say that warrior Kun Jiribineh
With the grey horse
Is an inbred unhealthy boy.
Can I not crush him?
Whether they agree or not,
It is all the same:
I will take away and marry
My fair-faced Tuyarima Kuo.
Ha-ha…ha-ha…’
Having said that,
He pretended
To rejoice and laugh,
Hiccupping, showing his teeth
Like the sharp brims
Of a split birch-bark basket.
Having heard this,
A young man of the Middle World,
The brave warrior Kun Jiribineh
With the light-grey horse
Flew into a fury.
His blood was up,
He breathed heavily
Like a sweating bull,
He swelled with indignation,
His muscles strained
So that he arched his back
Like a crooked tree.
He threw his head back,
His curly hair hanging back
Down to his shoulders,
Rose up like a foal’s tail,
Swished to and fro over his head,
Sparkling with sulphur fire,
Flint sparks flashing
From his eyes and face.
His eyes became bloodshot;
He had thoughts of deathly battle.
His fingers crunched
As if he was beating a drum,
His strong tendons pinged,
Tightened like twined willows,
He turned green
Like silver filings,
Like iron filings,
He turned dark,
Like copper filings
He turned red,
Holding his long spear high,
Thirsting for fresh blood,
Glittering to reflect
A young woman’s eyelashes
And eyebrows,
Holding his long bloody batas
Like a walking stick
Glittering to reflect
A young man’s teeth and lips,
Swollen like a mountain,
Taking wide steps,
Treading heavily,
He came up to the demon’s son,
To the best of Ajarais,
And brandished his huge fist
Under the black, hooked nose
Of the Abaahy.
The face of the Abaahy shrank.
The warrior spat in his eyes and face
And started to insult him
With caustic words…
KUN JIRIBINEH’S SONG
‘Buo-buo! Buo-diibin…
Filthy face, bandy legs, bloody mouth,
Blackguard, son of Ajarais
Dropped down
From a passing cloud,
Son of a demon dropped down
From a moving cloud,
I will trample on you,
I will bridle you,
I will put you on your back
And rip your belly open.
Be quick to say your last words
Before you die!
Who are you?
I want to know –
Whom am I going to kill?
Where are you from, blackguard?
How will I tell in my story
Whose black blood I have shed,
Whose thick skin I have cut,
Whose long bones I have broken?!
If you want to know who I am,
Who is the one boasting
In front of you,
You should know this:
I am the mighty and vigorous warrior,
Kun Jiribineh
On the grey horse,
With the fair-faced sister
Tuyarima Kuo
On the chestnut ambler,
Whose father is Sakha Saaryn,
Whose mother is Sabyia Baai Khotun,
Destined to engender
Three kins of Sakha,
Appointed
