would cause incalculable calamity…
The oldest men used to say:
Warrior Kulut the Best
With evil thoughts and a bad temper,
Khan Sabydal, the hero,
Who would ruin skies and earth,
Ehekh Kharbir, Erken the Hero,77
A three-year-old boy,
Causing revenge and death,
Would be born
At the junction of centuries.
Has that child been born already?!
It must be him, none else…
We should frustrate him, by any means!’
After that they took counsel,
Put their heads together
And tied the child tightly
With a fiery bewitching rope
With ninety-nine knots
To an eight-sided magic post,
Which was on a four-layered
Unsteady iron mountain,
Which had no pillars
In the layered white sky,
Which was not fastened
To the white clay of the earth.
From the bottom of the Under World
Early dew and dense fog came up,
Then they put it under
An invisible lock and key
As big as a six-year-old stallion’s head
Covered with red copper, they say…
‘If a great storm blows up
From the Upper World,
He will cause great troubles,
If the cold blows heavily from the Under World,
He will cause double disasters,
If the fresh air blows
From the side of the Middle World,
It will distress and trouble life.’
So they brought three deadly warriors
And put them on three sides –
To prevent the upper side
From great tempests blowing up,
To restrain the cold
From the lower side,
To screen the other side
From misfortunes.
These were three
Clumsy death heroes
To guard and protect…
If, in the Upper World,
A major problem erupts,
If, in the Under World,
A sudden commotion takes place,
If, in the Middle World,
A misfortune happens,
Only then will Genghis Khan order,
Will the Odun Khan decide,
Will Jilga Toyon instruct
These three warriors of death
To stop the heroes
Who shake the shiny locks
Of the three Worlds,
Increasing disasters.
That was an edict of the great fiery court…
The deities of the heavens
Who had set up the Middle World
With its rising sun
And its trees falling down,
Who had installed countless wealth,
Happiness and immortal life,
Settled in here
Sakha Saaryn Toyon and Sabyia Baai Khotun78
From the tribe of Kun-Aiyy,
With the reins on their backs,
Who were relatives of Aiyy-Khan.
Who were destined to create
Three dear Sakha,
Who were destined to give birth
To four Sakha,
Who were destined to multiply
Dear Urankhai Sakha.
If one walked towards the east,
Where the low white sky
As soft as a chamois cloth
Hangs with its thrums79 down,
Where the edge of Mother Earth,
Wet with rain, curves upwards
Like a ski made from a solid tree,
There is a wonderful land,
Nine-brimmed, nine-rimmed,
With wide, green fields,
Knowing neither snow nor frost;
Its trees never fade,
Its sun always shines,
Winter never comes,
It is always summer here.
If one looked
At this wonderful land
Covered with a blue haze,
