Olonkho. P. A. Oyunsky

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      Four kins of Sakha.

      I have come to flay

      Your thick skin myself,

      I am here to punch

      Your bloody head

      With my fist,

      I am ready

      Like a drawn bow…’

      The demon’s son hiccupped

      Like a dying man,

      Jumped up,

      Slapping his sides.

      His yell reached the sky,

      He grinned crookedly,

      He smiled disgustingly

      And licked his neck

      With his long tongue

      That was like a sulphur fire

      And began to howl…

      THE SONG OF THE DEMON’S SON

      ‘Aar-jali! Aar-tatai!

      Alaatigar emineh-tuomui!

      What strange sounds you are uttering,

      You, Aiyy-Khan’s relative?!

      A poor boy, hairy child,

      You are hardly visible

      On the ground.

      When you know me,

      With my ninety-nine ways of escaping

      And eighty-eight ways of cheating,

      How could you dare to contradict me?!

      If I hit you once,

      If I kick you once

      You will disappear into the mist.

      Who would come and protect you

      With his wide breast?

      Who do you think

      Will be your shield

      So that you can oppose me?!

      As for me,

      I was conceived by my father

      Who is the same as other men,

      I was born by my mother

      Who is the same as other women.

      My ageing father is

      Arsan Dolai, Logayar Luo Khan,

      The forefather of the Ajarai kin,

      In a worn-out fur coat,

      With few sharp teeth and a tail;

      My mother is Ala Buhrai, Aan Jahin,

      The foremother of an evil kin,

      Born shackled,

      With shaking knees

      And a sharp nose.

      My brother is Ehekh Kharbir,

      Three Shadows,

      Timir Jigistei,

      Born in the age of enmity,

      Nestled at the bottom

      Of Eluu Cherkechekh.

      My elder brother

      Is a great warrior,

      Alyp-Khara, Aat-Mogoidon,

      Born in a disastrous age,

      Settled near the entrance

      Of Ap-Salbaniki;

      My sister is Kuo Chamchai Kyskyidaan Batyr,⁹⁷

      Fiery Uot Kutaalai,

      A great udagan,

      With an unpredictable temper,

      With grasping hands

      And sharp nails.

      If you want to know,

      I am the warrior Uot Uhutaki⁹⁸

      With cold breath

      And wicked thoughts;

      I was born under the western sky,

      I am the spirit of icy Muus Kudulu

      The bottomless ocean,

      I am here in person

      And of my own accord…

      Will you not give your girl

      As a wife,

      To such a great man?!

      Get her ready as a bow,

      Dress her as a rainbow,

      Adorn her as a flower,

      Dress her

      Like a favourite daughter of God,

      Bring her as soon as possible!

      Do not try my patience;

      I will be angry with you,

      Do not delay me,

      I will fight you…

      No hard feelings

      Because you are my brother-in-law,

      I am not in a rage yet,

      Because you are my relative.

      I will get her

      Whether you agree or not –

      It is all the same to me.’

      He grinned ominously…

      The first one said:

      ‘I will not give her to you!

      You СКАЧАТЬ