Olonkho. P. A. Oyunsky

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      Lay screaming and laughing shrilly…

      Suddenly, a daughter of Abaahy,

      The old woman Begeluken,

      Whose ugly face

      Was like a piece of raw meat,

      Whose hair was dishevelled,

      Whose fingers were like claws,

      Dodgy, cunning and insidious,

      Who had three humps

      And blood clots in her mouth,

      Came tearing along

      And ran up to the cradle,

      Rocking it to and fro,

      Bent over it and conjured…

      THE SONG OF HUMP-BACKED BEGELUKEN

      ‘Ihiligim-tahiligim…

      Edenigim-kudanigim…⁷⁶

      Let the baby weep,

      Who is in my hand!

      Let him stop weeping

      Before dawn.

      Let his sharp savage claws grow!

      Let strength be absorbed by him

      When the sun rises,

      Let insatiable bloodlust

      Be instilled into him

      To get rid of those

      Who have shadows,

      To destroy those

      Who walk in darkness!

       Edenigim-kudanigim…

       Ihiligim-tahiligim…

      May you have a tough skin

      Which cannot be torn,

      May you have strong muscles

      Which cannot weaken,

      May you have hard bones

      Which cannot be broken,

      May you have blood

      Which nobody can shed,

      May you easily cut

      Both the good and bad

      In the Under and Upper Worlds…

      Fracture the backbones of those

      Who have the reins on their backs,

      Who belong to the Kun-Erken kin,

      Let them vanish forever!

      Egelim-kuogalim…

      Ihilim-tahilim…

      Knock down the mischievous and unruly

      Urankhai-Sakha,

      Who have belts around their waists.

      Throw them face down,

      Reduce them to dust,

      Destroy their homes!

      Oh yes, I am bending low,

      Oh yes, I am going around…

      Treading on the evil tribes,

      Ripping out their hearts and lungs,

      Tongues and hard penises.

      Make this possible for me, old woman!

       Alaatan-ulaatan…

       Aidanym-kuidanyn…

      Oh yes, I am talking a lot…

      Oh yes, I am making much noise…

      Kill the father of the Under World,

      Wipe off their mother

      From the surface of the earth,

      Rip out their hearts,

      Vocal and spinal cords.

      Give them to me,

      To thank me for rocking your cradle!

      I am breathing with difficulty

      Because of hunger,

      I am slowly dying

      Because I have eaten

      All the beetles and frogs…

      Oh, sweet baby in my hands,

      Oh, gurgling baby in my palms…

      Emine-tuomuium, emine-tuomuium!’

      As soon as she had finished her song

      And her sounds

      In the Under World, in the evil land,

      The lords of the Upper World,

      Honourable men of this world,

      Fathers of the Under World,

      The oldest men said:

      ‘It seems that there was born

      A great warrior

      Who could never be oppressed…

      His fortune-telling cradle

      Is not good either,

      He seems to be rather unlucky;

      He would disturb the sky for sure,

      He would unfasten its lock,

      He would destroy the Under World,

      He would cause alarm,

      He would shake and excite

      The Middle World for sure…

      He would rip the shiny locks rope

      Connecting the three Worlds,

      He СКАЧАТЬ