FIRST HEROIC DEED OF MANAS

(Warrior Kochku of the Kalmyks comes with seven hundred soldiers to guard the land and is killed by Manas.)

[To obtain a sense of the rhythms of the epic and the drama of the recitation, listen to a sound recording of Elmira Kmkulkz reciting in Kyrgyz a summary version of the "First Heroic Deed of Manas," transcribed from a performance by Sagymbay Orozbakov.]


Before he finished his words,
Before Bay Jakïp calmed his anger,
6380 Would that God not show such a thing--
With flags and red banners waving in the dust,
Making a disturbing hue and cry,
Carrying crescent-shaped black banners,
Making an alarming hue and cry,
On the other side of the mountains,
On this side of Kangay,
Came the Manchus with the envoy of Esenkhan,
The land guardian
Of the Kara Kalmyks and Manchus,
6390 Who had heard a rumor:
"The countless unruly livestock
Of the Burut Kyrgyz Jakïp
Have been grazing on our land," he heard.
Carrying seven flags
And taking seven hundred warriors,
The leader is the giant Kochku.
Heading the seven hundred warriors,
Kochku arrived suddenly.
Kochku, the warrior of the Kalmyks
6400 Wreaked great havoc.
That pig had prepared himself
To root out
Jakïp with his forty Kyrgyz families,
To wipe them out completely,
To pick apart the fabric of their lives,
To bring on them a great disaster,
That pig had waited, indeed,
To plunder Jakïp's livestock
And add them
6410 To Esenkhan's riches.
Imposing Kochku and his warriors,
Galloped up,
Riding a chestnut horse,
He set out filled with wrath,
With his orders from Esenkhan,
The brave Kochku had no choice.
He took with him the best guards,
The most skilled spearmen,
All together with seven hundred warriors
6420 That Kochku arrived now,
His men wearing large coats of mail
And large mail shirts,
Dirt flew in the sky,
Soldiers marched in disorderly array,
What the soldiers carried
Were mighty bows and metal-tipped arrows,
They came and threw their demands
In the face of bay Jakïp.
His howl enough to shatter stones,
6430 Kochku came with threat of force
His shouts enough to break one's head:
"Good-for-nothing, devious man with a mustache,
Your heart is wicked, troublesome Burut,
Possessing countless livestock,
You've let it go to your head,
You came to Altay as an exile and prospered.
Obey my orders, Burut,
Hand over to us at once
6440 Your rascal son Manas.
If you don't agree to it
And don’t give Manas to us,
Death awaits you right now,
I will completely destroy you.
You, the good-for-nothing Burut,
Obey my order, Burut,
Give Manas to us, Burut,
If you don't comply,
If you don't hand Manas over right now,
6450 You and your Kyrgyz people of forty families,
I will plunder your mares,
I will teach you a lesson.
If I really get mad
I will smash your brains out!
I came to take Manas
With your permission, my Burut,
If you don't grant my request
And don't give what I ask,
I will create a disaster,
6460 Just wait and see, my Burut,
I will plunder your people,
And cast you from your seat of honor into the grave,
Plunder your four kinds of animals,
And make your head spin!
I have an order to carry out,
Good-for-nothing, devious Burut,
I will confiscate your treasure bags,
Esenkhan has given me an order.
He is my master in Beijing,
6470 I have my commanders and khans,
So, accept my words,
Without any argument and quarrel,
Give me Manas,
Good-for-nothing, devious Burut,
You were driven away from your Kyrgyz,
And suffered, unable to find your homeland.
Raising countless livestock,
You have been using, indeed,
The foothills of Altay.
6480 Saying that your son's name is 'Fool,'
You've been betraying, indeed,
Our king Esekhan.
You've been hiding, indeed,
You dümpeki son, Manas.
You wanted to reach your people
And become a respected leader,
And enjoy your life every day,
6490 One day, for sure
You intended to return
To your far away Kyrgyz,
And give away your livestock,
Which you obtained for gold,
Good-for-nothing, devious Burut,
You intended to flee
To your Burut people, for sure.
Your son Manas' bloodthirstiness
Was known to us,
6500 He had been recorded in the record books
Of brave Esenkhan, the master.
Lying that your son's name is 'Fool,'
Good-for-nothing, bay Jakïp,
What were you thinking?!
Esenkhan has given me an order
That I must destroy you all,
Bay Jakïp with his forty Kyrgyz families.
Yield to my demand,
And hand over your rascal son Manas
6510 To the khan Esenkhan.
If you don't agree to this
And don't give up your son,
I will cause great trouble,
I will extinguish your hearth,
And haul you all in
Before Esenkhan.
I will find immediately
You Jakïp bay and your Akbaltay,
I will squeeze the fat from your body
6520 And suck the marrow from your bones.
The Khan's decree is law,
If you don't give up your son,
I will ruin your encampment."
Wearing his large coat of mail,
He brandished threats.
That angry infidel
With strong will and great wrath,
Leaves a trail of death when he attacks.
Seeing this warrior
6530 Who received his khan's order,
People lost hope for their lives.
Kochku repeated arrogant demands,
Unable to withstand the infidel's wrath,
The earth cracked,
Within the blink of an eye,
Before anyone could respond,
Loud drums were heard,
Loud signal horns were heard,
Guns were fired, bows were shot,
6540 Dust sprang into the sky,
All the warriors gathered,
The strong men wearing large coats of mail,
Infidels full of wrath,
All together they were seven hundred warriors,
Drums were beaten hard,
With Tagïlïk, their envoy,
And led by their brave Kochku,
All began plundering the mares.
There were horses with white spots on their heads,
6550 Among those horses
Stallions and chargers were mixed.
Kochku and Tagïlïk,
Leading their seven hundred warriors
Raided the horses all together,
They cut off the tether ropes, made an uproar,
Thus testing the forty families,
They carried out their khan's order
By devastating Bay Jakïp.
Suffering from the Kalmyks,
6560 Women and children were distraught,
"We really face captivity," said
Noble Baltay and bay Jakïp:
Losing hope for their noble souls, they said,
"We suffered from Kochku.
If we resist them,
Not one of us will be spared," they said,
"Let the Kïtay take our livestock,
And add them to their treasure," they said.
Only Allah is just,
6570 May our noble souls survive!" they said.
The wicked Kochku began the killing,
He didn't spare any souls
Of the forty Kyrgyz families, the noble people.
From the palace of Esenkhan
He had come on a special mission
To the Kyrgyz,
To inflict great trouble
On Jakïp,
And take away his countless livestock
6580 By plundering them quickly.
They destroyed their yurts,
Made their young women and girls weep,
And plundering, stampeded
All the grazing mares.
While that was going on,
The twelve-years-old brave Manas,
Riding his horse Toruchaar
Donning his weapons and everything,
Wearing an unsheathed sword at his waist,
6590 Like a dark rain-cloud,
His wrath showing on his face,
Without a moment's pause,
And risking his life and limb,
Without a second glance,
With no thought for his soul, he said:
"While I still have my strong head,
How can I give up my stallions?
These Kalmyks have gone too far,
I will exchange blows with them.
6600 While I still carry my noble head,
How can I give up my livestock?
Esenkhan has gone over the edge,
I will try to exchange blows with him.
I will tie up his warriors
And cause trouble
To their khan brave Esenkhan,
I will drag them on the road
And feed them to the dogs.
I'll make whatever trouble I can,
6610 I'll not spare not even one
Of Esenkhan's warriors.
This infidel really went too far,
I'll chase this infidel hero
Who attacked first
All the way to Beijing.
I will drive the infidel in Altay
All the way to the Kangay [mountains]
As for the Kara Manchus in Kangay,
I will drive them all the way to Beijing.
6620 If I can't carry out this deed,
And slaughter them exactly like that,
Would that I not have been born,
May I die rather than remain alive.
This Kïtay is indeed spoiling for a fight,
I'll undertake to slaughter them,
This infidel attacked us first,
This legendary warrior Kochku
Wants to plunder my horses
And bring us disaster for no good cause.
6630 Did I plunder the gold
Of this shameless infidel?
Do I owe him any tribute?
I will come to blows
With the brave Esenkhan.
If I let this Kïtay do what he wants,
He will drive my livestock away,
This pig -- may he burn in fire! --
Won't leave me alone,
If I let this Kïtay do what he wants,
6640 He'll inflict upon the Kyrgyz a disaster, indeed,
The likes of which has not been seen.
To the Kyrgyz.
Swarming like black worms,
These Kïtay multiply fast, indeed,
These Kïtay, indeed
Are wont to murder, plunder and humiliate people,
While my noble head is still alive,
How can I subject my people to them?
If the just Allah wills it,
6650 I will exchange blows
With the teeming Kïtay."
Carrying his spear, he charged into their midst.
Willing to die should death come his way,
And saying "I will risk my life," he gathered his strength,
He carried a banner,
For the sake of his kinsmen,
He plunged into battle with the "dogs."
"I will massacre them all," he said,
"I will get back my horses
6660 Which the Kïtay have plundered," he said,
Wearing his silvery coat of mail --
You should have seen Manas --
He crouched like a white tiger.
He donned his silvery coat of mail
And mounted his Toruchaar,
His eyes burned like fire,
He craved for blood.
His front teeth as big as a door
And unlike those of any other man,
6670 Were white and gleamed from a distance,
He got furious and angry,
Each part of his body
Resembled that of a lion.
This "dear one" poured out his wrath,
His stature and figure
On horseback
Looked so tall and mighty
That he seemed not one but a thousand.
He is a panther guarded by a human, the sheikh,
6680 And the youngest of the six lions,
He himself is the favorite child of Allah,
He is the perfect man,
He is the lion protected by a sheikh.
Look at his inner world --
It is wider than the earth,
No one remained alive fighting with him,
No one dared to approach him,
He is one of those famous lions,
He is the brave lion Manas
6690 Who spared no man's soul.
His nine guardians
Stood guard on all sides
Of Manas at that moment.
The black-striped tiger
Stood ready to attack
When he set out towards his enemy,
A lion with a short, gray mane
Stood ready to attack behind him,
Being a companion to the hero.
6700 His forty guardians and Kïzïr Nïyaz,
As companions of the hero,
Shouted all together
In support of Manas.
. . . .
He seemed to cause a tragedy
Across the face of the world
And march into the seven-gated Beijing
6720 All by himself and defeat it.
He rode forth pouring out his wrath,
Death is near at hand
For those who cross the path of this lion.
You should have seen the hero's appearance,
He looked like a fortress built from iron,
Neither Kochku alone,
Nor even Esenkhan would be spared.
His raised eyebrows were full of wrath,
He struck down those who attacked him.
6730 He had a big mouth and craggy eyebrows,
His face was the color of wheat smeared with butter,
His eyes looked like an evening fog,
Jakïp bay's young Manas
Tied his strong waist tight,
Hit his Toruchaar with a whip,
Grabbed the spear in his hand,
And shouted loudly with wrath,
Behind him, the forty boys
Cried out, calling his name "Manas!"
6740 Making a path where there was no path,
The swift Manas, the panther
Then attacked the seven hundred warriors
Headed by Kochku.
The mighty Manas,
Who was twelve years old at that time,
Separated the middle of the army
For his forty boys to surround.
The hero came out
6750 Having broken off the center of the army,
Toruchaar which he was riding
Reacted to the hue and cry,
When he heard the uproar,
The janïbar really showed his stallion-essence,
He wasn't scared from the hue and cry,
At night under the moonlight,
He never stumbled,
Toruchaar which he was riding
Reacted to the hue and cry
6760 By showing his stallion-essence.
When he ran, the black ground
Cracked layer after layer,
He didn't slip on the steep slopes,
He was no different at all
From a deer walking on cliffs.
He was never upset when ridden in battle,
He never tired when ridden at a gallop,
He never let up when ridden on campaign.
He had mattock-like hooves and a wide croup,
6770 Raised in the wide pastures,
He was a pure-bred stallion
With iron lungs and copper wrists,
Manas khan's Toruchaar,
When he entered the battle
With enormous vigor and force,
In a frenzy, like a woman who lost her husband,
The rocks onto which he stepped crumbled,
Chunks of dirt the size of a small yurt,
Flew over the head
6780 Of the gray-maned tiger Manas.
His muscles moved with the grace of a sheep's,
His back was straight as a running rabbit's,
He opened his mouth really wide,
White foam mixed with blood
Splashed onto his chest,
The brave Manas entered the battle
On his Toruchaar by making him
Gallop forcefully and eagerly.
6790 He thrust his big iron tipped spear
And never shied away from
The enemy he fought,
Those he knocked off their horses
He trampled on the ground like rabbits.
He dipped his spear in blood,
And pinned them to the ground like rabbits
Those warriors who struck at him with a spear.
When they were plundering the horses
And making a big hue and cry,
6800 They were seven hundred warriors,
Of whom no one was spared
When he attacked them.
When Manas hit with a single blow,
Twelve warriors fell to the ground.
Their warriors wearing coats of mail
Were killed one after another,
Their warriors wearing mail shirts
Fell dead one after another,
The soldiers and the famous warriors were killed,
6810 Of the seven hundred warriors
All who crossed his path were killed,
All the trouble for the Kyrgyz came to an end,
All the horses were saved,
The brave Manas, the panther,
When he came riding fast, with a single blow,
Twelve warriors fell to the ground.
When the hero struck,
All those who confronted him
Fell to the ground one after another.
6820 Before they were ready to strike him,
Within a blink of an eye,
He wreaked havoc,
Your brave bloodthirsty Manas
Went after their seven hundred warriors,
And slaughtered them all.
Their brave warrior Kochku,
The good-for-nothing, had thought of an evil deed,
He wanted to do him harm
He wanted to knock the young Manas off with a spear,
6830 Tie him up
And bring him to Esenkhan.
Burning with rage,
Holding the spear in his hand,
Whipping his pure chestnut stallion,
Shouting with great wrath,
Yelling "Möndü" as his battle cry,
His blue body armor was to be seen,
Those who saw him shrank in fright,
When this infidel poured out his wrath,
6840 He looked like the Ala-Too [mountains.]
That Kochku, who arrived,
Had a head as big as a cauldron
And eyebrows resembling a lying dog,
You should have seen his moustaches,
They were like nettles on a mountain slope.
The dirt on his smoking pipe
Was as thick as the balls of flour which children ate with their fingers.
His braid on his back
6850 Was like the mane of a stallion,
That was the brave warrior Kochku,
Who left Esenkhan's presence
And set out with determination
That he would tie up Manas and bring him in.
He was never defeated
And could eat a whole pig at one sitting
And still be hungry.
He was a skilled rider and fast runner,
He was a legendary great warrior,
6860 Whose eyes were big as an open grave,
He could swallow up anyone he came across,
His nostrils flared
Like a crooked and steep mountain valley.
That Kochku could swallow whole
Anyone he encountered, along with his horse,
You don't want to know about this Kochku --
He has the look of thousand warriors.
His mother was a Hindu whore,
No one could knock him off his horse,
6870 No one he came across remained alive,
His father was a Kïtay shrew,
This wild animal, the pig
Speaking no human language,
Shouting and spewing forth his wrath,
Looking tall and big as a mountain, said:
"You've turned twelve, I see,
Even if there were eighty of you, Manas,
I'd kill you all today.
6880 I'll tear you out by the roots.
Together with your father bay Jakïp,
I'll tie you all up and take you with me,
You cunning Buruts,
I'll tear you all up by your roots.
When I was playing with you, Burut
You started a brutal fight,
I had seven hundred warriors
And you wiped them all out.
I am outraged and call for my men to attack.
6890 I'll root you out right now,
I'll raid your ayl in Altay,
You good-for-nothing, cunning Burut,
I'll take my revenge on you right now,
Even if you had forty-five souls,
My good-for-nothing, I'll spare none of them."
He got furious and intense,
Even the earth shuddered and was torn apart
Unable to withstand the infidel's rage.
The brave Kochku challenged him alone,
6900 His hair stood up straight,
Gathering his strength
Kochku stood ready
To strike against Manas.
At that moment Manas khan,
Who was born under a lucky star,
Hit Toruchaar on his haunch,
"I'm ready, whatever happens," your brave one said
And thrust out his iron-tipped spear,
He leaned forward,
His rib-cage swelled,
He exploded in rage,
For this furious, bloodthirsty man
Thirsted for blood.
The brave Manas, the gray-maned,
Faster than a speeding arrow,
Was on Kochku and struck him.
Kochku's feet slipped off the stirrups,
He lost his seat,
6910 As if a mountain was toppling,
He fell off his stallion.
Akbaltay and bay Jakïp
Rode up right away,
His father Jakïp said these words:
"My only son, Manas khan,
You've done great damage,
And brought darkness, trouble, and chaos,
You've mercilessly slaughtered
Kochku, the warrior of the Kalmyks.
6930 You dug your own grave deep,
And you are going to suffer from it,
You will bring misery, my foal,
Which no man has ever seen.
[. . .]
By attacking the rulers of the kingdom,
You will strip me of my coat,
With your misbehavior, my foal,
You will bring great trouble onto my head
The likes of which has not been seen.
When they hear about it, my foal,
The Kara Kalmyks, the Manchu people
Will dig a grave for me,
Saying that my son is a hooligan,
They will squeeze the essence of my life,
You will seize my valuables.
By acting outrageous, you rascal,
You will have me lose my skin.
Now the Kïtay will plunder my sheep,
These Kïtay will surely
6960 Leave me no way out."
While Jakïp stood lamenting,
Akbaltay interrupted vigorously:
"Don't complain, Jakïp, in vain,
One who laments in vain won't win,
Your complaining is no good!
One whose death is near will die,
Whatever Allah wrote on our foreheads,
Our noble heads will see!
6970 Foolish Jakïp, what are you saying?
A boy must be rambunctious,
If he's not rambunctious,
Better that he'd not been born.
A boy must become a brave man,
If he doesn't become a brave man,
Better that he'd not been born.
We have the ordo in the wilderness,
We have booty of seven hundred stallions
Which he has seized from Kochku,
6980 Let's enjoy the booty today
By dividing the seven hundred stallions
Among ourselves."
Akbaltay spoke many words
Before he finished speaking,
The panther Manas pounced,
He did a bold deed,
He cut off the head
Of Kochku who lay before him.
There were seven hundred stallions
6990 Which he brought as booty,
He divided the booty stallions
Equally among his followers.
Those who were cleverest
Managed to get stallions as booty,
Even the poorest Kyrgyz
Received red gold and other valuable things.
"Manas is a blessed child,
Leave him alone,
7000 Don't lament this deed of his, Jakïp,
He is indeed the gray-maned lion,
If he grows up safe and sound, just wait,
He is the lion who will lay your sufferings to rest,
He is the hero with an eloquent tongue.
He is the one who will re-attach that which has been torn off,
He is the one who will reunite your people who were scattered,
He will re-kindle your long-extinguished hearth,
If this boy stays alive,
He will bring your dead soul back to life.
7010 He will become a khan
And rule over
The teeming Manchus, the infidels,
If he stays alive, you will see,
Those who confront him will perish.
He is the one who desires
A better life for the Kyrgyz of the forty families,
He is the one to soothe our burning hearts,
And the one to open our eyes wide,
He is the one who shows the way to victory,
Who by himself is the equal of a whole army,
7020 Calm down, my bay Jakïp,
Our honor has been restored,
The Creator granted us Manas
We regained our dignity.
Your son is our backbone and strength,
With power the equal of a mountain,
Your son is indeed a lion,
A real gray-maned one who is our support.
If your Manas stays alive,
He will become a lion
Who will find you a way out,
7030 If your Manas stays alive,
He'll become a lion
Who'll bring laughter to your face.
He'll smear your yurt felts with fat,
Don’t be upset, bay Jakïp,
God himself gave him to us,
He'll make you a khan to many people.
He'll smear your yurt frames with fat,
Don't lament too much, bay Jakïp,
He'll make you a khan anywhere you wish.
He'll lay your grief to rest,
7040 By taking booty from battles,
He'll fill all your chests
With treasures like yellow gold.
He'll make you content
By filling all your iron-banded chests
With treasures like blue silver.
If Manas stays alive,
He'll be dense forest and woodland
Through which neither hail nor wind can pass.
He will be a black-gray-maned hero,
7050 Who doesn't return the livestock he's seized to their owner.
We are the Kyrgyz of forty families,
Who've been sadly separated from our people,
I rely on Manas now
For he identifies with those Kyrgyz people.
You lament in vain
Saying that your son is a rascal,
Your lament will do no good,
Don't grieve, bay Jakïp,
One who is afraid of death cannot triumph
7060 We should divide the booty of Manas
Among the forty Kyrgyz families.
Before we die
We should enjoy our lives!
Whatever The Creator wrote on our foreheads,
We should face,
Just for the sake of Manas,
We should sacrifice ourselves
To the teeming Kakans and Kïtays,
Make up your mind, bay Jakïp,
7070 We must leave all the cattle behind
And flee towards the Kyrgyz
Believing in Manas as our hope!
We can't accomplish anything
If we stay here in Altay,
Let's return to the Kyrgyz
Regarding Manas as our hope!
We are the Kyrgyz of forty families,
Who are not alive, but dead in spirit,
We are among the dead souls,
7080 We are living amongst
The teeming infidels,
So, we aren't alive!"
Akbaltay spoke many words,
The forty Kyrgyz families gathered,
Believing in Manas as their hope,
They decided to castrate their rams
Make all their sheep fat,
Geld their oxen,
Geld all their stallions,
7090 And geld their camels.
The noble Kyrgyz thus
Thought of fleeing,
Praying to the Almighty,
The noble Kyrgyz got ready
To return to their precious homeland.
When all the seven hundred warriors and the warrior Kochku
Were murdered
And their goods were plundered,
Tagïlïk of the Kïtay,
7100 Had fled to Esenkhan,
But Manas didn't see him flee,
For it was a starless night.
Tagïlïk escaped from him safely.
Walking fast
He traveled for many days,
And arrived at the pavilion with golden beams,
Where brave Esenkhan sat
In an iron-gated court,
The emperor's citadel
7110 Of the brave Esenkhan.
It was surrounded with groves of maple,
In the center of the maple grove
Stood the golden throne of Esenkhan,
It made one’s heart content,
Sixty kilims of various kinds
Were spread on the ground.
The wonder of these kilims was
They never lost their color
Even if soaked in water for forty years,
7120 They never rotted
If soaked in water for eighty years.
In his pleasure garden
Sat Esenkhan
On his emperor's throne.
In attendance, Esenkhan
Had the best of the khans
Including the Lung-tung's khan
Who wore precious stones
And big greaves.
7130 He also had his strong warriors
Wearing large coats of mail,
And executioners with swords
Ready to sever a human head,
Next to their dear khan,
The warriors armed with axes
Stood ready to act.
He had rhinoceroses and elephants,
He also had mad butchers
Who didn't spare anyone they came across,
7140 He had warriors holding axes,
Infidels who would bring devastation
When their khan gave them an order.
He had his warriors and giants,
Esenkhan was indeed an emperor
Who gathered all the armed forces.
This sweet fellow had gathered
Everyone who could be of use.
In front of Esenkhan
At the door entrance
7150 He had a dungeon forty rope-lengths deep
And forty soldiers guarding it.
He had his sixty giants tied in it.
When their khan gave orders
People were terrified of them.
At the mouth of the dungeon,
He had an elephant with a sword-like trunk
Who never set anyone free
Except on Judgment Day.
7160 His guards were seventy
Who appeared quickly upon a summons
And who wore human noses and ears
As protective charms.
Tagïlïk of the Kïtay
Came in flight and shouted,
He kowtowed
With no hope to save his soul,
He told the story
About the noble bloodthirsty Manas:
7170 "I'm a messenger before you,
Oh, emperor, I came to you
To tell bad news,
He [Jakïp] had slaughtered many cattle
And had named his son 'Fool.'
This Jakïp, a Burut himself,
Had been hiding
His bloodthirsty son.
7178-7209[...]
7210 He is indeed a great lion,
The son of the miserable Burut
Is indeed Manas, I learned.
He turned twelve this year,
When he turns eighteen,
He won't let us plow the land,
If he stays alive, you will see yourself,
He won’t let your Chïnmachïn,
Your teeming people
Live in Beijing.
7220 He will shatter your idols,
My khan, he will wipe your people out.
Let me describe Manas' appearance,
He wears an unsheathed sword,
His wrath lies on his face
Like a cloud which is about to pour rain.
He carries a long polished spear
With an iron tip,
He himself never shies away from anyone.
Those who fight with him
7230 He tramples underfoot like a rabbit.
He is an elephant-figured rascal
With strong wrists and a stone heart.
His companions are eighty-four,
Everywhere he turns is set ablaze,
That cunning Burut
Was born in Altay,
He has a gray-black mane
And great power
To bring devastation to the Kakanchïn in Beijing.
7240 His walking frightens us to death,
His voice scares the wits from us.
To tell you this I passed through
The Bakburchun in the north
The Kakanchïn in the south
And your great Dungshang town.
He isn't a man born for no reason,
He isn't a boy to leave us alone,
His might equals a mountain
He could devour with rage
7250 Everyone who challenges him.
I saw his appearance, he is a gray tiger,
Thre is no one like this Burut.
When he shouts thrusting forth his spear
He really hasthe look of a lion,
I have never seen the likes of him among humans.
My lord, I barely escaped
To reach you.
I saw such a warrior like him,
I saw with my own eyes, my lord,
7260 His slaughtering of those who approached him.
When they plundered
All of Jakïp's mares,
Riding the stallion Toruchaar,
He dug a grave for all of them
And slaughtered them all
Not sparing one.
He looted gold as booty,
The Buruts thus buried themselves in booty.
I won't tell the rest to you,
7270 My khan, what would I get out of it
By lamenting endlessly.
He is the exact same bloodthirsty Burut
Who, even before his birth -- may he burn in fire! --
Was recorded in the record book.
Now he has become full grown
And reached the age of twelve.

2005 Elmira Kmkulkz. All rights reserved.