relative was Suor Toyon28
With the big throat
As wide as the string of a waistcloth.
On the opposite side
Of the furious southern sky,
At the bottom of the violent hell,
There was the insidious blue sky
Under which a vast alaas29 could be found,
Where eight demons guarded the dark hell.
There was a land which was a source of treachery,
Whose whirlwinds
Turned everything upside down.
And if ninety-nine great shamans
Were dragged out of that abyss
Using the noose of a black rope
With ninety-nine loops,
And were thrown right before her –
Such an evil shrew with sooty face –
She would not be tamed,
Her appetite would never be satisfied,
She would not get her fill.
That was Khotun Kokhtuya,
Cunning and insolent;30
She ruled there
Sitting on her bloody-mucus ocean,
She had a pantry at the bottom,
She had a fence on the shady side,
She had a shed on the left side.
I want to tell you
As skilfully as Akim did,31
I want to speak
As expressively as Kylachisap did,32
I want to paint the story in bright colours,
As to who was the friend of that smart old woman,
Who was good enough to share her bed,
To roll playfully on the bedding,
Who was the male
Destined to fertilize her womb?
It was Ulutuyar Uluu Sorun Toyon.33
In the hollow of his chest
As large as a small sitting baby
There were two birthmarks
Looking like raw meat.
A fiery, revolving force whirled down
From his bleeding wound,
Which was right in the middle of his throat.
His spear, thirsting for fresh scarlet blood,
Glittered and reflected his young teeth and lips,
If it were driven into his hip socket
He would awake in a rage
Slapping his hips,
Crying out threateningly,
He would sit down menacingly.
It was he, her husband,
Ulutuyar Uluu Sorun Toyon…
He was as slender as a spear, As swift as an arrow, He was the best among the human beings, The most beautiful among them…
After the great hot-blooded battle
Which shook the firmness
Of the vast surrounding sky,
Uluu Sorun Toyon’s tribes
Known as the pugnacious and boastful
Thirty-nine tribes
Settled on the right side
Of the southern swirling sky,
They say…
If you want to know
Who are the men and women
Of these thirty-nine tribes,
Here they are…
There are girls filthy with infectious disease,
Unable to give birth to a baby,
Looking like the curved skeletons
Of sacrificed horses.
There are boys infected with a dreadful disease,
Who have never experienced intercourse,
Looking like the skeletons
Of sacrificed horses turned upside down.
If you want an idea of their wealth
Here are the facts…
They have a stooping, tall, black stallion
Which has never covered a mare.
They have an emaciated, snorting black mare,
Which has never been mounted by a stallion.
They have a starving, skinny black foal,
Plodding along, dying.
So, these are the greatest devils
Of the southern white sky.
If I tell it as Argunov did,34
If I narrate it as Tabakhyrov did,35
All bright and lively,
Kinsfolk of the Under World who begot the tribes
Born wearing worn-out, ragged fur coats
And fetters on their feet
In the ruinous country of Ap-Salbaniki36
Who
