Folklore heritage of the Turkic peoples
The poem «YER TARGYN»
The poem “Er Targyn” is a heroic epic depicting the historical events of the Nogai era, glorifying valor and heroism, preserving the unity of the country, as well as themes of pure love.
Yer Targyn was found guilty of murdering of khan’s vizier and was forced to leave his native Kazakh steppes. The guilty young man ran away to far Crimea. There were forty rich mosques and forty rich khans in the Crimea at that time, with Aksha-khan being the most important one.
At that time, the Oymaut and the Torgaut tribes were the enemies of the Crimeans. Aksha-khan laid siege to enemy capitals, but could not capture them. Targyn served in Aksha-khan’s troops. Crimeans were holding their position near enemy cities for a long time and at last they decided to raise the siege and went back empty-handed. It was then that Targyn decided to try his chance. Targyn gathered much-praised heroes, led them to attack and first spring forward into the fortress. Seeing this, the entire army joined the attack. The enemy fortress fell, and the enemy was forced to yield. Targyn became famous in the whole Crimea and Aksha-khan appointed him as his commander…
AKZHUNIS
Aksha-khan being all Crimean khan,
Had a beautiful daughter.
He would provide all her wishes
Whatever and whenever.
All his power,
All his wealth and his khan’s dignity
That’s the way he loved his daughter!
From merchants of faraway land
Special for her he bought a comb.
Carved in ivory tusk.
The sweet throat of a nightingale she had,
Her long hair shone like gold,
Her tender face was bright,
As played on the summer haze heat.
More beautiful than all her friends
Aksha-khan’s daughter was.
She had ruby lips, pearly teeth,
More pretty eyes,
Her eyebrow curved like a bow,
Every eyelash is as an arrow.
Like wheat flour she was all white,
As passed nine time through sieve,
Her bosom is high and round,
She was tall, stately and firm
Her hands with thinner fingers,
Like a young racehorse she was limber,
As a little horse she was easy,
All strong and all fast,
And she had a sharp tongue.
Just looking at her,
Men forgot all beauties near,
Were alienated forever,
The bold knights, daredevils.
Just looking at her in a jiffy
The old man could forget his age.
She was the prettiest of all,
She was the most playful of all,
Among all women she was the only one
True to her words along.
Her name was Akzhunis.
The beautiful Akzhunis fell in love with the brave dzhigit Targyn, but Aksha-khan against their marriage. But they caught the moment and ran away to the Kazakh steppe by riding.
Aksha-khan was very angry when he learned that his loving daughter had run away with a foreign dzhigit and announced that he would marry Akzhunis to the one who would catch them up and rend her from Targyn.
Many young batyrs and murzas responded to the khan’s cry and set off in pursuit. There was an old batyr Kartkozhak among them.
KART KOZHAK’S ENCOUNTER WITH FUGITIVES /RUNAWAYS
The horses are all tired long ago,
All dzhigits fell behind,
So turned their horses back long ago.
Even though they were ashamed of it,
They returned to the Crimea with nothing.
Only Kartkozhak didn’t fall behind,
His steed never got tired —
It was glorious Kaska-Azban.
It galloped only forward,
And was also steadfast.
Have passed so many days,
Have passed so many nights,
The Crimea was far away,
And caught up finally
The in love two runaways
The old batyr of krymchak —
The formidable knight Kartkozhak.
And Yer Targyn’s horse is Tarlan,
Cannot overtaken even by the wind,
Proudly raising its head,
The tail is fluffy spreading out,
Sensing the enemy’s catching up,
Started snorting with its ears pricked up.
Targyn knew his horse prophetic manner,
And the meaning of sensitive ears playing:
If Tarlan is snorting,
Then for no good is the meaning!
Targyn turned back,
Faraway he saw a black dot,
The dot was closer and closer.
Oh, means Tarlan wasn’t lying,
This was Kartkozhak catching up with him!
And then Targyn said:
«Oh, my faithful friend!
My black-haired, my silky-haired
The owner of most beautiful eyes, my Akzhunis!
You are more beautiful than all the Crimean maidens,
You are cleaner than all wives and maidens,
You should to know that we are in trouble!
In the hour of danger, I was always
Brave as a noble lion,
Fearless as a hungry lion,
The strongest as a tiger.
I was a winner in the games,
I was a winner in battles
And always went on the way of victories.
My strength has never failed me.
Only is strong God’s will
His hand is fatal:
He can crush my backbone,
Or can order my next steps,
Even kill me in the prime of life.
The horse gave me a warning sign
I turned back and saw the one,
Seems someone is riding to catch up us!
Though I can’t see yet who is exactly,
But I know that it’s old Kozhak!
He is like black tornadoes,
He’s like rockslides,
And as hard as a hardened steel.
His brow is as gloomy as a cloud,
He is gird by a roaring storm,
Ice hanged on his eyebrows,
His fierce look is like a snowstorm,
His onslaught is hawkish,
And sleeveless armour he is wearing.
If I rein in my horse,
He can beat me over.
I don’t want to be defeated,
And won’t let him have you, too!
If I ride any further,
He might think I’m a coward,
Never want to be called a coward…!»
With Akzhunus he had consulted,
And the follows Akzhunis advised:
«No! You should live up to your honour,
After all, you are a batyr, not a woman,
You are stronger enough,
And fight not bad, either!»
And Targyn replied her like this:
«You’re right, my Akzhunis!
I’m not afraid for myself – but for you, I worry much.
But if death is on our heels,
It will come here and there both.
If I am destined to fall,
Everywhere the earth will open its jaws!..»
Targyn overcame his fright,
He turned his warhorse,
And on his place he stopped dead.
His bow Targyn has inspected,
And his armour he has checked.
Meanwhile, the Kozhak’s horse,
The bald gelding Helmet-Azban,
Was approaching like a thunderstorm.
Eyes were burning under the visors,
And fire in veins and in bones:
If starts on its way at dawn
It will speed up only by sun!
Its mane like a whistling storm,
Its beautiful tail like a whirlwind.
It rode down the sharp mountain,
And here came like a hurricane.
Over its flank the wind whistles,
Under its hoof the ground beneath.
And on a horse as wild as a storm,
In his sleeveless armour
The undaunted man was sitting,
Over sixty years old looking.
In front of the runaways at full gallop
A dashing rider stopped.
At the rider Targyn here looked,
Not a young man in the saddle,
The gray-haired Aksakal1 was in the saddle!
There is a storm in his fearsome eyes,
A blizzard in his beard, in his moustache,
Ice hangs from his eyebrows,
The horse under him was Tulpar of blood-horse.
1Aksakal – an aged man
And Yer Targyn thought here:
«He is an aged man, like my father,
He can be same as my grandfather!»
And, bowing his proud stature,
The daredevil of endless steppes,
A young batyr and a runaway,
nicknamed as a wolf — Targyn
to the old man rode up, with respect,
Decency and observing the law of desert,
He bowed from his waist.
Er-Targyn looks at him and amazed:
Like a wide steppe,
The chest of a formidable old man is wide,
He is weighty and sound,
Like as a mud house.
On Targyn’s greeting as son
The old batyr bowed in response.
And then Targyn said:
«Hello, knight-aksakal!
I see you’ve ridden a difficult path,
You’ve crossed a lot of mountains,
You have crossed many valleys,
I can see batyr, your strength:
Your onslaught is swift as a storm,
As fierce as a steppe storm.
You swoop like an eagle golden,
you are zealous, and you attack like a falcon!
Who are you going to attack…?»
And that batyr, the aksakal,
To Yer Targyn replied the below:
«Akzhunis is my bright star,
My dream girl, my pride,
My beauty and my deary,
And you stole her and running away with her.
So, I’m chasing after her like an eagle!
I’ll go on you
Sharp girded with my spear,
And take your head off from your shoulder!
My old age is my fault,
But my fury is strong,
Hope the Lord will hold.
If death is on my heels,
There is no dispute with death.
But if death is delayed,
I’ll settle accounts with you, dzhigit,
I’ll take Akzhunis away,
That’s why I rode after you!»
And here Targyn replies:
«You are as a wall of impregnable rocks,
You are as mighty as mountain ranges,
Through which there are no passes,
You are as the hurricane that rushes through the pass
And sweeping away everything
I am a dzhigit, you are an aksakal,
But I’m not a meek slave
And not a timid little boy,
Just to give the girl to you away.
You are mighty, I am also not weak,
So, for my beauty and for my beloved
With a man like you, batyr,
I’ll fight as an equal,
«It’s me and my saying, but what about you?»
And the aksakal here says,
to Targyn in his response:
«Do you want to know who am I?
It’s me a dashing batyr,
And just like you, a kendyr .
I was born and grew up in the Crimea,
At its blooming shores and its multitude.
Yer-Kolik was my grandfather,
Koyanak was my father,
And I am Koyanak’s son-Kozhak!
I was a fame seeker since I was young,
I was ahead of the hunt of everyone,
On the countless army of enemies
I went alone, as I’m a brave man.
I have scattered their ranks,
I cut off their heads,
I fought against the thousands of enemies.
I am a mighty Kartkozhak! «
And Targyn replied as follows:
«My batyr, you are wise and aged,
And you’re burning like a fire.
You’re not in lack of power,
I see, a brave man you’re,
But don’t brag ahead
That Akzhunis you’ll take away!»
And Kozhak said here:
«Wish Alda will help me,
I will pierce you through
With my carved blade
I’ll take my long sword,
My white sword hanged on belt,
The gilded sword of steel
In your blood I’ll dip it.
I will hit you – gave no quarter!
Wish to be blessed here!
I see, you are not a coward,
Prove that you are a hero:
First will be my turn,
And then it’s your turn.
I’ll point the place ahead –
Where to I will hit!»
Er-Targyn then said:
«Let’s have it your way, Aksakal!
I’m not concerned about my skin-
So, take your turn, old man!…»
He plucked up the courage,
He did not succumb to fear,
And he remained stay in place,
Like a mature hare,
And blushed with rage all over,
Anger covered him like an armor.
Suddenly, as if he became wider,
his armor became tighter.
Here all of a sudden, the old man,
Felt the spirit of pity,
So, he spared Targyn!..
Kartkozhak drew his bow and shot an arrow at Targyn, but he aimed not to kill him and rated the bowstring strength, so that the arrow pierced eight layers of armor on Targyn, while the ninth layer remained intact.
The enraged Targyn wanted to shoot in his turn, but Kartkozhak stopped him:
«Oh, dear Targyn, do you really think that I could pierce through only eight layers of your armor, I didn’t have enough strength to pierce the ninth layer as well? No, you are mistaken, I deliberately rated my shot and generously spared your youth with hope that you would be convinced of my superior strength and give me Akzhunis without bloodshed. If you do not agree with this point, I will take my turn again to make my real shot, and this time the arrow will be fatal.»
Targyn thought for a while and understood that Kartkozhak was right, and that he cannot defeat the old batyr and he could ruin his life for nothing, in addition he would not get Akzhunis. And Targyn moved away to the side, as if defeated.
Seeing this, Akzhunis rushed to jump off her horse, covered her head with a kerchief and wept bitterly. Then Kartkozhak rode up to her and said followings:
«My beauty, you shouldn’t shed tears. Although I am old, I am not one of those old men who marry indiscriminately any girl. Show me your face, bare your waist, I will look at you closely: if I like you, I would marry you, if do not like you, then I do not need you for nothing, even if you are khan’s daughter.»
Akzhunis got offended, became angry and in her turn said follows to the old batyr:
A SONG BY AKZHUNIS
Hold yourself, Kartkozhak,
Hold your horse, Kartkozhak!
You’re hot, but you’re old, Kozhak!
I’m not the right couple for you,
I won’t show my face to you,
I won’t bare my waist for you,
And I will give this advice to you:
You’ve travelled a lot, thank God,
You’ve trampled on different roads, thank God,
You’ve seen many cities,
But, have you ever been to Bukhara?
Bukhara is the main of all capitals!
There’s a lot of good stuff in there.
And many curiosities there,
You should to go to Bukhara, old gentleman!
Oh, you’ll see that is great the Bukhara bazaar,
And you’ll see that is rich the Bukhara bazaar,
Silks are also very good in Bukhara.
Namely, Bukhara silk is so fluffy —
I’d like to keep long in my hand things silky!
If you know a lot about silk,
Take some Bukhara silk and run your hand over,
So, the same silky is my hair…
And go to visit the coiners,
A lot of gold buttons,
You will find in places there.
You should have looked at them, Kozhak –
So I could tell you the shape of my head!..
And to the scholar thou shalt come, —
A sharpened pen before him.
Oh, how wise is his speech.
Oh, how sharp is his pen!
Here thou remember my words,
and imagine my eyebrows:
My eyebrows are sharp same as that pen…
If you want to know about my nose
Hurry to Imran city, then.
Oh, the pistachios there are delicious!
You should choice the best ones,
Look at them and decide,
If shape of my nose is good or bad:
As a pistachio my nose looks like…
You’ll find mirrors everywhere,
You put up two mirrors near.
And imagine my eyes here:
Same they are round, they say,
Same they are bright, they say…
Go to Samarkand, also:
Many forges there, they say,
Anvils are crowded in a row:
If the anvils are fragile,
Then my teeth are not strong, either…
And go to visit the pullers,
To those that pull skillfully copper
Through the wire machines:
Look at that wire things,
So thin are my fingers…
If you go out into the field,
Then go to have a good look
on young bunnies:
On the grass how they play,
How they jump lightly!
And how their backs are so supple!
That’s the way my back is flexible,
And so my dance is easy…
And I can say here, else:
What is in the world the blackest?
What is in the world the whitest?
When on the black earth snow falls,
Have a look on that snow.
You would like the whitest snow,
So, the same my body is white,
The same my body is pure.
You would admire to see my snowy white body!
What is in the world of blood aley?
Shed blood on snow white,
You can compare my blush here,
with scarlet blood on the snow.
I was born in the azure Crimea,
On the green shore of the sea,
The noble khan Aksha-khan is my father.
I was with my mother,
And among the white, stout geese,
I grew up as a snow-white goose;
Among the fat-rumped sheep
I grew up as the sweetest lamb;
In the herds of frisky-white horses,
I grew up as a white mare,
White is my body and white-faced,
As the whitest of the milk steamed.
Oh, I was frisky,
Oh, I was jolly!..
Though China is far from the Crimea…
(Just imagine, how many months to go there!),
Once Chinese men, to the Crimea came,
To join the game.
And those Chinese men came to us,
One by one raved about my name…
Hold yourself, Kartkozhak,
Hold your horse, Kartkozhak!
Spare me, Kartkozhak!
Oh, it befell me unexpectedly,
A misfortune has attacked me here,
The thunderstorms were guarding me!
I am like a delicate rose,
Here around you shed my tears,
Holding your stirrup,
I beg thee like a slave:
If you are as said so noble,
As glorified among the people,
If you are a true batyr,
Will you reject my plea?
Will you destroy my fate?
Let me go with my betrothed!
It’s about five years,
Kartkozhak, you are making vine bows,
The horsehair and twine
On your own string you’ve woven,
Only the fine chiy you’ve used,
Goes furthest the arrow you’ve released,
The whistle of the arrow cares your ears.
Thou hast gained the glory as an archer, —
But your glory was without a horn !
At the age of ten, uh, Kartkozhak,
Your beshmet was as a poppy was red.
The sash glowed green.
You were stately and handsome,
You were look like a stallion,
But your glory was without a horn!
Uh, Kartkozhak, at the age of twenty,
You were a funny,
And you were a daredevil, they say!
Baring your knees to fight,
You were ready and always glad.
You were rich in sharp jokes,
And sharp as steel sword of words.
You’ve loved a lot of girls.
And the thimble of your lips
was a bait for them.
And you’ve made them fervid.
You were soon furious,
You’ve been fighting regardless,
For all rivals you’ve been a menace,
Like a camel mature,
You looked everyone in the eye bravely.
At the age of twenty you were a hero, —
But your glory was without a horn!
At the age of thirty, uh, Kartkozhak,
Became a mighty husband:
To death was your fist smashed,
You wore a copper helmet.
All over you shone with weapons,
All over you wore a chain mail armor,
And you held a hard spear,
And your horse on the loose roared,
On the grey horse you rode,
On the hot steed you rode,
Through valleys and mountains,
Across the wild steppes,
Exposing your chest to the winds,
Tirelessly prowled there,
And, fearless and daring,
Menacingly you whooped and whistled,
Fortresses to dust you have destroyed,
You attacked your enemies there.
Among them you struck fear.
But your glory was without a horn!
At the age of forty, uh, Kartkozhak,
Your fervour has not waned.
Like a mountain range,
You were just irresistible in every battle.
By a strong enemy the Crimea was attacked,
Then your motherland you’ve defended,
Both from the windward sides
And from the leeward sides
You stood upright like a keystone,
Your native hometown.
From the hills if there is a rumble,
As soon as breaks into the village the enemy
And to enter with them into the battle
Your shoulders you straighten,
And you fly towards them.
Against a thousand, you are your only friend,
You’re like a thousand of them,
And, than mountain blizzards more fearsome,
You sprinkle snow from your cheekbones and brow,
You’re freezing everything around you,
You turn the north into the south…!
Thou hast crushed a great number of foes.
But your glory was without a horn!
At the age of fifty, Kartkozhak,
Your step has become more dignified.
With pride and importance, the meetings you joined,
In debates you were calm and firm,
With eloquence you’ve shone,
You’ve become an experienced judge, —
At the age of sixty-five, Kozhak,
You are not a batyr, nor a leader,
You’re a lustful mule,
You have faded and dried up all over.
What are you bragging about here?
My ripe beauty,
My white-naked body,
The colors of my youth,
You longed for unrequited.
You shouldn’t hope in vain,
And shouldn’t dare dream about me
You will not get me!
Shall I forget my Targyn?
Shall I love an old man?
You can kill me right now,
I won’t be your wife!
You were young, you were boisterous,
You were mighty once,
You were great and you were wise,
And now, understand, you are old man,
The key of your strength is gone.
Kartkozhak, your head is about a long,
Almost filled with dry dung!..
Struck by the intelligence and courage of the young girl the old batyr Kartkozhak was not enraged for the insult, but knightly went back of his intention to separate Akzhunis from her beloved. The old man called Yer Targyn and said to him:
– My life is all behind, but yours is all ahead. I will not separate you – go wherever you want!»
Targyn and Akzhunis safely reached Yedil River (Volga) banks, crossed it and at last came to stay with Nogaily people. The Nogaili khan named Khanzada sent Targyn together with other three batyrs Karasay-uly -Koben, Alshagyr-uly-Tegen and Omir-uly-Seben to Kalmyk people living among Chagan River. Having seized Kalmyks, they stayed to watch the enemy leaving for the upper reaches of Chagan.
Targyn was observing and sitting on a bough of a tall oak tree. The bough turned out to be rotten and broke. Yer Targyn fell down awkwardly and injured his lumbar spine. Comrades brought Targyn to Nogaily on a peak stretcher.
In the meantime, Khanzada Khan decided to migrate with all the people from his summer pasture at the mountain Bulgyr-Tau to the Chagan River, that earlier was occupied by Kalmyks. Khanzada left the sick Targyn with his horse Tarlan and wife Akzhunis in old place but promised to come back for them as soon as they settled on the new lands.
A considerable amount of time has elapsed, but no one came for Targyn. The food reserves ran out and Targyn with Akzhunis began to starve. Feeling the approach of death, Yer Targyn composed a song saying goodbye to his beloved Akzhunis and his horse.
A SONG BY YER TARGYN
Bulgyr, Bulgyr-Tau you are mine,
You’re shrouded in darkness all around!
I’m devoted to adversities,
And separated from my people!
My grey horse of battle!
Everywhere shared my fate,
Here you are with me in danger.
Seems is dying your master.
You made up absence of all my people,
You’ve replaced the sun for me here.
Why are you shaking your head?
If only you could talk!
I have nothing to cure the spine,
So, minus a leg here I’m lying,
The bitter end awaits us here:
There is nothing to drink or to bite!
If only on you I could take a ride,
No matter how thin you got, poor boy,
You would take us home!
Where are you, all my friends?
If I die here,
Who would take away my bones,
Who would shroud me,
Who would bury me in a grave?
Like a beast a pain gnaws at me,
A deathly longing gnaws on me.
Grass looks so green in appearance,
Seems, I lie on the green grass,
Feel closer is my death,
I look at you with longing
Tarlan, you are my only friend!
I was no coward, of course,
I lived hero’s life, I was careless,
And relied on my own success.
I’ve lived a hero’s life,
I relied on my good fortune.
My life has flown by,
As a blizzard rustled away,
Seems very short on earth my days!
My star has set!
Hey, my beloved land,
Aschily-Togai and Ala-Bas,
You are my golden horde,
The irretrievable Kara-Tash!
Hey, my horse, Tarlan!
Remember the old day that,
When you rode in black sweat,
Through the steppes and mountains,
Through the ravines and valleys
And along the paths between the rocks,
When the enemy was near us,
When we were almost captured?
Not like a timid one,
Not like a low simple one,
That seeks the easier way,
You’ve crossed the valleys,
You’ve jumped over the ravines,
Rashly you took grades,
You flew without a backward glance,
And, not knowing fear, Tarlan,
You’ve been so resourceful and daring!
If I did not pamper you?
If I did not shoe you,
With the new, silver-ringing,
Moon-shaped horseshoes?
Remember, wasn’t it you who took me away,
Across the great river Volga bay?
There cracked under you more than once
Volga river’s blue ice,
That thin autumn ice.
But you’ve never stumbled,
And even never slipped.
No permanent the good luck for us,
Not forever is destined the happiness.
And bad luck would also fall out to us,
If there’s someone who loves, you
His heart is always with you
And if you’re in trouble or in strife
He would even spare no life
And would help you out,
In your hour of need
But a stranger means a stranger,
If in a big trouble you’re,
He is a stingy for care.
A horse corns he would serve in the battle
To the wounded batyr,
But if you can’t sit after first try,
He won’t come back for you…
Hey, pigeons, cute pigeons,
Blue-winged pigeons,
You’re circling in the wilderness,
Looking for food, for grains,
How long have I been like you’re,
Gathering my friends,
And strapping to the saddle a badan ?
On Tarlan I used to jump,
Prowled across the steppe and fought,
I beat the enemies of Nogaily,
I chased them up to Chagan!
I prowled like a wolf hardened,
I fought like a hero lion
Even was crippled at that time.
But you left without me,
There was no honour for me,
Having migrated to Chagan,
You threw me here,
To die on the damp ground.
My star has rolled away!
Hanzada has deceived me,
I will never forgive his deceit,
I’ll never forget it.
I had friends many,
But now I am alone and lonely.
Those who called me «Targyn»
My food with whom I shared,
Hardships in battle with whom I shared,
About friendship they all have forgotten.
Hey, Koben Karasay-uly,
Hey, Teben Alshagir-uly,
Hey, Seben Omir-uly!
Where are you my friends, my eagles?
Why don’t you help me like a brother?
Why don’t you help me to out the trouble?
Instead you’re all covered your tracks.
Hey, you shameless Nogaily people!
How could you forget,
When shoulder to shoulder with you we stand,
And against the Ayauke horde,
we fought so hard?
Remember how we dared,
the enemy forces from their land seized,
How then we rejoiced
How then we feasted!
And remember how the deer
Was running with its fawn there;
Koyanak-uly Kartkozhak
Released his arrow at the fawn,
But couldn’t kill the animal:
The fawn was slightly limping,
After it’s father then running.
Then at the male I shot,
The male has fallen dead!
My arrow pierced it’s through,
And arrow’s red-hot end
Dug into a roadside stone!
The competition here has started:
Koyanak-uly was first tried,
To draw out my arrow;
but no success, even he did his best.
All other boys also tried,
All by one and all together tried again.
Forty horsemen, forty of strongmen,
But it was impossible to draw it out!..
Days full of fun, where are you?
I’ve squandered my life, waly!
Oh, the bluebird of happiness,
If you left me forever?
I cry bitterly when I remember the past,
My heart burns when I remember the past.
I’ve lived a short life
In battles I multiplied deeds,
I’ve destroyed many enemies!
Forever you would remember, Seben,
White-skin Ivan’s son,
Bearded Ivan’s son,
And my last dashing raid,
Your horses when I’ve seized
At Aznau-town!
Eh, was good the booty,
My soul was merry!
I remember still today,
After having made a hike successful
I came back home happily,
I sharpened my axe,
I chopped my willows,
I tied the raft of willows.
Great you are, the river Volga!
From the beginning to end,
Your six-month route,
I sailed on my raft,
Wide you are, the river Volga!
On Tarlan horse for many times
Volga river, I’ve crossed you,
Volga river, I’ve cut across you,
And fought with Kalmyk people…
Akzhunus, my dear friend,
My wife beloved!
Your curly hair ringed,
Your eyebrows are arrow-shaped,
Your cheeks are like blooming poppy.
Are you really will faded?
Are you really become,
A slave, a prisoner of the enemy?
If the foe will rejoice really?
Oh, Tarlan, my faithful horse,
Friend of irrevocable days!
You are kin to me than all my relatives,
For the most noble of horses,
I will never change you!
My rouser, you’re so sad,
You’re tired of the lariat,
No ride, no gallop, and you’re bored,
No food, you’re skinny
Even move slow your body!
If a young reed only,
With tender, fresh leaves
Grew up in front of you suddenly!
Oh, God gave me no children,
So, they could get you drink!
If only, Tarlan, my friend,
Kara-Tau from its icy spring,
Suddenly flow in front of you,
Would be so refreshing,
If only right here and now,
Appear a green meadow before you!…
Seeing that the minutes of her beloved friend are running out, Akzhunis decided to show the last honor to dying husband and praised her days gone, Targyn’s yesteryear and his war horse Tarlan’s past in song. She sang about Targyn’s unfortunate fate who is dying not as a hero on the battlefield, but on the deserted nomad camp, lonely and abandoned by recent friends, insidiously deceived by an ungrateful khan. Hearing the song by Akzhunis, Yer Targyn was so agitated that he decided to either die immediately or regain his health and life. He got up immediately like an enraged lion, grabbed the dislocated lower back with both hands, pressed with all his might and set the twisted vertebra back.
Akzhunis firmly tied up Targyn’s lower back, helped him to get on Tarlan and took a seat near to handle the horse. So she delivered him to the Nogayli land.
Yer Targyn completely recovered very soon and decided to leave Nogaily people and go elsewhere. But at this time, the Kalmyk warriors led by Dombaul batyr attacked the Nogaily people. Hete Nogaily people again came to Targyn, begging him to protect them from the enemy. Yer Targyn declined a great while, but at last assented to requests and rushed alone to the attack against Kalmyks.
FIGHTS AGAINST DOMBAUL
Targyn saw the enemy’s army,
It was getting closer.
His girths immediately he checked,
White and yellow flag raised.
The fringe has rung
On his steel made armor,
The horsetail jingled
On his leaped horse.
In his word rumbled thunders,
Snow scattered his eyebrows,
Ice frozen on his eyelashes,
He became all like a severe frost.
As mighty as cliffs his shoulders,
And pulling tight the bow
a pair of mighty, long arms
Can stop the giant kulan ,
To the watering hole running.
Such a fellow was Targyn!
«Well, Kalmyk, come out to fight, —
I’ll fight against you, I’m Yer Targyn.»
Saying this he jumped on Tarlan.
If Tarlan starts run in the morning,
Only by the evening he will take a run.
If the way is blocked by a mountain,
No touching with its feet the ground,
It jumps, it’s taking a run,
And jumps over the mountain!
Fire from its nostrils,
Better don’t touch when it at gallop,
If you interrupt its free and wild run,
It’ll start crying like a man;
If it soars under the saddle,
It won’t gallop, but fly like an eagle;
In six jumps it can take,
A long distance of month’s way.
Having heard the enemy’s rustling,
It gets in sweat all black and glistening,
Playing with sensitive ears,
Above highest hills like a bird it flies,
It won’t stumble, it won’t fall
When it comes across the rocky stone,
Every trace of its hooves is stamped
As into the stone it driven,
So, a path through the rocks opens.
Such a horse was Tarlan!..
With a fringe of the armor ringing
Straight forward to the enemy driving
The fiery horse,
Swoop in like a whirling storm,
As if became violent,
The undaunted Yer Targyn.
Yer Targyn here sees a ravine:
» Come out to battle, enemy!..»
To the max all armed,
In steel armor dressed,
On a giant horse, on a racer blue-starred,
Jumped out to meet him,
Proudly exposing his adam’s apple,
Dombaul-batyr from Kalmyk.
And the giant-batyr Dombaul says,
To Yer Targyn follows:
«My power is rampant in me now.
If I want, I’ll shoot you,
If I want, I’ll stab you,
Very easy for me to defeat you!
You, Nogaily, who are you waiting for?
Whom are you, dzhigit, fighting with?
Tell me, what your name is?»
And Targyn said to him:
«I am fearless and quick,
Like wild mountains wind,
Among the peaks freely blowing
I’m a stranger to any shield.
So be it, I’ll tell you my name.
Get it through your head:
I am your father , your cruel bane,
You can call me Targyn!
As a black raven before me,
You are working up in vain.
Thirst for the feat of grief,
I was looking for a fight with you.
Let’s fight one to one!»
That’s what Targyn said to him.
And answered Dombaul,
And the reply was like the wind rumble:
«By the wind of lofty mountains
Till now alone, I was roaming,
You have enraged me to the point of trembling,
But, Batyr, you’re younger than me,
So, the first turn is mine…!»
Targyn prayed to his God
And here thought:
«I’m not a woman,
Not a weak child, even,
Not for the first time with the enemy fighting,
I’m batyr Targyn, I’m not a coward:
At least I’ve lost here,
So, I will give him the first turn !..
He turned round,
And in front of the enemy stood still.
And that mighty Kalmyk
boldly stepped forward,
He puts his hand in the quiver,
and takes a cunning arrow,
that flying not somehow
But with outlined its own path;
He takes up his tight bow.
With a silk bowstring,
And he shoots that arrow
over Tarlan’s head,
above the bow of the golden saddle.
And an arrow plunges
to Yer Targyn’s right chest,
Into his very atrium.
the nest of his life and death.
Targyn’s armor in nine layers,
An arrow pierced through eight layers,
Yer Targyn at that moment
Was very close to call,
Could kill him the Kalmyk.
But Targyn’s seventh ancestor
Heeded his prayer,
So, helped him the ringed collar.
And Targyn then said:
«Dombaul, you are a dog fierce!
I have heard your praise,
I was trying my fate, —
My God took death away from me.
The embroidered coat on your horse,
So, your horse’s harness glitters
Your armour is fastened,
The steel visor on your forehead…
I say to thee thus:
If my strength holds me.
And my hand will not wither, suddenly
I’ll release an arrow at you,
You’ll gasp out your life right here!
Kalmyk, stay still in front of me!»
Yer Targyn became enraged,
He whistled wildly and whooped,
And shouted a moto like all heroes:
«Give me luck, oh God!»
His blood run hot.
Immediately he was surrounded by
his great-grandfathers all around.
He put his hand into the quiver,
He took a handful of arrows,
He took aim, had the foe into his sight.
Over the horse’s head,
Over Kalmyk’s saddle,
Above his high bow.
With his batyr-hero hand
He draws his bow tight,
And an arrow flies, whistling,
Pierced at chest, pierced at Dombaul,
Breaking through one by one
All layers of his armor,
The arrow pierces,
Like a snake’s sting,
Into his very atrium.
The nest of both his life and death,
An arrow through him flies,
Behind the hill it reaches,
Destroys the hill to ashes!
Here Kalmyk dropped the banner,
Shouting: «Dalai Lama!»
He fell dead from the saddle.
The Kalmyk army stirred,
An immediate council they hold,
On their horses they jumped,
And Targyn was surrounded.
BATTLE WITH KALMYKS
And Yer Targyn stopped for a while
And thought:
«There are seven thousand of them, but I am alone.
Oh, Lord, please help me,
There is no other protection for me!
A multi-thousandth enemy
Can I break them alone?
Can I defeat them alone?
And if I die – so be it!
Only my honor is dear for me!
You, my red-hot arrow,
You, my bone-tipped arrow
You, my golden, carved
Four-toothed bow!
Our peacefully leisure time is gone, –
Help me out, my faithful friend!
If my arm strength fails me.
and I cannot pull thee here,
for it I’ll be damned!
And if you can’t stand my strength,
And suddenly break down,
For it you’ll be damned!
You, my other military friend,
That cutting through the chain mail,
And taking off the heads from the shoulders,
My steel, long sword,
My six-inch sword,
Like a beast thirsty for blood,
Why are you sleeping in a scabbard?
Or with former cuts blood
Are you still stuffed?
The time has arrived to draw you out!
If I do not exert all my strength,
If I don’t turn out my shoulders,
If I do not swing widely with you,
If I do not rush towards the enemy,
Then I should better take great pains,
Me, Yer Targyn, will be damned!
But if among the all enemies
At least one survives,
But you will stop chopping the enemy,
Even though my hand is not tired,
Damn you then, my sword!
You are my six-sided spear!
On your hilt of pine tree,
Carrying a motley banner,
Thou sharpened, two-bladed,
Smashed enemies more than once,
Amused friends more than once.
If I don’t run atilt against the enemy,
If holding you don’t rush into the midst of enemies,
If I do not cause them death
A rag is then my banner,
Let the women laugh at me,
I’ll be damned forever!
But if thou shalt fail,
Or if you are just tired,
If you can’t stand the fight,
And you would fall out the hilt
Or your hilt is broaken,
Thou, my spear, be cursed!…
My broad-chested horse,
High-headed horse,
You’re as fast as a hurricane,
Tarlan, you are s tried-and-true friend!
We can’t play soldiers with the enemy:
I am alone, they are a whole army.
Listen to what I’m telling you:
There must be a mortal struggle, I admit,
A great race, I admit,
I ask you to double, even triple your speed!
If you can slip through the enemy’s lines,
If we sweep away the enemies to the ground,
My gratitude to you I will demonstrate,
Oh, my dear servant.
I’ll reward you with grain selected,
I’ll dress you in brocade and velvet!
But if I fall from the saddle,
With no raging myself out on the enemy,
Let be cursed my affairs,
Let be cursed my hero deeds,
And I’m Targyn,
by myself I’ll be damned, too!
But if you at least for a while,
Make a pause for breath during the strife,
You, my Tarlan, be damned, too!.
And in all his military glory,
Took off his gold-woven gear,
Targyn got off his horse,
Pulled tight his sash,
All the armor he checked,
And the girth he tightened,
The crupper strap shortened.
After all, he had no kin,
He had no friend,
So, ho would help him now?
Only helper is the God!
If the Lord gives a good outcome,
He will defeat these enemies, also.
And these as well as others,
As soon as he upon them rushes,
Their heart will turn to ice!
And a surge of fabulous energy
Yer Targyn felt it in himself.
And the batyr jumped on the saddle,
The batyr shouted in anger,
With a whip the horse he warms,
And shouts, flying upon enemies.
Great anger seized him,
The Kalmyks surround him.
He rushes at them at point-blank range.
How will be resolved the unequal tussle?
His yellow and white symbol
Splashes, strapped to his peak
And his travel pouch, too.
Eyebrows frowning like a storm,
And speeding up, Targyn,
Ploughed into the enemy’s line.
He attacked them from the lunar side,
He attacked them from the sunny side.
He is alone, like an adult wolf,
that attacked a sheep flock,
He chases enemies and cuts them down,
He maims them and kills them,
He stabs all on his left,
cuts down all on his right.
Like a river runs the enemy’s blood,
The dead are no longer counted.
When is this fight end?
Tarlan gnawed in his mouth the bit,
Tarlan rides in a black sweat,
The sweat is dripping as frequent rain,
Tarlan is wheezing, patience wore thin.
And the fight is still hot
And the whip lashes the horse’s hip.
And though for himself the batyr gasps,
But turning out again his shoulders,
On his tulpar he is riding,
With a spear he strikes enemies.
Trampling the dead and the living,
He does not give to rest his enemies.
Targyn replaces his spear to a dagger,
And struck his enemies with a dagger.
If he catches up any enemy, cuts him,
He is gnashing of teeth is terrible,
Yer-Targyn looks so fierce,
Look like sheep all the enemies,
And everyone tries to hide.
No one among them has the courage
To look Targyn in the face.
He changes the dagger for a sword.
He takes his six-inch sword,
Tore the enemy’s heads off by batyr,
Mows down the Zhalbardy men by batyr
And he does not give the horse a break,
And he does not give the enemy a break.
Six days have passed – here comes the seventh,
Targyn still beats his enemies
The eighth day also comes,
For Kalmyks a black night dawns.
Tarlan walked away to take some breath,
Now Tarlan came up with a bang,
Making a sharp comeback.
And for Targyn the hour has arrived
To go through paces in the best light.
He takes off his gigantic bow,
On every arrow released
Kalmyks are down knocked.
Without a miss, Yer Targyn strikes.
He heard only screams and groans.
The ninth day here comes,
A day fraught with a new victory.
His gun, here Batyr takes,
With cast lead he shoots enemies,
Fire after fire, smoke after smoke.
Already by himself, Targyn
Was heavy to breath in the thick black smoke.
But he didn’t stop shooting.
It was a happy day for him:
He shot his enemies to death,
He made a big mess,
So, he terrified his enemies.
Who is still alive, somehow
They run away from him to a ravine.
It is impossible for a batyr to get off a horse,
He does not want his reputation to damage,
Also, cannot sated his vengeance.
The batyr jumps days and nights,
The batyr is tearing his enemies to shreds,
He was very angry.
Eleven times the dawn was lighting,
The eleventh dawn was gloaming.
No matter what kind of tulpar Tarlan was,
Only without a break rushing around,
Wrapped in a cloud of steam, Tarlan
finally, very exhausted.
Batyr felt the horse’s neck,
The under-thigh fat became soft.
The batyr looked at Tarlan’s feet.
Tarlan was neither sick nor old,
Tulpar began to fall on its feet,
At last completely stiff.
To his horse, the batyr got angry,
He whipped the horse hardly,
He kicked also in the sides,
Whistled with a terrible hiss:
«If we don’t obtain success,
If we don’t beat the enemy at all,
If my arm is not tired,
Will you betray me, my horse?
Cheerfully neigh and do not wheeze my horse,
Serve me, be patient, my horse,
Keep up your spirit, my Tarlan.
Rush like a whirlwind across the steppe, Tarlan!»
No matter how Targyn’s horse was tired,
It galloped again, even not feeling feet,
It could tear down a big caravan!
It was getting dark. The night fell black.
The twelfth dawn was rising,
The red sun rose again.
Batyr searches for his enemies,
But there is none of them.
He looks around again,
Batyr can’t believe himself
He could vanquish the enemy completely:
The dead are in his eyes rippling.
Targyn gave a look over his horse:
Instead of its big hooves,
Now there’s only a thimble left,
Of its entire wool
there was only the undergrowth of fur.
Of the lips that were as long hem,
barely left for two fingers long.
Of its long, sharp ears,
like the reed tails,
Only four fingers long remained.
And of its curly mane
was only an inch on the top.
Its beautiful lush tail,
was now as docked flake.
Its round body became bony,
and it was like a dead,
Tarlan was all over wounded,
There were seventeen wounds on it!
But the horse has also a keeper.
Alda is saved it from death.
No feeling it’s wounds,
it was cheerful and zealous,
The horse pulls the rein,
The horse is playing, it’s bit gnawing,
And rushes forward as a prompt trot.
And Targyn if press its sides
Or with his whip lightly lashes,
And touches the reins slightest
And the tired horse Tarlan
Once more takes such a stride.
It can easily outrun
all those running on the ground.
Targyn sits on Tarlan proudly.
The battlefield, Targyn looks around,
At this early hour Targyn rides,
On a dry grass he tramples,
Behind him, he raises dust
He rides and a sad song sings,
He feels pity for the killed enemies.
He came back home with the first star,
The vii and murza led by Khanzada
And all other Nogaily people,
bowed low to him,
Everyone was praising him.
Then Nogaily arranged a celebration.
From sheer joy Khanzada khan promised to marry his daughter to Targyn. But, again the wily khan deceived Targyn. Targyn became angry and left with Akzhunis for the Crimea. He decided to make peace with Aksha-khan, got an army together in the Crimea and take revenge on Khanzada. But Khanzada got scared and sent his Golden Horde friends with lots of gifts to talk with Targyn. Targyn returned and lived at Zhan-Arystan and Ush-Targyn areas, and later became khan himself.