Page 113 - ELES BOOTUR (2)
P. 113

ELES BOOTUR                                                                          97










                                               Protecting the divine people,
                                               Respecting the Sun people,
                                               Having a plentiful life
                                               And warm breathing.


                                                    Kuogeldjin the Witch

                                               You, Eles Bootur
                                               Having Black Bear Horse
                                               Prick up your keen ears,
                                                Listen to my words!
                                                Slow down your ardour,
                                                Stop your courage,
                                               Thinking of a death
                                                Behave yourself.
                                                Keeping advice of Sung Djasyn11
                                                In your tiny brain,
                                                Be careful!
                                                Urung Aar Toion
                                                Has sent divine milk
                                               To be used at the last moment,
                                                Open your mouth, please!”
                                                Having uttered it
                                                She threw the divine milk
                                                Into his throat.
                                                Eles Bootur the Great
                                                Feeling ten times stronger,
                                                He swelled up.
                                                Ready to pull out the bile
                                                Of Eos Tardar,
                                                Shrieking out violently
                                                He rushed and saw:
                                                It was a cursed place
                                                Full of groan and howl,
                                                Misfortunes and troubles,
                                                Gone man doesn’t come back,
                                                Fallen one doesn’t get up,
                                                Smelling sharp and
                                                Pungent smell was constant,
                                                Sickly sweet odour spread,
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