so sharp,
He gives no mercy to his enemy.
He met Karlyga on the road,
And with the giant Karaman
they are like brothers and sister,
Like saigas, the three of them
rushed all together,
And they have one road,
they have the same anxiety,
they all have the same hero’s stature.
Koblandy even didn’t dare to dream,
That their road led to him,
That help was coming to him…
Let the four batyrs,
With a thirst for a righteous fight,
Rejoice their meeting.
We’ll leave our friends for a while,
We’ll talk about something else,
If all who sit in the circle,
are not weary and will listen to us.
We’ll lead the story forward.
Alshagyr was a noble Kalmyk,
His mother was a clever one:
She read many books,
She learned to divine by books.
She made a spell,
She puzzled out, she read through it,
That heroes in four
Will fight for will and honor.
She called her son
And said: «Alshagyr, listen to me,
Whoever wants to find, will find,
Whoever wants to kill, will kill.
This is how the world is created.
Who is there surrounding us?
He is grey-eyed, and his nose is straight,
His face shines brighter than a star
It seems this is Koblandy?
Get up, my son, hurry up!
Who is beside him that strives for battle?
He is grey-eyed and face pitted,
Here he rides around the mound…
Isn’t that Karaman?
Get up, my son, hurry up!
A horse is galloping on the grass.
Isn’t this Akmonshak?
Who has left the hearth and home
With a marten hat on a head?
Bone is our, but meat is the enemy.
Isn’t that Karlyga?
Get up, my son, hurry up!
Frowns his eyebrows – that is batyr’s habit:
Thirsts for his enemies blood.
The red horse cuts through the darkness,
On this horse rides — batyr Orak:
Get up, my son, hurry up!»
Alshagir led the talk:
«Do not hurt with longing my heart!
As we have a sharp tongue,
We use our larynx to calm it.
Therefore, is brave the shooter,
For he has an arrow in his quiver.
Well, what do I need your advice for?
You talk of that which is in really no have,
I am not afraid neither misfortune, nor enmity.
But you say: “Koblandy is here.”
Is there any sense in your talking?
Koblandy, to dust already has turned,
He went and found death
From Kazan and Kobikty.
Though you tell the fortune well,
You’ve lost your insight, I’ll tell!”
Says the old woman in reply:
«He’s back, he’s here, he’s alive.
He rides a warhorse,
And he has sharpened his sword,
To realize the issues of vengeance,
Oh, I’m afraid that your foals
He will mark by his own brand,
And also, I’m afraid he is brave enough,
To mark your sheep by his own brand,
I’m afraid he’s here, he’s back,
He’ll take from you your throne,
Oh, I’m afraid he’ll take also from you
your city and your people,
and, I’m afraid he’ll take your throne
And put on him your chain mail!
With a white bald spot on forehead,
Rushing like a whirlwind on the ground
From the lowlands to the snowy heights,
And also your horse, he will take away
You are as the perennial poplar highest,
Roots deep in the ground,
And the foliage into the blue sky.
So pure of unnecessary impurities,
And with gold every leaf glistens…
And the hallmark on it is visible.
Oh, I’m afraid he’ll break into your house,
and will take from you a brave man
All the treasury that my father saved up!
Have pity on your sisters.
One is the gentle-faced Kanikey,
And we have the noble Tinikey.
He will come and your sisters
Will condemned to shame and disgrace.
A whirlwind is upon you already.
If you want to lie down, go ahead.
But do not go against me.
The gentle-faced Kanikey,
And the noble Tinikey
I won’t give to the enemy,
I’ll take them and run away.
Far away to passes,
I will ride in the heat and the storm,
So that the enemy will not rejoice,
I’ll take them away.»
Oh, the old woman was cunning,
She made up her mind
To get her daughters away from the enemy.
Their beauty blossomed so much
That everyone living around
Wouldn’t let lose the grasp,
And would like to kiss them both…
Oh, the old woman was cunning!
She had no use for the precious luggage,
She didn’t take anything of value,
She took only two daughters.
The gentle-faced Kanikey,
The noble Tinikey,
And the took them away by the carriage,
So, she save them from disgrace?
She rides out of the gate,
Runs off into the wide steppe,
Here Karlyga recognises her!
This girl is a giant
Rides faster than a whirlwind,
And she stealthily approached her.
And cut through the felt, behind,
She took the frightened girls
From the carriage and.
On her horse she drove them away.
And the old woman, sensing no ill will,
and not a bit worried about her children,
She continued on her way.
Karaman was sharp-sighed.
He noticed that two sisters
By Karlyga were captured.
He rushed towards her,
He spoke gently to her:
“Thou hast taken the spoils of the enemy,
So let’s start on with the sharing!»
Karlyga said in response:
«Listen here,
You are only a swamp reed,
You’re a thorn, but without a stem.
If compare you with others,
The world have seen a better one.
I didn’t notice that you’ve shown prowess.
You have no right to ask for shares!
You own a big loot,
But all your flocks and herds
Of the loot taken by someone else!
Did I ride here
On a horse that has wings,
To win the spoils of battle
And share with the poor Kiyat tribe?
What shall I say? What should I do?
After all, myself, I am obedient to fate,
You got me as a prey.
So, I’m unfree!”
Karaman said her follows:
«Give me both sisters,
those who are now in captivity.
And let us end this discuss:
As you will regain your freedom.
But, first give me this ransom
And then, you are free!»
Karlyga was keeping in herself
her love and sorrow
Koblandy, she couldn’t forget.
This secret passion burned her hard,
So, she had no pity for her prey.
She gave to Karaman
The gentle-faced Kanikey,
And the noble Tinikey,
And now free again
Herself and her love!
There were four, now there are six,
And four great heroes,
with a longing for battle,
to stood up for truth and honour,
Were resting on one hill.
Their food is in a saddlebag.
Their horses winged
for the cause of war prepared
The dawn is blazing,
The glitter of the dawn’s star went out,
And the four heroes
Couldn’t sleep a wink.
with Koblandy, Karlyga was in love.
How great was her sorrow
When she had become
Karaman’s prey and a slave!
And now seems her new days
Would deal differently!
With Koblandy they will be dealt.
Her heart tells her fervently:
«The dream will come true, believe me!»
That’s why she’s now
on a shoulder leaning
to her dear friend Koblandy.
No, she never dared to approach him
She never dared to come closer him,
For she was afraid of the shame
That, Karaman has got her!
And now she has her joy:
She has her freedom,
And freedom is a good thing,
She’s free like a bird!
She’s changed her pen!
Here brightly the dawn shone,
The riders their horses mounted.
The chain mail made them stronger,
Swords strengthened their courage.
They are flying to the city gate,
in their eyes anger is burning,
on their swords rage is shining,
And spears on their shoulders.
Karlyga kills her brother
Here is the city, where at the gate
Sentries with swords are standing,
Where is the Kipchak tribe in captivity
Exhausted, overcome with grief,
Where Koblandy’s father and mother,
And his wife and sister
From evening to morning
Inconsolable tears are pouring.
The batyr Koblandy rode closer,
And cried a call, shouting like a mighty camel:
«Come out, right now, Alshagyr,
Koblandy speaks to you
If you are a real batyr,
Come out, Alshagyr, to fight,
But listen to what I say you:
Settle your accounts with life first,
Forget the good and the bad,
Today you’ll meet your fate.
Ride forth on your raven horse
With a white bald spot on forehead
Your end has come.
You put a coat on yourself
That stands against the lead.
Your day has come, your end has come!»
Ever since Batyr Alshagyr
Has become a Khan on his land,
He was ruling by deceit!
He betrayed and deceived
He was the most cunning of all his kin.
And he beheaded
Numerous Kazakh heroes.
Hearing Koblan’s voice,
He became gloomy and convinced,
That his mother was right.
He was in wrath and said,
«If I won’t go,
People will say that Alshagyr
Was afraid of a batyr.”
He put on a steel chain mail,
He girded himself with a sword,
Taking his spear
And his quiver with arrows
He rode on a raven.
At this time, full of strength
And not knowing overcome his wrath,
Koblandy was cutting stones
With his long, sharp spear.
Taiburyl was dashing under him,
Whose eyes glowed with fire
And sparkled as fox eyes.
The grass was in dewdrops,
Reeds were swaying,
And Zhayik rushed on,
wilds also were in confuse
Every batyr said: «I will fight
for my honour and for my life!»
And sweeping up the ashes,
They rode on their horses.
When they met in silence,
they were burn with anger.
They backed away a little,
To cross their lances.
Their horses knees were already bend.
Which of these riders is the strongest?
And who is to be victorious?
Suddenly, a shudder of terror
shake the Kyzylbash side:
they could see the battle from the city.
Suddenly their hope was shattered:
As from the raven horse fell down
The noble Khan Alshagyr!
Koblandy-batyr was furious,
He pierced the enemy with his spear
And, having lifted him up,
Put him back on his horse again.
Blood appeared on his brocade.
He stabbed his spear to the bone
And pulled it back harder,
But cannot take it away!
He pulled the spear again.
There appeared blood on the shaft,
And Alshagir fell off his horse,
He lies on the shore sand!
In this terrible, troubling hour
Two brave men rode up.
They were batyrs — Aganas and Toganas.
Koblandy killed their father,
The Kyzylyer, the pillar of the country,
He was planning to get married soon.
The sons came with a vengeance,
attacked the enemy together, at once
And they struck Koblandy with their spear
So, he almost fell off the horse,
He is now sitting on his side!
But rushing at full gallop
Karlyga, scolding the batyrs,
knocked Aganas off his horse.
Aganas is lying on the ground,
Koblandy back himself to the saddle,
And knocked Toganas off his horse.
Rode closer on his horse, with loadouts jingling.
Aktaylak, the Kyzylbash’s daredevil,
But he was knocked down by the swift Orak.
Another one came rushing out of the city again,
Narkyzyl was his father,
But Karaman brought him down.
Here joined the battle with all four
The black-faced giant Batyr,
He has overcome many warriors,
His head is like a cauldron,
But Karlyga brought him down.
Then the Khan’s servant rushed in,
A giant-sized Kalmyk,
But he fell like a reed,
By Koblandy’s steel sword.
So, one by one, the four of them,
Dealt with the enemy:
No mercy to the enemy,
They mowed them like the grass!
Powerful son of Kobikty-Birshimbay
was sent by his father to this land,
he was a giant of fifteen.
He was dressed in expensive brocade,
He wore a martin hat on his head.
He led the fighters mounted.
He was visiting the city as a bridegroom
For two sisters — Kanikey, Tinikey.
He was stronger and braver
of all Kalmyk heroes.
He heard that timid talk:
«Koblandy has escaped from captivity!»
He saw no harm in it.
He strapped his sword to his belt,
his chain mail he hastened
to put on his heroic body.
He put his spear on his shoulder.
ordered to open for him the gate.
He rode out of the gate.
He says to the four by the gate:
«You have shown your haste.
Because I was late a bit!»
Koblandy, he stabbed with a spear,
Karlyga, he stabbed with a spear,
Karaman stabbed with a spear
And then he stabbed Orak with his spear,
And he rode forward,
After a while he turned back,
At this time on the wall,
on the pillars of the gate
The Kyzylbash people were staring:
Once again he took the spear in his hands,
He attacked his enemies again.
Stabled Karaman with his spear
And then he stabbed Orak,
then he stabbed Karlyga,
And here he stabbed Koblandy,
After Birshimbay galloped forward.
Sweat rolled down his face,
And his strength grows,
He despises the four brave,
He does not consider them as a human!
He turned out is stronger than
The exhausted four bogatyrs,
Whose wounds were bleeding…
Making sure that the only brother
is rich in courage and strength.
Karlyga said to her friends:
«Take my word for it.
A cattle die from a wound.
But man can die, if a another man kills him!
We are from one family,
And I myself will kill my brother.
My father, an eminent khan,
was heavier than me for a batman,
And eight batmans heavier than him
Is my brother Birshimbay.
Even a boar cannot break through him,
So the steel sword won’t cut, too.
No ailments causes to him, either!
But there is a hole, they say,
On the back of his neck on chain mail.
If I would die by him,
Aim the back of his head!»
Even though she is female,
Karlyga was born
As the true bogatyr.
Koblandy believed her in everything,
He stopped her questioning.
Karlyga took off her zishagge,
And took her hair out of braids,
galloped away on Akmonshak horse,
Away from his three friends.
The tulpar is galloping fast,
To Birshimbay his sister approaches,
Came closer and says:
«My dear brother, my dzhigit
You should to learn the full truth from me.
As you left, Birshimbay,
came to us with a war the enemy army,
and began to ravage our city.
Koblandy escaped from prison,
He moved into battle his thick ranks.
Our father met the enemy bravely,
But he found his end in the battle.
Vengeance and courage to fight
flamed up immediately in me,
I have slaughtered my enemies to the ground,
I have saved my countrymen.
Father is dead, daughter is lonely,
Three enemies ran away,
I chased after them
To kill them finally
And my hope was kindled:
The Creator showed me you!
Although you recognized me,
You didn’t turn from your horse.
Means, you are the true brave man!
I am pleased with thee, my brother,
My only one, my dear one!
Hide me from death,
My wounds are burning, I’m longing,
The pain has pierced me to the bone.
Exact revenge upon them for me,
For your sister, to the evil-doers
So I can die then in peace!»
Whose soul shall not tremble in pain,
if a kin soul is suffering?
The soul that burns with wounds,
is especially dear to us…
With her hat off, sobs violently
In front of his brother, Karlyga.
Birshimbay then says:
«Oh, my dear sister,
You are militant and wise,
I didn’t recognize you,
I didn’t know you at once!
I resolved in my heart
To turn my enemies to dust,
I hit with a spear my enemies,
Seems have darkened my eyes.
Come to me, my sister.
Let thy soul be preserved.
I did not recognise you at first!
I will hide you among the rocks,
And then I’ll back to fight
I will kill three of our opponents.»
He went ahead, tall and straight,
And behind his sister followed.
Oh, she’s fearless and cunning!
She looked around,
She her spear raised
And struck her enemy brother —
She struck him on the back of the head.
Birshimbay fell off his horse,
and screamed, groaning in pain:
«Oh, sister, you killed me.
This death will not be forgiven to you
This death will always with you,
Oh, damn you, sister, damn you!»
So, Birshimbay was killed by his sister.
She proved that she is brave in battle,
She proved that she is strict in her heart.
Karlyga was returning to her friends,
And the three of them had to admit
That she is good not only on fer face.
But, she has heroic personality,
And she is flinty-hearted!
God must be on their side:
helped them in the difficult war.
Birshimbay seemed to the three of them
As invincible forever,
But his brother was some weaker,
And his sister was more cunning,
And now the foe lies
Under the feet of the heroes.
Kyzylbash army again attack Koblandy’s village
Koblandy looked around
It became very light,
The happiness to the winner has come!
Just when Birshimbay’s cry fell silent
No Kalmyk followed the batyr
None of Kalmyk came out to fight.
One by one with loaded carriages,
making a ruckus went out of the gates,
The Kipchak tribe – now is free.
Both young and old came out,
Wives, girls, children,
a lot of goods taking away.
the old Toktar were led them by.
Dust rose up very high,
The Yessil river was flooded,
Across the river were laid,
Heavy, freshly trunks cut.
And the Kipchaks going home, making noise,
As a herd of sheep and lambs,
And they all greeting Koblandy:
As has come true their cherished thought
Their will, like a river, has spilled…
Look at how the world is created:
Alshagyr found, what he was sought for.
Many Kazakhs he has destroyed,
They say: As you sow, so shall you reap.
That cursed dog,
to his own people brought
death and destruction.
His people were defeated,
His city is destroyed,
All his many cattle taken away.
This was the day of vengeance,
The Kipchak people are calm,
Even little children are not weeping.
Every prisoner was happy to be free,
Every prisoner was now wealthy,
They were back happily and noisily
To their home, both tribes Kipchak and Kiyat
Koblan was in the people’s honour:
He turned out to be the strongest!
The people were on the way
Ninety and more nine days,
At last, they got at dawn
To the dear Karaspan-mountain.
Here is the beauty of the Azuly lake,
Here is the smell of native dust,
Here are the meadows for horses and sheep,
Here the place, where the wicked stranger —
Alshagyr came from,
And drove them out by force.
Peace and calmness,
Life is more better among Kipchaks’,
A poor has become a rich.
Once again the people are contented,
The people are now the owner of the bounty,
In the meadows, by the river water
They praised Koblandy.
I don’t want to go into a long story,
I’ll tell you the gist of it.
Thirty days of rejoicing have passed,
Forty days of feasting have passed,
Kobland was engaged to Kortka.
We’ll keep these words,
The song lives on in truth alone,
We’ll tell here you about another beauty.
What is Karlyga doing?
Though she served him like a servant,
Though she saved him from the enemy,
I got him out of trouble.
But Koblandy didn’t marry her,
He didn’t hear her plea.
What should she do? Where to go?
How can she find her destiny?
With Karaman, it’s out of the way.
How will Karlyga cope
With her bitter fate, with the burden of adversity?
And the beautiful Karlyga
Learns everything about loneliness.
After she took a grudge by Koblan,
Fixed among the mountains,
In the midst of virgin grasses
An eight-winged white tent,
And started to live there alone,
Saying, «Koblandy, only for you
I have left my father’s home,
All that is close to me, I lost,
I knew too late,
About your gratitude!»
Let Karlyga live in the mountains,
Let by herself lonely heat a hearth,
Let the winged Akmonshak horse
Share with her the burden of cares.
Koblandy calls a council
His strong tribe’s wise people
came together all along,
And decided to Orak
marry the sister Karlygash.
Thirty joyous days have passed
Full of fun and games,
Forty days were spent at the feast.
Finally, Koblandy in the morning
brings Karlygash by her hand
To the golden tent.
He bestowed her with kindness
and sent her away with her husband,
And the caravan left with joy.
Says the bogatyr Karaman:
«Koblandy, my dear friend,
I have betrothed you to Kortka,
I saw your sister off,
Now I’ll choose a way for myself.
And now I’d like to enjoy my life
With two sisters — Kanikey, Tinikey.
Koblandy, I will return home
And I’ll marry two Kalmyk girls,
Alshagyr left them to us.
I’ll have a merry feast,
I invite you both, Koblan and Kortka,
So, prove that our friendship is strong,
That we’ve become more friendly,
even more grateful to each other.
Come to visit me Koblandy,
and marry me with Kanikey and Tinikey!»
A worthy men have good things around,
In their soul a friendship trembles.
Karaman returned home,
He took Kanikey and Tinikey away.
As ninety days passed,
Koblan and Kortka gathered together,
The horses were harnessed to the cart,
They took their way to visit Karaman,
Taking three hundred people with them,
Saying: «It’s time for us to see
How lives a brother and a peer
And friends from the Kiyat family».
They rode long, looking at the mountains.
At midday, in the midst of the mountains
Where the snow white on the ridges,
They see an eight-winged tent,
And Karlyga comes out to them.
Here says Karlyga: » Listen, batyr,
Listen to me, for a while.
For the sake of your life
I’ve sacrificed myself,
And now, lonely and alone.
I don’t know which way to turn.
In the silence of the mountain I weep,
The thin thread of my days is torn out,
Remember my farewell, Koblan!
Where are your promises, Koblan?
What is my guilty? What did I do wrong?
You can ask anyone around you,
And they’d tell you, your act is not good:
and there’s no excuse for it.
Thou shalt rest in my tent
Tell my sister, who’s beside you now,
that she may visit my tent!»
She says so, and the tears flow
tears flow down from her eyes, sad.
Kortka saw here,
That the beauty’s fate was bitter,
She begged her husband
That, he would make happy
Karlyga, who crushed by fate.
But Koblan said: «No way. I can’t»
He was born harsh
And doesn’t accept pitying words,
He left with Kortka at once.
Karlyga, with great longing
Remembering the happened,
the tent with difficulty she reached,
Leaning on the shaft of her spear.
and full of tears in her heart.
And Kortka and Koblan-batyr
Rushed to Karaman for a feast.
The feast lasted twice for thirty days.
And betrothed to Kanikey and Tinikey
Karaman of Kiyat tribe,
And then Koblandy rode back
With his noble wife.
On their way back home
The snowy mountain they saw again,
An eight-winged white tent.
Karlyga comes out to them,
And starts a conversation again:
«I’ve made some strong tea,
Just, don’t pass it by!
I’ll make you a nice meal,
A lonely house is not poor.
Butter, sweet to taste,
I’ll serve on a platter of gold.
Now tell me, you villain:
For what I have left
my country and my people?..
With the blood of my loved ones
I have bloodied the earth…
For whose sake I did it?
Surrounded by silence,
I live in loneliness,
I see only snow and grass.
Why didn’t you take me
to Karaman’s wedding feast?”
Koblandy-batyr was harsh,
He said nothing in reply,
Near the weeping Karlyga
The bogatyr passed by
And went home with his noble wife.
Then listen to continue:
Either a year has passed, or two
Kortka gave a birth
To a son who has no equal in the world!
This boy was look like
As Koblandy — the brave lion.
The little lion grew like weeds,
He’s becoming a lion himself,
And his name is Bokenbay.
Soon he will take a sword in his hands.
Then listen to our story.
Kyzylbash, the hero of Shoshai
Came with an army
To the Kipchak region
He was Kobikty’s nephew,
He has come to pay for death!
The leaves were moistened with dew,
The heavenly firmament was ablaze,
Before the morning dawn
The gleam of the dawn star faded.
It was summertime,
Koblandy was sleeping soundly in his yurt,
The warrior’s sleep was blissful.
Boken went away to the herds,
Suddenly, behind the thick summer herd
Dust rose like a column of smoke.
Then Kortka heard
The horse’s stomping from afar.
It is the enemy advancing again?
The Kyzylbash army poured in,
at the door with spears pushing!
Will the enemy win this time?
What should Kortka do?
Should she wake Koblandy up?
No, she can’t: he would jump out of his skin!
Koblan’s wife hugges,
Puts on her knees
The noble lion’s head,
She whispers soft words,
Waving her red silk handkerchief,
To make the wind blow cold
The warrior shuddered, parted with sleep,
His heart is beating, heart is on fire.
Once more it is time for battle!
He got up and went out of the tent.
he wears a skullcap, he has no hat.
Who is rushing there, disturbing him?
He comes out with a steel spear,
that was near by his bed,
Without dressing gown, in a shirt thin
And a light underwear putting.
Is it dust or smoke?
He cries out, and with his cry
He tears the dust of the earth.
The Kyzylbash men shuddered:
They had a month’s journey left,
To reach Koblan’s yurt,
They can’t wait for the battle,
But barely had that morning cry
Into Kyzylbash’s army penetrated,
It was collapsed like a reed.
Koblandy, the bright-faced said:
«Who will bring the tidings to Boken,
To go out to meet the enemy?
He grazes his horses in the meadow.
That he could fulfill his duty as he should,
and like a wolf, take the enemy by the throat,
and make the enemy howl in pain!»
Taiburyl was standing by the manger.
Suddenly Kortka came by running,
Cautiously leads the horse out,
Covering it with the saddle cloth,
pulls out the saddle and fidgeting,
And weapons to fight with the enemy.
What about Koblan? He was calm:
This warrior was a fearsome lion!
He didn’t believe that the timid foe
could conquer his own fear,
And when, in his military armour,
he mounted his horse,
With a fiery anger scorched,
Strengthened by power of his forefathers,
On the foe that is greedy and cruel,
He came down like a torrent.
The hostile army trembled,
Ran in trembling backwards
From the aul to the foot of the mountain.
The enemy did come, but not for new battles
The enemy did come, is cunning and harsh,
With the black revenge in them, long ago.
The Kazakh was killed by him.
The snow was hanging over his eyes,
And the eyelashes were covered with ice.
He was driven by bloodlust.
Shoshai shouted to the warriors:
«My army, listen to my speech!
Koblandy was laying with his wife,
He was sleeping sweetly, half-naked,
My conscience wouldn’t let me
Kill him in bed, not in the war.
Let him get dressed first,
Let him say prays to his ancestors,
Let his soul be filled with fear.
And only then,
I will cast the dead man to ashes!»
The Kyzylbash army said: «Dear Shoshai,
You decide the matter your own way,
our swords are sharp, we are ready,
we will wait at the foot of the mountain».
The Kyzylbash’s army rallied closer,
They started to boast of their strength,
They spoke about their number.
Each warrior took an arrow:
Soon the blood will flow on the ground.
Karlyga takes revenge on Koblandy-batyr
Koblandy on Buryl
rode to fight with the enemy.
Under the horse, trembling dust,
In front of the horse, trembling enemy.
Batyr Koblandy rode up,
He saw the ranks of Kyzylbash,
Shouted: «Come out, Shoshai Khan,
Try the power of your saber!»
And Shoshai answers him:
«Let me get ready for the fight,
I am not strong enough,
I ask for a delay of three days!»
Koblandy agreed with the enemy,
So that he won’t complain afterwards!
At this time, to the battle place,
Seeing the dust from afar,
Hearing the voice of the hero,
The one, in the secret fire of grief,
All eclipsed by her beauty,
The one whose word is like thick honey,
Whose hope into the dust is trampled,
for long seven years `who has lived
Llnely, in the deserted mountains,
Who has lost the joy of light,
Who never knew the happiness
Though she was dear once
To the hard-hearted Koblandy,
The noble Karlyga
Rode up on her swift horse.
Seeing the dust rising,
That the horses trampled the feather-grass,
Hearing the batyr’s call,
When he saw that Kalmyks are coming,
With army as thick as a fog,
Seil’s son, batyr Karaman,
Came riding on his piebald horse.
Seeing that the dawn has lit up,
Seeing that the dust has risen,
Hearing his brother’s calling,
That the war horses were rattling,
That the land is in turmoil since morning,
Karlygash, Koblandy’s sister said:
«This is my brother calling,
He’s calling the brave to march,
My dear brother, my only brother!
My brave warrior!
My heart tells me the enemy is coming.
So go, my husband, my Orak,
Get up, drive away the trouble.
For the land of our fathers,
For my brother’s sake, and for yours,
I’ll go like a sheep to the slaughter!»
The husband obeyed his sensible wife,
Over the mountain, over the ravine.
Orak rode to the battle,
He rode on his red horse.
Seeing the pillars of dust
Heralded the beginning of firing,
That, of a triumph dreaming,
The Kyzylbash army raised their banner.
A six-year-old daredevil rider
With a marten hat on his head,
Frowning his eyebrows, sits in the saddle,
Like a stone is his forehead:
This is Bokenbay is ready for the fight,
His sorrel horse he is riding.
When he heard in the morning hour
That Kyzylbash suddenly descended.
Armied himself for battle
And clutching the kuruk in his hand.
Bocken’s brave footsteps followed,
The faithful guardian of his childhood years,
Estemiss, in a heroic armor,
rode on his bay horse.
The brave men gathered in six,
To defeat the enemies.
A small detachment rode off,
On horses, like saigas, they fly!
The east flamed, turned red
The time of battle is at hand.
Koblandy and Shoshai came together
And they began to stab each other:
Each one wants to defeat the enemy,
They both value their lives,
Honor is dear to both of them.
Suddenly Karlyga approached them.
She says: «My revenge will keep!»
She says: «Evil for evil!
You have insulted me hard.
Though I was born a woman,
I will not bear it.
I’ll choose a target for my spear!»
Koblandy was confused,
So the distraught Koblandy
She struck on the thigh
And knocked him off his horse,
And tied him up and handed him to the enemy.
Look at Karlyga,
Seems doesn’t matter for her
is a friend or a foe or a kin!
Without glance at her loved one
And the blood from his thigh poured down,
Without looking at his enemy,
Karlyga left
To her eight-winged tent.
Where seven years, far away from people,
In loneliness and longing
she spent in the mountainous land,
Secretly hoarding her rage.
Koblandy lies on the ground,
Now his happiness is in the darkness.
The enemy laughs at him:
One strikes him with a sword of steel,
This one with a club and that with a spear.
«And now» the enemies say.
“We will take Tyburyl in captive,
The horse that is winged!»
The brave man’s sincere friend,
Taiburyl was circling around
To the dear hero, captured as if saying:
«Try to sit on me!»
But the vengeance comes more closer,
Like a wolf, looks around the horse,
And there’s fire in eyes.
Look at Buryl: surrounded by all sides,
But didn’t give to catch it to the enemies,
It suddenly rushed upwards,
soared up to the clouds,
and flew over the hostile army.
The army of Kyzylbash were taken aback:
On the ground they couldn’t catch
Even surrounded the horse by all sides,
How could they catch it in the sky?
Seeing the horse in the high,
Karaman on his piebald horse
rushed into the midst of the enemies.
Seeing that the darkness is deepen over Koblan,
over the leader of the brave men,
On his lean horse, Orak
rushed into the midst of the enemies.
Having guessed that his father was wounded,
Can be lied on the grass,
The six-year-old brave rider
With a marten hat on his head,
On a horse that heavily breathed,
Like a falcon, he took flight,
His forehead was as hard as a stone,
And his eyelashes covered in ice.
He rushes onward steadfastly,
He picked up his floorboards,
Bokenbay rolled up his sleeves,
He was born with the lion’s courage,
He is striving at full gallop!
With his axe he crashes stones!
A young boy drives up to his father,
Admires his son Koblan,
Kyzylbash squads are running away,
Yes, men flee from a child!
Seeing that on the edge of heaven
Taiburyl flashed in the distance,
That Koblandy lies in the dust,
On his mane-horse Estemiss
rushed into the midst of the enemies,
He swooped down like a wolf on lambs.
It turned out that he is brave enough,
That the enemies are trembling in fright!
He bursts into their ranks,
In a fierce anger, he suddenly breaks
His strong birch kuruk,
And to Koblandy approaches.
Let his enemies flee in confusion,
He sits before him like a camel,
He sees the blood is streaming from his wounds.
And exclaimed: «My Sultan is wounded,
The precious blood has been spilled!»
He mounts his horse again,
For Kortka to bring tidings.
His head with a white scarf is covered,
And under it is a maned chestnut.
He rode up to Kortka and said:
«I came to you with bad news,
You are here, unconcerned,
And your husband is exhausted
there from his wounds.
Hurry up and bring me some bear fat
so that the batyr won’t die,
Heal him, heal him quickly
The leader of the heroes!»
Kortka is fidgeting in tears,
Stepping on her hem:
The day of suffering has come again!
She cries mournfully:
«My sultan, my warlord, humbled into the dust!
My sultan, my commander!
Where is my horse, my pacer?
I’ll go now, I’ll heal my Koblandy!»
“You should stop your do”,
Estemiss hastened the men.
“You put a canopy over him,
So that it covered Koblandy,
Like a cloud — the vault of heaven…
You have failed, my Sultan,
This march was not a success for you!»
Listen to our story next.
Koblandy almost faded out.
A hole in the head – got a hit by club,
Blood flows from the thigh to the grass,
There is no consciousness in his eyes,
And over him dust sweeps.
A strong wind was up suddenly
And Koblandy came to himself.
He looked up and looked around,
He saw the kyzylbashas being killed,
By his son riding on his horse.
He said: «I’m lying alone.
Come to me, Bokenbay,
I have a word for you, my son.
You have been sent to me from heaven, Boken,
Be blessed, my son!
The grey raptor Shoshai, has come
Dressed in a blue shekpen .
You should meet
the enemy’s army with courage.
If you are truly my son,
Fight the whole army alone,
And learn all the tricks of the enemy,
Pursue the enemy with persistence
and thrust a pike into his thigh,
Do a good deed, Bokenbay!
If I didn’t have you,
Who would come to me, Boken?
I have never bowed my knees
No before khan, no before king,
Nor before a noble hero,
But for a woman I was not brave,
I was so trustful,
I sat down before her like a camel.
I expected no enmity from her,
And my sorrow will never leave me…”
That’s what Kobland told Boken,
And the rider rushed forward.
Shoshai Khan runs away from him,
Enemies are fleeing without looking back.
«Wait,» cries the boy.
Wait, Shoshai Khan, don’t go away!»
And looking at the boy,
Shoshai-kalmyk thought:
«This child is no danger to me,
I can handle him in a moment!»
Stormy Zhayik is wavy and wild,
There are thickets on its shore …
This boy is great in his soul,
Like clay, stuck to the enemy,
I started stabbing him with a pike.
The fight lasted from morning till dark.
Boken has a strong hand:
The Lord, him with power has rewarded.
At sunset of a formidable day
Shoshai Khan was knocked off his horse
By Bokenbay, by the hero-boy,
That’s how Kyzylbash Khan died.
And the troops, in the middle of the road,
Fearing to come closer the dead man,
Terrified, they yell and shout:
«Our fearless brother has fallen in battle!»
Bokenbay brings Karlyga to his wounded father
Admired Orak and Karaman:
What kind of a hero a boy is!
Having destroyed Shoshai in battle,
He showed them his courage!
He said here follows:
«I didn’t have time to look after my father,
I don’t know how hard is
the wound of our glorious lion:
Is he seriously wounded?
Is he was hurt lightly?
I’m woory much about it.
I’ll go and take a look at my father,
And until I come back again,
Continue the war together,
Punish the dishonest army.»
Oh, good people!
In this part of tale
We will tell about Boken.
To the cool of the river he galloped,
He saw the dome of Kortka’s yurt
At the foot of Karaspan Mount.
His mother comes out to meet him,
Bending her slender waist,
She spoke to him:
«Your soul is dear to me,
My son, my dear Bokenbay.
You have followed the trail of the enemy.
Do the same from now on.
The lake is beauty with its steep shore,
The saint deed makes the warrior
Your father, dear Boken,
Has never bowed his knees
Not before khan, not before king,
Nor before a noble hero,
But before a woman he fell.
He was mad with shame,
So sudden was his misfortune.
For the first time he was defeated in battle,
Disgraced, he rushes about.
I gave him medicine,
But when will he be cured?
I sit with him all night long,
But your father doesn’t eat, nor drink.
Don’t go there, don’t come to close,
He will not see your sorrow.
In his dark rage, in his blind rage,
He will deal with you, my boy
He’ll tear your head off your shoulders…
Bokenbay, now listen to my words:
Rise early at daybreak,
Get on Buryl’s horse,
And strap your sword to your belt
That is six fathoms long,
Trotting across the steppe plain,
And at a gallop through the mountains and hollows,
You’ll see a mountain ridge in the snow.
Find Karlyga in that mountain,
Who pierced your father with her spear,
And ruthless in her anger.
If your are strength enough,
You knock her down from the saddle,
Bring her on foot here,
Only then will you be able to face your father
You can see your father, my son!
You are the light and the beauty of my eyes,
Bokenbay, your destiny is high,
Believe me that I am right,
You fulfill my words.»
Boken pondered and immediately
He took his mother’s wise counsel.
He said: «Bring me the horse,
So that I can ahead, find happiness.»
Kortka brought Taiburyl,
She girded her son with a sword
A full six fathoms long.
Rushing through the ditches like an arrow,
Bokenbay on horseback galloped,
Trotting across the plain steppe,
Galloped on sharp mountain rocks.
He crouched down to the lumpy ground.
He picked up the stone at full gallop,
Kortka was delighted and convinced,
That he sits firmly on the saddle,
That his landing is good,
That his soul is brave
And that his power is great.
And Kortka said to her son:
«Behold, I see, you’re braver than a lion,
But in battle on Karlyga take pity,
Defeat her, but do not behead her,
Get the win, but leave her alive.
Karlyga is strong and smart,
In the past she’s done a lot of good
to your father, Bokenbay.
I beg you, my son,
Don’t kill her by accident,
Don’t be cruel to the lonely one.
Let Karlyga live!
But, if you won’t do as I say
You’ll hurt me badly,
You’ll never see me again!»
Bokenbay led the conversation:
«Why is Karlyga still
Cannot vary between foe or friend,
And a person has a fair or foul heart?
Why Karlyga knocked down
my father from his horse?
If you hadn’t asked me,
Over the rocks I would have dragged,
and would have cut her in half!
But now I promise:
I’ll spare her, I won’t hurt her in a fight,
If she’s smart enough,
And will not try to do me hurt,
I will not kill her, I will take her prisoner.
Hyah!» — Boken commanded to Buryl,
And the horse flew away like a blizzard,
It flew away, in the distance disappeared,
The hooves did not touch the ground.
Pits and cliffs it cares less!
And the young rider is glistened
with his diamond sword,
And his golden bridle,
And in his iron armour.
The horse is running, shortening the way,
And its chest is gleaming, curving.
With its golden girth.
The earth trembles and shakes.
Under the blows of the mighty hooves,
The valley shakes and flash by meadows…
But the beautiful Karlyga,
Whose tent is among the rocky mountain,
Didn’t want him to come.
On the day of the battle,
She was breathing vengeance,
And studied him well,
and the little one she had figured out:
He is powerful and his strength is amazing!
That’s why, in her tent,
In the night and at early dawn,
She prayed to her ancestors.
The dust columns rose in the air,
The horse Akmonshak appeared,
Karlyga sat on it.
The six-year-old daredevil shouted:
«You can’t escape anyway!» —
And rushed forward.
«Don’t run and calm down, a kid»
She shouted in her turn
And approached on horseback.
Bokenbay was on one side,
Karlyga on the other side.
Bokenbay says: «Karlyga,
I am not used to afraid of the enemy,
I’m strong, I don’t fear anyone,
But I’m not proud of my courage.
During the battle I will not run away,
But I keep words in my heart,
What my mother, Kortka, said:
You can shout as much as you like,
I won’t hit you with my spear.»
She is severe in her anger,
Karlyga did not heed those words,
In a thirst for revenge, her spear she raised
As if saying, you little one
you can talk as much as you like,
You talk nonsense,
and she plunged her spear into Boken.
Then Koblandy’s son saw that:
This girl seeks enmity,
And sent straight to her heart
his spear’s spearhead.
The braveheart put out her flame,
made of rings her chain mail.
To small pieces shattered.
The battle place between the two heroes
Turned into a deep ditch,
Here, a rage burned the boy:
So, he started to throw out Karlyga
of her saddle with his trusty spear,
Showing the batyr’s power.
As it was time for her to fall,
And the grass dwindled in her eyes,
Karlyga said follows:
«Listen, dear, nice-looking Boken,
Let’s stop this senseless fight.
Even you are younger than me,
I bow before you, Boken.
I’m at the mercy of a brave man,
Thou shalt not spare my life,
If you’re going to kill me, then go ahead,
But you should to show me, first
to your sick father.
Now, you listen to my words.
I have despised my language, my kinship,
I have killed for him,
My father and my brother in the battle,
I left my land for him,
Everywhere I have been faithful, only to him,
So, what is my fault?
Am I to blame for your mad father?
If the fault rests with me?”
So she told to Boken,
Young and beautiful in the face.
Boken’s was generous.
He sat the giant and hero girl
gently to the saddle,
but here he thought
«She can run away again!
I should be vigilant beforehand!»
He took Akmonshak by the rein
and leads her straight to the village.
Karlyga was calm enough,
on the way she wasn’t stern
with her young daredevil companion.
The boy left early in the morning,
At sunset he got his home.
In his heroic hand
Karlyga’s hand is trembling.
Two horse were seen in the distance,
Kortka heard stomping,
And she says to her husband:
«Our dzhigit has returned home,
Our boy has brought Karlyga».
Koblan looked at his son
He could got up and kiss his son
His dare son — Bokenbay.
Snd then he looked at Karlyga:
His son brought her, his dare son!
Here she is standing next to his wife.
Eight years without seeing a human soul,
Karlyga was living in the desert wilderness,
She lived in sadness.
And a thought came to his mind,
That a spear pierced her, too.
And the batyr felt sorry for her,
Koblandy forgot his anger,
I fell in love with her, feeling sorry for her.
And his soul is calm and bright,
And again he found peace.
He exclaimed: «Where is the mullah?
Let him betroth me to Karlyga!»
Koblandy-batyr gets engaged to Karlyga
Karaman, the hero had heard,
That Koblan of his wounds was cured,
And that with the beautiful Karlyga
His dear friend is getting engaged.
Karaman says follows:
«I have my rights, too!
Do we differ, me and Koblan?
Do we have different ways? Or the same?
If Koblan has a son,
Why I cannot be a father?
If am I not the boy’s father?
Why didn’t he come to me first
by duty of kinship…
with the precious prize?
I would slaughter goats and sheep,
I’d give up the war for a while,
I’d make a glorious feast,
With his new wife I’d betroth
My friend Koblandy-batyr!
My peer and Karlyga,
Who suffered in a deserted wilderness,
Where only snow and grasses.
They could have exposed sores of their souls.
I would rid them of their insults,
I would force them to open up,
Come out of the closet inside,
I would bring them joy and peace!»
Karaman’s wise talk
Koblandy-batyr heard.
He says to Bokenbay:
«Your father is angry with you.
You must respect your father:
You brought your mother to me,
But my son, my dzhigit,
You should to first
bring her to Karaman.»
Hearing Batyr’s words,
Bokenbay rode on his horse,
That in the morning caught in the herd,
In full view of the people he rode
holding Akmonshak at his lead:
Karlyga was sitting on it…
Karaman and Orak together,
Like wolves attacking a flock of sheep,
Making the Kyzylbash army flee,
They defeated the hostile army.
Leaning on their spears,
The winners stand by their side,
They look neither forward nor backward,
and climbing the high mound.
Suddenly a boy with Karlyga appeared:
With his new mother, arrived!
Karaman was delighted,
He invited his friends to join him.
Returning to his native aul,
He checked his herds,
He slaughtered sixty mares,
Six tribes were invited to the feast,
Ninety he slaughtered mares,
Nine other tribes he invited.
He was praised too much.
He ordered to set up tents
At the foot of the green mountain,
Where the lake’s water is bright.
He invited Kortka and Koblandy,
And by the lake’s water he set up
The tent with one hundred and ninety wings .
Here the fun had come to an end.
«Koblandy,» said Karaman,
«Chase away slander and deceit.
Banish slander and deceit,
Let resentment left your soul.
Let us sit in the sunset silence,
I’ll let no one in the house,
We’ll talk, the three of us.
Karlyga, first, it’s your turn,
Say whatever you want to say
Let no resentment live in your heart,
Let there be no malice and no lies.»
Karlyga started her speech:
«To take the offence out of my heart,
I should tell the truth.
Karaman, sit between us,
Listen to this speech, too,
As witness of my rightness.
Koblandy, my peer and friend!
When I saw thee all of a sudden
I’ve fallen in love forever with you.
I thought I’m your equal
And we can be a couple,
That you’d need me
That I’d be your wife!
I gave up everything for you:
My aul, my country and my kin
I left them forever.
No matter how crooked the case may be,
But if you consider it your own,
You go straight.
My father was gentle with me,
He prayed: «Oh, Creator, help her,
help her to find joy!»
And when I was little,
He used to say:
«Will you blossom light of my eyes,
As you reach your maiden years?»
But I’ve decided to help you,
To get you out of the dungeon.
Have you forgotten my father?
We killed him together!
Koblandy, this grievous sin
For whom I did commit?
For you only, for you alone!
I loved you as a wife,
And I’ve become your equal!
Alshagyr seized your aul,
He drew the Kipchaks to the ground,
Your horse Taiburyl became lame,
Karaman left you then,
You wandered by yourself, lonely .
Who harmed you?
Who saved you from death?
Koblandy, in this hour of trouble
For whom did I come?
For you only, for you alone!
But no need to think about my superiority.
So, you have forgotten my nobility…
The villain Alshagyr seized,
And many Kipchak people has killed.
My brother joined us in battle,
Birshimbay, rich in courage.
He pierced us with his faithful spear,
He threatened four of us with death,
You, Koblandy, were almost extinguished,
Who saved you in your hour of need?
Birshimbay, my beloved brother,
My only one, my kin one,
The foal that was born with me,
If he had any fault in front of me?
We grew up together,
I stabbed him with a spear,
I trampled your footprints…
This dreadful sin, say me Koblandy,
For whom did I commit?
I loved you as a wife,
And I’ve become your equal!
You’ve gathered your people together again,
You lived freely at winter pasture
You’ were free at summer pasture,
You’ve reached your goal.
The long-awaited moment has come.
And you were betrothed to Kortka,
But you didn’t think of me.
Among the mountains, having lost peace
And overcome with longing,
I lived in a dead silence,
And you didn’t remember me.
My tent over the river was set.
Where, I would die in grief, it seemed.
You went to the feast with Kortka,
You were passing by my tent.
I begged thee:
«Come to my tent and stay as a guest»
Thou didst not heed my sorrowful entreaty.
«Let’s visit Karlyga for a while!»
your wife begged you,
But thou didst not turn thy horse,
and thou didst not look at me.
What was my guilt of before you?
What have I sinned against thee?
How long did my joy last?
Where is your justice?
Thou hast feasted with Karaman,
And thou didst not think of me…
After overcoming the ridge-crossing,
You were on way to your hometown,
My tent was on that way.
I begged, humble and meek:
«Come to my tent, come with visit!»
Kortka begged you, too,
To be fair to me,
But you drove the horse further,
You rode away with your wife
without giving me even a glance!
So, humiliated by you,
So, offended by you,
I’ve amass a lot of evil.
And in the heat of battle with Shoshai,
For everything I have repaid you.
Now I stand here before you:
Whether I live or die,
The same words I’ll repeat,
I have nothing to repent of.
Now three of us here together,
And my soul is pure:
I’m right in the eyes of all.
And now, Koblandy, my sultan,
it is your turn to say,
Speak up, but beware of deceit!»
Koblandy says here follows:
«You are right, Karlyga, right you are,
Kyzylbash army was numerous,
was not easy defeating enemies.
No matter how crooked the cause was,
But you call it your own,
You call it straight.
Your father, as you were born,
Swaddled you in silk and satin
He was anxious for you to grow up
To continue his business,
But your father Kobikty
You helped me to destroy,
To shorten his days.
Yes, a stranger unknown before,
Koblandy-Kipchak has become
To you more closer and dear
Than your own father.
Since then you’ve been faithful to me,
From that on you are my equal:
That’s what people say…
There is no end to the sacrifice.
You had only one brother,
Birshimbay, your guardian, your stronghold.
With your sweet brother you grew up together, —
And you stabbed him with a spear,
You’ve shortened his days.
Yes, become more closer and dear
Koblandy-Kipchak to you,
A stranger unknown before…
Than your kin brother.
You have brought death to those closest to you,
You’ve done a lot of evil
Are you capable of good?
Can you warm a new hearth?
I take my friend as my witness:
The Kipchak doubts in you!»
A noble born, Karlyga,
With this speech was defeated,
And she fell at the feet
of fair Koblandy…
We’ll shorten our work,
let’s a long tale quickly narrate.
They rejoiced game for thirty days,
There rejoiced feast for forty days,
The people had fun all around.
Karaman, being a peer and a friend,
Koblandy to Karlyga betrothed.
For eight years, having lost peace
Karlyga in the mountains spent,
And by a longing seized,
And now her fate became bright.
If the soul craves the truth,
If you go slowly towards your goals,
But if you go like a brave fighter,
You will reach it at last!
In a blue wagon
the three of them sit together,
in grief and in happiness
they are close from now on,
Karlyga, Kortka, Koblandy…
By the new hearth
Karlyga understood and accepted
The sweet moments of life.
They had fun year after year.
Karlyga and Kortka, the two wives,
Were surprisingly friendly,
People admired their friendship,
Their dream came true in a good hour.
We could go on with the story,
Concluding it without sorrow.
A son was born by Karlyga,
They named him Kiikbay.
His enemies trembled hearing his name.
The people said of him:
«Kiikbai saddles a horse
The sun rises for the Kazakhs,
The sun of a new and clear day,
And for enemies, the darkness comes».
But in another tale,
We will tell about him in a special way.
Our story is coming to an end,
I composed it from my heart.
If a singer has something to say,
It sounds peculiar.
Yer Targyn was found guilty of murdering of khan’s vizier and was forced to leave his native Kazakh steppes. The guilty young man ran away to far Crimea. There were forty rich mosques and forty rich khans in the Crimea at that time, with Aksha-khan being the most important one.
At that time, the Oymaut and the Torgaut tribes were the enemies of the Crimeans. Aksha-khan laid siege to enemy capitals, but could not capture them. Targyn served in Aksha-khan’s troops. Crimeans were holding their position near enemy cities for a long time and at last they decided to raise the siege and went back empty-handed. It was then that Targyn decided to try his chance. Targyn gathered much-praised heroes, led them to attack and first spring forward into the fortress. Seeing this, the entire army joined the attack. The enemy fortress fell, and the enemy was forced to yield. Targyn became famous in the whole Crimea and Aksha-khan appointed him as his commander…
AKZHUNIS
Aksha-khan being all Crimean khan,
Had a beautiful daughter.
He would provide all her wishes
Whatever and whenever.
All his power,
All his wealth and his khan’s dignity
That’s the way he loved his daughter!
From merchants of faraway land
Special for her he bought a comb.
Carved in ivory tusk.
The sweet throat of a nightingale she had,
Her long hair shone like gold,
Her tender face was bright,
As played on the summer haze heat.
More beautiful than all her friends
Aksha-khan’s daughter was.
She had ruby lips, pearly teeth,
More pretty eyes,
Her eyebrow curved like a bow,
Every eyelash is as an arrow.
Like wheat flour she was all white,
As passed nine time through sieve,
Her bosom is high and round,
She was tall, stately and firm
Her hands with thinner fingers,
Like a young racehorse she was limber,
As a little horse she was easy,
All strong and all fast,
And she had a sharp tongue.
Just looking at her,
Men forgot all beauties near,
Were alienated forever,
The bold knights, daredevils.
Just looking at her in a jiffy
The old man could forget his age.
She was the prettiest of all,
She was the most playful of all,
Among all women she was the only one
True to her words along.
Her name was Akzhunis.
The beautiful Akzhunis fell in love with the brave dzhigit Targyn, but Aksha-khan against their marriage. But they caught the moment and ran away to the Kazakh steppe by riding.
Aksha-khan was very angry when he learned that his loving daughter had run away with a foreign dzhigit and announced that he would marry Akzhunis to the one who would catch them up and rend her from Targyn.
Many young batyrs and murzas responded to the khan’s cry and set off in pursuit. There was an old batyr Kartkozhak among them.
KART KOZHAK’S ENCOUNTER WITH FUGITIVES /RUNAWAYS
The horses are all tired long ago,
All dzhigits fell behind,
So turned their horses back long ago.
Even though they were ashamed of it,
They returned to the Crimea with nothing.
Only Kartkozhak didn’t fall behind,
His steed never got tired —
It was glorious Kaska-Azban.
It galloped only forward,
And was also steadfast.
Have passed so many days,
Have passed so many nights,
The Crimea was far away,
And caught up finally
The in love two runaways
The old batyr of krymchak —
The formidable knight Kartkozhak.
And Yer Targyn’s horse is Tarlan,
Cannot overtaken even by the wind,
Proudly raising its head,
The tail is fluffy spreading out,
Sensing the enemy’s catching up,
Started snorting with its ears pricked up.
Targyn knew his horse prophetic manner,
And the meaning of sensitive ears playing:
If Tarlan is snorting,
Then for no good is the meaning!
Targyn turned back,
Faraway he saw a black dot,
The dot was closer and closer.
Oh, means Tarlan wasn’t lying,
This was Kartkozhak catching up with him!
And then Targyn said:
«Oh, my faithful friend!
My black-haired, my silky-haired
The owner of most beautiful eyes, my Akzhunis!
You are more beautiful than all the Crimean maidens,
You are cleaner than all wives and maidens,
You should to know that we are in trouble!
In the hour of danger, I was always
Brave as a noble lion,
Fearless as a hungry lion,
The strongest as a tiger.
I was a winner in the games,
I was a winner in battles
And always went on the way of victories.
My strength has never failed me.
Only is strong God’s will
His hand is fatal:
He can crush my backbone,
Or can order my next steps,
Even kill me in the prime of life.
The horse gave me a warning sign
I turned back and saw the one,
Seems someone is riding to catch up us!
Though I can’t see yet who is exactly,
But I know that it’s old Kozhak!
He is like black tornadoes,
He’s like rockslides,
And as hard as a hardened steel.
His brow is as gloomy as a cloud,
He is gird by a roaring storm,
Ice hanged on his eyebrows,
His fierce look is like a snowstorm,
His onslaught is hawkish,
And sleeveless armour he is wearing.
If I rein in my horse,
He can beat me over.
I don’t want to be defeated,
And won’t let him have you, too!
If I ride any further,
He might think I’m a coward,
Never want to be called a coward…!»
With Akzhunus he had consulted,
And the follows Akzhunis advised:
«No! You should live up to your honour,
After all, you are a batyr, not a woman,
You are stronger enough,
And fight not bad, either!»
And Targyn replied her like this:
«You’re right, my Akzhunis!
I’m not afraid for myself – but for you, I worry much.
But if death is on our heels,
It will come here and there both.
If I am destined to fall,
Everywhere the earth will open its jaws!..»
Targyn overcame his fright,
He turned his warhorse,
And on his place he stopped dead.
His bow Targyn has inspected,
And his armour he has checked.
Meanwhile, the Kozhak’s horse,
The bald gelding Helmet-Azban,
Was approaching like a thunderstorm.
Eyes were burning under the visors,
And fire in veins and in bones:
If starts on its way at dawn
It will speed up only by sun!
Its mane like a whistling storm,
Its beautiful tail like a whirlwind.
It rode down the sharp mountain,
And here came like a hurricane.
Over its flank the wind whistles,
Under its hoof the ground beneath.
And on a horse as wild as a storm,
In his sleeveless armour
The undaunted man was sitting,
Over sixty years old looking.
In front of the runaways at full gallop
A dashing rider stopped.
At the rider Targyn here looked,
Not a young man in the saddle,
The gray-haired Aksakal1 was in the saddle!
There is a storm in his fearsome eyes,
A blizzard in his beard, in his moustache,
Ice hangs from his eyebrows,
The horse under him was Tulpar of blood-horse.
1Aksakal – an aged man
And Yer Targyn thought here:
«He is an aged man, like my father,
He can be same as my grandfather!»
And, bowing his proud stature,
The daredevil of endless steppes,
A young batyr and a runaway,
nicknamed as a wolf — Targyn
to the old man rode up, with respect,
Decency and observing the law of desert,
He bowed from his waist.
Er-Targyn looks at him and amazed:
Like a wide steppe,
The chest of a formidable old man is wide,
He is weighty and sound,
Like as a mud house.
On Targyn’s greeting as son
The old batyr bowed in response.
And then Targyn said:
«Hello, knight-aksakal!
I see you’ve ridden a difficult path,
You’ve crossed a lot of mountains,
You have crossed many valleys,
I can see batyr, your strength:
Your onslaught is swift as a storm,
As fierce as a steppe storm.
You swoop like an eagle golden,
you are zealous, and you attack like a falcon!
Who are you going to attack…?»
And that batyr, the aksakal,
To Yer Targyn replied the below:
«Akzhunis is my bright star,
My dream girl, my pride,
My beauty and my deary,
And you stole her and running away with her.
So, I’m chasing after her like an eagle!
I’ll go on you
Sharp girded with my spear,
And take your head off from your shoulder!
My old age is my fault,
But my fury is strong,
Hope the Lord will hold.
If death is on my heels,
There is no dispute with death.
But if death is delayed,
I’ll settle accounts with you, dzhigit,
I’ll take Akzhunis away,
That’s why I rode after you!»
And here Targyn replies:
«You are as a wall of impregnable rocks,
You are as mighty as mountain ranges,
Through which there are no passes,
You are as the hurricane that rushes through the pass
And sweeping away everything
I am a dzhigit, you are an aksakal,
But I’m not a meek slave
And not a timid little boy,
Just to give the girl to you away.
You are mighty, I am also not weak,
So, for my beauty and for my beloved
With a man like you, batyr,
I’ll fight as an equal,
«It’s me and my saying, but what about you?»
And the aksakal here says,
to Targyn in his response:
«Do you want to know who am I?
It’s me a dashing batyr,
And just like you, a kendyr .
I was born and grew up in the Crimea,
At its blooming shores and its multitude.
Yer-Kolik was my grandfather,
Koyanak was my father,
And I am Koyanak’s son-Kozhak!
I was a fame seeker since I was young,
I was ahead of the hunt of everyone,
On the countless army of enemies
I went alone, as I’m a brave man.
I have scattered their ranks,
I cut off their heads,
I fought against the thousands of enemies.
I am a mighty Kartkozhak! «
And Targyn replied as follows:
«My batyr, you are wise and aged,
And you’re burning like a fire.
You’re not in lack of power,
I see, a brave man you’re,
But don’t brag ahead
That Akzhunis you’ll take away!»
And Kozhak said here:
«Wish Alda will help me,
I will pierce you through
With my carved blade
I’ll take my long sword,
My white sword hanged on belt,
The gilded sword of steel
In your blood I’ll dip it.
I will hit you – gave no quarter!
Wish to be blessed here!
I see, you are not a coward,
Prove that you are a hero:
First will be my turn,
And then it’s your turn.
I’ll point the place ahead –
Where to I will hit!»
Er-Targyn then said:
«Let’s have it your way, Aksakal!
I’m not concerned about my skin-
So, take your turn, old man!…»
He plucked up the courage,
He did not succumb to fear,
And he remained stay in place,
Like a mature hare,
And blushed with rage all over,
Anger covered him like an armor.
Suddenly, as if he became wider,
his armor became tighter.
Here all of a sudden, the old man,
Felt the spirit of pity,
So, he spared Targyn!..
Kartkozhak drew his bow and shot an arrow at Targyn, but he aimed not to kill him and rated the bowstring strength, so that the arrow pierced eight layers of armor on Targyn, while the ninth layer remained intact.
The enraged Targyn wanted to shoot in his turn, but Kartkozhak stopped him:
«Oh, dear Targyn, do you really think that I could pierce through only eight layers of your armor, I didn’t have enough strength to pierce the ninth layer as well? No, you are mistaken, I deliberately rated my shot and generously spared your youth with hope that you would be convinced of my superior strength and give me Akzhunis without bloodshed. If you do not agree with this point, I will take my turn again to make my real shot, and this time the arrow will be fatal.»
Targyn thought for a while and understood that Kartkozhak was right, and that he cannot defeat the old batyr and he could ruin his life for nothing, in addition he would not get Akzhunis. And Targyn moved away to the side, as if defeated.
Seeing this, Akzhunis rushed to jump off her horse, covered her head with a kerchief and wept bitterly. Then Kartkozhak rode up to her and said followings:
«My beauty, you shouldn’t shed tears. Although I am old, I am not one of those old men who marry indiscriminately any girl. Show me your face, bare your waist, I will look at you closely: if I like you, I would marry you, if do not like you, then I do not need you for nothing, even if you are khan’s daughter.»
Akzhunis got offended, became angry and in her turn said follows to the old batyr:
A SONG BY AKZHUNIS
Hold yourself, Kartkozhak,
Hold your horse, Kartkozhak!
You’re hot, but you’re old, Kozhak!
I’m not the right couple for you,
I won’t show my face to you,
I won’t bare my waist for you,
And I will give this advice to you:
You’ve travelled a lot, thank God,
You’ve trampled on different roads, thank God,
You’ve seen many cities,
But, have you ever been to Bukhara?
Bukhara is the main of all capitals!
There’s a lot of good stuff in there.
And many curiosities there,
You should to go to Bukhara, old gentleman!
Oh, you’ll see that is great the Bukhara bazaar,
And you’ll see that is rich the Bukhara bazaar,
Silks are also very good in Bukhara.
Namely, Bukhara silk is so fluffy —
I’d like to keep long in my hand things silky!
If you know a lot about silk,
Take some Bukhara silk and run your hand over,
So, the same silky is my hair…
And go to visit the coiners,
A lot of gold buttons,
You will find in places there.
You should have looked at them, Kozhak –
So I could tell you the shape of my head!..
And to the scholar thou shalt come, —
A sharpened pen before him.
Oh, how wise is his speech.
Oh, how sharp is his pen!
Here thou remember my words,
and imagine my eyebrows:
My eyebrows are sharp same as that pen…
If you want to know about my nose
Hurry to Imran city, then.
Oh, the pistachios there are delicious!
You should choice the best ones,
Look at them and decide,
If shape of my nose is good or bad:
As a pistachio my nose looks like…
You’ll find mirrors everywhere,
You put up two mirrors near.
And imagine my eyes here:
Same they are round, they say,
Same they are bright, they say…
Go to Samarkand, also:
Many forges there, they say,
Anvils are crowded in a row:
If the anvils are fragile,
Then my teeth are not strong, either…
And go to visit the pullers,
To those that pull skillfully copper
Through the wire machines:
Look at that wire things,
So thin are my fingers…
If you go out into the field,
Then go to have a good look
on young bunnies:
On the grass how they play,
How they jump lightly!
And how their backs are so supple!
That’s the way my back is flexible,
And so my dance is easy…
And I can say here, else:
What is in the world the blackest?
What is in the world the whitest?
When on the black earth snow falls,
Have a look on that snow.
You would like the whitest snow,
So, the same my body is white,
The same my body is pure.
You would admire to see my snowy white body!
What is in the world of blood aley?
Shed blood on snow white,
You can compare my blush here,
with scarlet blood on the snow.
I was born in the azure Crimea,
On the green shore of the sea,
The noble khan Aksha-khan is my father.
I was with my mother,
And among the white, stout geese,
I grew up as a snow-white goose;
Among the fat-rumped sheep
I grew up as the sweetest lamb;
In the herds of frisky-white horses,
I grew up as a white mare,
White is my body and white-faced,
As the whitest of the milk steamed.
Oh, I was frisky,
Oh, I was jolly!..
Though China is far from the Crimea…
(Just imagine, how many months to go there!),
Once Chinese men, to the Crimea came,
To join the game.
And those Chinese men came to us,
One by one raved about my name…
Hold yourself, Kartkozhak,
Hold your horse, Kartkozhak!
Spare me, Kartkozhak!
Oh, it befell me unexpectedly,
A misfortune has attacked me here,
The thunderstorms were guarding me!
I am like a delicate rose,
Here around you shed my tears,
Holding your stirrup,
I beg thee like a slave:
If you are as said so noble,
As glorified among the people,
If you are a true batyr,
Will you reject my plea?
Will you destroy my fate?
Let me go with my betrothed!
It’s about five years,
Kartkozhak, you are making vine bows,
The horsehair and twine
On your own string you’ve woven,
Only the fine chiy you’ve used,
Goes furthest the arrow you’ve released,
The whistle of the arrow cares your ears.
Thou hast gained the glory as an archer, —
But your glory was without a horn !
At the age of ten, uh, Kartkozhak,
Your beshmet was as a poppy was red.
The sash glowed green.
You were stately and handsome,
You were look like a stallion,
But your glory was without a horn!
Uh, Kartkozhak, at the age of twenty,
You were a funny,
And you were a daredevil, they say!
Baring your knees to fight,
You were ready and always glad.
You were rich in sharp jokes,
And sharp as steel sword of words.
You’ve loved a lot of girls.
And the thimble of your lips
was a bait for them.
And you’ve made them fervid.
You were soon furious,
You’ve been fighting regardless,
For all rivals you’ve been a menace,
Like a camel mature,
You looked everyone in the eye bravely.
At the age of twenty you were a hero, —
But your glory was without a horn!
At the age of thirty, uh, Kartkozhak,
Became a mighty husband:
To death was your fist smashed,
You wore a copper helmet.
All over you shone with weapons,
All over you wore a chain mail armor,
And you held a hard spear,
And your horse on the loose roared,
On the grey horse you rode,
On the hot steed you rode,
Through valleys and mountains,
Across the wild steppes,
Exposing your chest to the winds,
Tirelessly prowled there,
And, fearless and daring,
Menacingly you whooped and whistled,
Fortresses to dust you have destroyed,
You attacked your enemies there.
Among them you struck fear.
But your glory was without a horn!
At the age of forty, uh, Kartkozhak,
Your fervour has not waned.
Like a mountain range,
You were just irresistible in every battle.
By a strong enemy the Crimea was attacked,
Then your motherland you’ve defended,
Both from the windward sides
And from the leeward sides
You stood upright like a keystone,
Your native hometown.
From the hills if there is a rumble,
As soon as breaks into the village the enemy
And to enter with them into the battle
Your shoulders you straighten,
And you fly towards them.
Against a thousand, you are your only friend,
You’re like a thousand of them,
And, than mountain blizzards more fearsome,
You sprinkle snow from your cheekbones and brow,
You’re freezing everything around you,
You turn the north into the south…!
Thou hast crushed a great number of foes.
But your glory was without a horn!
At the age of fifty, Kartkozhak,
Your step has become more dignified.
With pride and importance, the meetings you joined,
In debates you were calm and firm,
With eloquence you’ve shone,
You’ve become an experienced judge, —
At the age of sixty-five, Kozhak,
You are not a batyr, nor a leader,
You’re a lustful mule,
You have faded and dried up all over.
What are you bragging about here?
My ripe beauty,
My white-naked body,
The colors of my youth,
You longed for unrequited.
You shouldn’t hope in vain,
And shouldn’t dare dream about me
You will not get me!
Shall I forget my Targyn?
Shall I love an old man?
You can kill me right now,
I won’t be your wife!
You were young, you were boisterous,
You were mighty once,
You were great and you were wise,
And now, understand, you are old man,
The key of your strength is gone.
Kartkozhak, your head is about a long,
Almost filled with dry dung!..
Struck by the intelligence and courage of the young girl the old batyr Kartkozhak was not enraged for the insult, but knightly went back of his intention to separate Akzhunis from her beloved. The old man called Yer Targyn and said to him:
– My life is all behind, but yours is all ahead. I will not separate you – go wherever you want!»
Targyn and Akzhunis safely reached Yedil River (Volga) banks, crossed it and at last came to stay with Nogaily people. The Nogaili khan named Khanzada sent Targyn together with other three batyrs Karasay-uly -Koben, Alshagyr-uly-Tegen and Omir-uly-Seben to Kalmyk people living among Chagan River. Having seized Kalmyks, they stayed to watch the enemy leaving for the upper reaches of Chagan.
Targyn was observing and sitting on a bough of a tall oak tree. The bough turned out to be rotten and broke. Yer Targyn fell down awkwardly and injured his lumbar spine. Comrades brought Targyn to Nogaily on a peak stretcher.
In the meantime, Khanzada Khan decided to migrate with all the people from his summer pasture at the mountain Bulgyr-Tau to the Chagan River, that earlier was occupied by Kalmyks. Khanzada left the sick Targyn with his horse Tarlan and wife Akzhunis in old place but promised to come back for them as soon as they settled on the new lands.
A considerable amount of time has elapsed, but no one came for Targyn. The food reserves ran out and Targyn with Akzhunis began to starve. Feeling the approach of death, Yer Targyn composed a song saying goodbye to his beloved Akzhunis and his horse.
A SONG BY YER TARGYN
Bulgyr, Bulgyr-Tau you are mine,
You’re shrouded in darkness all around!
I’m devoted to adversities,
And separated from my people!
My grey horse of battle!
Everywhere shared my fate,
Here you are with me in danger.
Seems is dying your master.
You made up absence of all my people,
You’ve replaced the sun for me here.
Why are you shaking your head?
If only you could talk!
I have nothing to cure the spine,
So, minus a leg here I’m lying,
The bitter end awaits us here:
There is nothing to drink or to bite!
If only on you I could take a ride,
No matter how thin you got, poor boy,
You would take us home!
Where are you, all my friends?
If I die here,
Who would take away my bones,
Who would shroud me,
Who would bury me in a grave?
Like a beast a pain gnaws at me,
A deathly longing gnaws on me.
Grass looks so green in appearance,
Seems, I lie on the green grass,
Feel closer is my death,
I look at you with longing
Tarlan, you are my only friend!
I was no coward, of course,
I lived hero’s life, I was careless,
And relied on my own success.
I’ve lived a hero’s life,
I relied on my good fortune.
My life has flown by,
As a blizzard rustled away,
Seems very short on earth my days!
My star has set!
Hey, my beloved land,
Aschily-Togai and Ala-Bas,
You are my golden horde,
The irretrievable Kara-Tash!
Hey, my horse, Tarlan!
Remember the old day that,
When you rode in black sweat,
Through the steppes and mountains,
Through the ravines and valleys
And along the paths between the rocks,
When the enemy was near us,
When we were almost captured?
Not like a timid one,
Not like a low simple one,
That seeks the easier way,
You’ve crossed the valleys,
You’ve jumped over the ravines,
Rashly you took grades,
You flew without a backward glance,
And, not knowing fear, Tarlan,
You’ve been so resourceful and daring!
If I did not pamper you?
If I did not shoe you,
With the new, silver-ringing,
Moon-shaped horseshoes?
Remember, wasn’t it you who took me away,
Across the great river Volga bay?
There cracked under you more than once
Volga river’s blue ice,
That thin autumn ice.
But you’ve never stumbled,
And even never slipped.
No permanent the good luck for us,
Not forever is destined the happiness.
And bad luck would also fall out to us,
If there’s someone who loves, you
His heart is always with you
And if you’re in trouble or in strife
He would even spare no life
And would help you out,
In your hour of need
But a stranger means a stranger,
If in a big trouble you’re,
He is a stingy for care.
A horse corns he would serve in the battle
To the wounded batyr,
But if you can’t sit after first try,
He won’t come back for you…
Hey, pigeons, cute pigeons,
Blue-winged pigeons,
You’re circling in the wilderness,
Looking for food, for grains,
How long have I been like you’re,
Gathering my friends,
And strapping to the saddle a badan ?
On Tarlan I used to jump,
Prowled across the steppe and fought,
I beat the enemies of Nogaily,
I chased them up to Chagan!
I prowled like a wolf hardened,
I fought like a hero lion
Even was crippled at that time.
But you left without me,
There was no honour for me,
Having migrated to Chagan,
You threw me here,
To die on the damp ground.
My star has rolled away!
Hanzada has deceived me,
I will never forgive his deceit,
I’ll never forget it.
I had friends many,
But now I am alone and lonely.
Those who called me «Targyn»
My food with whom I shared,
Hardships in battle with whom I shared,
About friendship they all have forgotten.
Hey, Koben Karasay-uly,
Hey, Teben Alshagir-uly,
Hey, Seben Omir-uly!
Where are you my friends, my eagles?
Why don’t you help me like a brother?
Why don’t you help me to out the trouble?
Instead you’re all covered your tracks.
Hey, you shameless Nogaily people!
How could you forget,
When shoulder to shoulder with you we stand,
And against the Ayauke horde,
we fought so hard?
Remember how we dared,
the enemy forces from their land seized,
How then we rejoiced
How then we feasted!
And remember how the deer
Was running with its fawn there;
Koyanak-uly Kartkozhak
Released his arrow at the fawn,
But couldn’t kill the animal:
The fawn was slightly limping,
After it’s father then running.
Then at the male I shot,
The male has fallen dead!
My arrow pierced it’s through,
And arrow’s red-hot end
Dug into a roadside stone!
The competition here has started:
Koyanak-uly was first tried,
To draw out my arrow;
but no success, even he did his best.
All other boys also tried,
All by one and all together tried again.
Forty horsemen, forty of strongmen,
But it was impossible to draw it out!..
Days full of fun, where are you?
I’ve squandered my life, waly!
Oh, the bluebird of happiness,
If you left me forever?
I cry bitterly when I remember the past,
My heart burns when I remember the past.
I’ve lived a short life
In battles I multiplied deeds,
I’ve destroyed many enemies!
Forever you would remember, Seben,
White-skin Ivan’s son,
Bearded Ivan’s son,
And my last dashing raid,
Your horses when I’ve seized
At Aznau-town!
Eh, was good the booty,
My soul was merry!
I remember still today,
After having made a hike successful
I came back home happily,
I sharpened my axe,
I chopped my willows,
I tied the raft of willows.
Great you are, the river Volga!
From the beginning to end,
Your six-month route,
I sailed on my raft,
Wide you are, the river Volga!
On Tarlan horse for many times
Volga river, I’ve crossed you,
Volga river, I’ve cut across you,
And fought with Kalmyk people…
Akzhunus, my dear friend,
My wife beloved!
Your curly hair ringed,
Your eyebrows are arrow-shaped,
Your cheeks are like blooming poppy.
Are you really will faded?
Are you really become,
A slave, a prisoner of the enemy?
If the foe will rejoice really?
Oh, Tarlan, my faithful horse,
Friend of irrevocable days!
You are kin to me than all my relatives,
For the most noble of horses,
I will never change you!
My rouser, you’re so sad,
You’re tired of the lariat,
No ride, no gallop, and you’re bored,
No food, you’re skinny
Even move slow your body!
If a young reed only,
With tender, fresh leaves
Grew up in front of you suddenly!
Oh, God gave me no children,
So, they could get you drink!
If only, Tarlan, my friend,
Kara-Tau from its icy spring,
Suddenly flow in front of you,
Would be so refreshing,
If only right here and now,
Appear a green meadow before you!…
Seeing that the minutes of her beloved friend are running out, Akzhunis decided to show the last honor to dying husband and praised her days gone, Targyn’s yesteryear and his war horse Tarlan’s past in song. She sang about Targyn’s unfortunate fate who is dying not as a hero on the battlefield, but on the deserted nomad camp, lonely and abandoned by recent friends, insidiously deceived by an ungrateful khan. Hearing the song by Akzhunis, Yer Targyn was so agitated that he decided to either die immediately or regain his health and life. He got up immediately like an enraged lion, grabbed the dislocated lower back with both hands, pressed with all his might and set the twisted vertebra back.
Akzhunis firmly tied up Targyn’s lower back, helped him to get on Tarlan and took a seat near to handle the horse. So she delivered him to the Nogayli land.
Yer Targyn completely recovered very soon and decided to leave Nogaily people and go elsewhere. But at this time, the Kalmyk warriors led by Dombaul batyr attacked the Nogaily people. Hete Nogaily people again came to Targyn, begging him to protect them from the enemy. Yer Targyn declined a great while, but at last assented to requests and rushed alone to the attack against Kalmyks.
FIGHTS AGAINST DOMBAUL
Targyn saw the enemy’s army,
It was getting closer.
His girths immediately he checked,
White and yellow flag raised.
The fringe has rung
On his steel made armor,
The horsetail jingled
On his leaped horse.
In his word rumbled thunders,
Snow scattered his eyebrows,
Ice frozen on his eyelashes,
He became all like a severe frost.
As mighty as cliffs his shoulders,
And pulling tight the bow
a pair of mighty, long arms
Can stop the giant kulan ,
To the watering hole running.
Such a fellow was Targyn!
«Well, Kalmyk, come out to fight, —
I’ll fight against you, I’m Yer Targyn.»
Saying this he jumped on Tarlan.
If Tarlan starts run in the morning,
Only by the evening he will take a run.
If the way is blocked by a mountain,
No touching with its feet the ground,
It jumps, it’s taking a run,
And jumps over the mountain!
Fire from its nostrils,
Better don’t touch when it at gallop,
If you interrupt its free and wild run,
It’ll start crying like a man;
If it soars under the saddle,
It won’t gallop, but fly like an eagle;
In six jumps it can take,
A long distance of month’s way.
Having heard the enemy’s rustling,
It gets in sweat all black and glistening,
Playing with sensitive ears,
Above highest hills like a bird it flies,
It won’t stumble, it won’t fall
When it comes across the rocky stone,
Every trace of its hooves is stamped
As into the stone it driven,
So, a path through the rocks opens.
Such a horse was Tarlan!..
With a fringe of the armor ringing
Straight forward to the enemy driving
The fiery horse,
Swoop in like a whirling storm,
As if became violent,
The undaunted Yer Targyn.
Yer Targyn here sees a ravine:
» Come out to battle, enemy!..»
To the max all armed,
In steel armor dressed,
On a giant horse, on a racer blue-starred,
Jumped out to meet him,
Proudly exposing his adam’s apple,
Dombaul-batyr from Kalmyk.
And the giant-batyr Dombaul says,
To Yer Targyn follows:
«My power is rampant in me now.
If I want, I’ll shoot you,
If I want, I’ll stab you,
Very easy for me to defeat you!
You, Nogaily, who are you waiting for?
Whom are you, dzhigit, fighting with?
Tell me, what your name is?»
And Targyn said to him:
«I am fearless and quick,
Like wild mountains wind,
Among the peaks freely blowing
I’m a stranger to any shield.
So be it, I’ll tell you my name.
Get it through your head:
I am your father , your cruel bane,
You can call me Targyn!
As a black raven before me,
You are working up in vain.
Thirst for the feat of grief,
I was looking for a fight with you.
Let’s fight one to one!»
That’s what Targyn said to him.
And answered Dombaul,
And the reply was like the wind rumble:
«By the wind of lofty mountains
Till now alone, I was roaming,
You have enraged me to the point of trembling,
But, Batyr, you’re younger than me,
So, the first turn is mine…!»
Targyn prayed to his God
And here thought:
«I’m not a woman,
Not a weak child, even,
Not for the first time with the enemy fighting,
I’m batyr Targyn, I’m not a coward:
At least I’ve lost here,
So, I will give him the first turn !..
He turned round,
And in front of the enemy stood still.
And that mighty Kalmyk
boldly stepped forward,
He puts his hand in the quiver,
and takes a cunning arrow,
that flying not somehow
But with outlined its own path;
He takes up his tight bow.
With a silk bowstring,
And he shoots that arrow
over Tarlan’s head,
above the bow of the golden saddle.
And an arrow plunges
to Yer Targyn’s right chest,
Into his very atrium.
the nest of his life and death.
Targyn’s armor in nine layers,
An arrow pierced through eight layers,
Yer Targyn at that moment
Was very close to call,
Could kill him the Kalmyk.
But Targyn’s seventh ancestor
Heeded his prayer,
So, helped him the ringed collar.
And Targyn then said:
«Dombaul, you are a dog fierce!
I have heard your praise,
I was trying my fate, —
My God took death away from me.
The embroidered coat on your horse,
So, your horse’s harness glitters
Your armour is fastened,
The steel visor on your forehead…
I say to thee thus:
If my strength holds me.
And my hand will not wither, suddenly
I’ll release an arrow at you,
You’ll gasp out your life right here!
Kalmyk, stay still in front of me!»
Yer Targyn became enraged,
He whistled wildly and whooped,
And shouted a moto like all heroes:
«Give me luck, oh God!»
His blood run hot.
Immediately he was surrounded by
his great-grandfathers all around.
He put his hand into the quiver,
He took a handful of arrows,
He took aim, had the foe into his sight.
Over the horse’s head,
Over Kalmyk’s saddle,
Above his high bow.
With his batyr-hero hand
He draws his bow tight,
And an arrow flies, whistling,
Pierced at chest, pierced at Dombaul,
Breaking through one by one
All layers of his armor,
The arrow pierces,
Like a snake’s sting,
Into his very atrium.
The nest of both his life and death,
An arrow through him flies,
Behind the hill it reaches,
Destroys the hill to ashes!
Here Kalmyk dropped the banner,
Shouting: «Dalai Lama!»
He fell dead from the saddle.
The Kalmyk army stirred,
An immediate council they hold,
On their horses they jumped,
And Targyn was surrounded.
BATTLE WITH KALMYKS
And Yer Targyn stopped for a while
And thought:
«There are seven thousand of them, but I am alone.
Oh, Lord, please help me,
There is no other protection for me!
A multi-thousandth enemy
Can I break them alone?
Can I defeat them alone?
And if I die – so be it!
Only my honor is dear for me!
You, my red-hot arrow,
You, my bone-tipped arrow
You, my golden, carved
Four-toothed bow!
Our peacefully leisure time is gone, –
Help me out, my faithful friend!
If my arm strength fails me.
and I cannot pull thee here,
for it I’ll be damned!
And if you can’t stand my strength,
And suddenly break down,
For it you’ll be damned!
You, my other military friend,
That cutting through the chain mail,
And taking off the heads from the shoulders,
My steel, long sword,
My six-inch sword,
Like a beast thirsty for blood,
Why are you sleeping in a scabbard?
Or with former cuts blood
Are you still stuffed?
The time has arrived to draw you out!
If I do not exert all my strength,
If I don’t turn out my shoulders,
If I do not swing widely with you,
If I do not rush towards the enemy,
Then I should better take great pains,
Me, Yer Targyn, will be damned!
But if among the all enemies
At least one survives,
But you will stop chopping the enemy,
Even though my hand is not tired,
Damn you then, my sword!
You are my six-sided spear!
On your hilt of pine tree,
Carrying a motley banner,
Thou sharpened, two-bladed,
Smashed enemies more than once,
Amused friends more than once.
If I don’t run atilt against the enemy,
If holding you don’t rush into the midst of enemies,
If I do not cause them death
A rag is then my banner,
Let the women laugh at me,
I’ll be damned forever!
But if thou shalt fail,
Or if you are just tired,
If you can’t stand the fight,
And you would fall out the hilt
Or your hilt is broaken,
Thou, my spear, be cursed!…
My broad-chested horse,
High-headed horse,
You’re as fast as a hurricane,
Tarlan, you are s tried-and-true friend!
We can’t play soldiers with the enemy:
I am alone, they are a whole army.
Listen to what I’m telling you:
There must be a mortal struggle, I admit,
A great race, I admit,
I ask you to double, even triple your speed!
If you can slip through the enemy’s lines,
If we sweep away the enemies to the ground,
My gratitude to you I will demonstrate,
Oh, my dear servant.
I’ll reward you with grain selected,
I’ll dress you in brocade and velvet!
But if I fall from the saddle,
With no raging myself out on the enemy,
Let be cursed my affairs,
Let be cursed my hero deeds,
And I’m Targyn,
by myself I’ll be damned, too!
But if you at least for a while,
Make a pause for breath during the strife,
You, my Tarlan, be damned, too!.
And in all his military glory,
Took off his gold-woven gear,
Targyn got off his horse,
Pulled tight his sash,
All the armor he checked,
And the girth he tightened,
The crupper strap shortened.
After all, he had no kin,
He had no friend,
So, ho would help him now?
Only helper is the God!
If the Lord gives a good outcome,
He will defeat these enemies, also.
And these as well as others,
As soon as he upon them rushes,
Their heart will turn to ice!
And a surge of fabulous energy
Yer Targyn felt it in himself.
And the batyr jumped on the saddle,
The batyr shouted in anger,
With a whip the horse he warms,
And shouts, flying upon enemies.
Great anger seized him,
The Kalmyks surround him.
He rushes at them at point-blank range.
How will be resolved the unequal tussle?
His yellow and white symbol
Splashes, strapped to his peak
And his travel pouch, too.
Eyebrows frowning like a storm,
And speeding up, Targyn,
Ploughed into the enemy’s line.
He attacked them from the lunar side,
He attacked them from the sunny side.
He is alone, like an adult wolf,
that attacked a sheep flock,
He chases enemies and cuts them down,
He maims them and kills them,
He stabs all on his left,
cuts down all on his right.
Like a river runs the enemy’s blood,
The dead are no longer counted.
When is this fight end?
Tarlan gnawed in his mouth the bit,
Tarlan rides in a black sweat,
The sweat is dripping as frequent rain,
Tarlan is wheezing, patience wore thin.
And the fight is still hot
And the whip lashes the horse’s hip.
And though for himself the batyr gasps,
But turning out again his shoulders,
On his tulpar he is riding,
With a spear he strikes enemies.
Trampling the dead and the living,
He does not give to rest his enemies.
Targyn replaces his spear to a dagger,
And struck his enemies with a dagger.
If he catches up any enemy, cuts him,
He is gnashing of teeth is terrible,
Yer-Targyn looks so fierce,
Look like sheep all the enemies,
And everyone tries to hide.
No one among them has the courage
To look Targyn in the face.
He changes the dagger for a sword.
He takes his six-inch sword,
Tore the enemy’s heads off by batyr,
Mows down the Zhalbardy men by batyr
And he does not give the horse a break,
And he does not give the enemy a break.
Six days have passed – here comes the seventh,
Targyn still beats his enemies
The eighth day also comes,
For Kalmyks a black night dawns.
Tarlan walked away to take some breath,
Now Tarlan came up with a bang,
Making a sharp comeback.
And for Targyn the hour has arrived
To go through paces in the best light.
He takes off his gigantic bow,
On every arrow released
Kalmyks are down knocked.
Without a miss, Yer Targyn strikes.
He heard only screams and groans.
The ninth day here comes,
A day fraught with a new victory.
His gun, here Batyr takes,
With cast lead he shoots enemies,
Fire after fire, smoke after smoke.
Already by himself, Targyn
Was heavy to breath in the thick black smoke.
But he didn’t stop shooting.
It was a happy day for him:
He shot his enemies to death,
He made a big mess,
So, he terrified his enemies.
Who is still alive, somehow
They run away from him to a ravine.
It is impossible for a batyr to get off a horse,
He does not want his reputation to damage,
Also, cannot sated his vengeance.
The batyr jumps days and nights,
The batyr is tearing his enemies to shreds,
He was very angry.
Eleven times the dawn was lighting,
The eleventh dawn was gloaming.
No matter what kind of tulpar Tarlan was,
Only without a break rushing around,
Wrapped in a cloud of steam, Tarlan
finally, very exhausted.
Batyr felt the horse’s neck,
The under-thigh fat became soft.
The batyr looked at Tarlan’s feet.
Tarlan was neither sick nor old,
Tulpar began to fall on its feet,
At last completely stiff.
To his horse, the batyr got angry,
He whipped the horse hardly,
He kicked also in the sides,
Whistled with a terrible hiss:
«If we don’t obtain success,
If we don’t beat the enemy at all,
If my arm is not tired,
Will you betray me, my horse?
Cheerfully neigh and do not wheeze my horse,
Serve me, be patient, my horse,
Keep up your spirit, my Tarlan.
Rush like a whirlwind across the steppe, Tarlan!»
No matter how Targyn’s horse was tired,
It galloped again, even not feeling feet,
It could tear down a big caravan!
It was getting dark. The night fell black.
The twelfth dawn was rising,
The red sun rose again.
Batyr searches for his enemies,
But there is none of them.
He looks around again,
Batyr can’t believe himself
He could vanquish the enemy completely:
The dead are in his eyes rippling.
Targyn gave a look over his horse:
Instead of its big hooves,
Now there’s only a thimble left,
Of its entire wool
there was only the undergrowth of fur.
Of the lips that were as long hem,
barely left for two fingers long.
Of its long, sharp ears,
like the reed tails,
Only four fingers long remained.
And of its curly mane
was only an inch on the top.
Its beautiful lush tail,
was now as docked flake.
Its round body became bony,
and it was like a dead,
Tarlan was all over wounded,
There were seventeen wounds on it!
But the horse has also a keeper.
Alda is saved it from death.
No feeling it’s wounds,
it was cheerful and zealous,
The horse pulls the rein,
The horse is playing, it’s bit gnawing,
And rushes forward as a prompt trot.
And Targyn if press its sides
Or with his whip lightly lashes,
And touches the reins slightest
And the tired horse Tarlan
Once more takes such a stride.
It can easily outrun
all those running on the ground.
Targyn sits on Tarlan proudly.
The battlefield, Targyn looks around,
At this early hour Targyn rides,
On a dry grass he tramples,
Behind him, he raises dust
He rides and a sad song sings,
He feels pity for the killed enemies.
He came back home with the first star,
The vii and murza led by Khanzada
And all other Nogaily people,
bowed low to him,
Everyone was praising him.
Then Nogaily arranged a celebration.
From sheer joy Khanzada khan promised to marry his daughter to Targyn. But, again the wily khan deceived Targyn. Targyn became angry and left with Akzhunis for the Crimea. He decided to make peace with Aksha-khan, got an army together in the Crimea and take revenge on Khanzada. But Khanzada got scared and sent his Golden Horde friends with lots of gifts to talk with Targyn. Targyn returned and lived at Zhan-Arystan and Ush-Targyn areas, and later became khan himself.
