firm, red sand
Boiling up with a rustle,
With scaly-barked
Huge trees
In dense, dark woods,
With high, rocky ridges
Which had snowy tops
And long, southern slopes,
With the burning red sata stone,3
With the daughter of ilbis, the spirit of war,
Screaming above,
With such an immense length,
With such unmeasured width,
That a crane for nine days and nine nights
Could not cross it,
That even a white crane crying, flew over fast,
Unable to find its end,
With remote, unsullied edges,
With long, sluggish meadows,
It became the full and ripe
Centre of the world,
The complete and flourishing centre
Of the Motherland,
My long-stretched
Great valley
Kyladyky khotun...
As three Sakha men
Had not come down so far
To this blessed Middle World,
To such a fine,
Lovely land
With a splendid surface
From the Upper Urung Aar World
By the order of Odun Khan,
Had not settled there,
Had not built a house
In the best location
On its golden, precious range,
Had not fired a sacred hearth,
Had not put life into a rich,
Beautiful home,
Had not made a pen for herds of cattle.
The offsprings of the tribe of Abaahy –
Lustful creations,
Having found it a pleasant land,
Appeared there,
The offsprings of the tribe of Ajarais –
Deceitful creations frequented there,
Without any praise for the spirit
Of the great land,
Without any homage paid
To Ekhsit Mother-Goddess...
If you gladly enter
This great, favoured land,
If you turn your eyes
To the southern part of it, you can see –
At the beginning of the single, death road
It had nine narrow and high
Bald peaks
Standing angrily
Facing each other
Like nine great stallions
Of Toburakh Baai Toyon
A young Urung Uolan Aimed high And released his bowstring…
And Togoruia Baai Khotun4
Ready to fight...
If you look inattentively
At the side behind them,
If you push it up –
At the greedy, white obscure range
Of the southern blind, swirling sky,
Great mountains,
White-winged by both sides,
Sharp-headed by the tops,
Rose upside down
In a thick crowd,
Soared
In a long ridge
Resembling huge, proud cranes
Which shot up at once,
Resembling horned, delicate deer
Which stood opposite each other.
If you open the lower part,
If you look at the bottom side –
Nine huge peaks,
Blood-winged by both sides,
Rushed up
Upside down
And sidelong
As nine mighty oxen,
Walked in the middle of a valley
Trampling down up to their knees
A frozen ground,
Butting each other,
Scolding,
Losing their temper...
In the remote Under World pass
Of the Ajarai tribe,
An enormous snowstorm
Which could smash
A large, black boulder
The size of a lying cow’s belly
Blew
