Page 127 - ELES BOOTUR (2)

ELES BOOTUR 111

The sunny tribe became
Blind and deaf, to my sorrow!
The only thing to console me
Are my tears. Oh, what to do ?
I’ve never dreamed
I’ll have such a fate,
Nobody has forseen
I’ll be suffering so much.
The only dream before my death
Is to have a glance
At my beloved friend,
Eles Bootur for a moment,
Then I’ll be able to endure suffers,
I’ll compare a death with a deep sleep!”
Eles Bootur the Great
Having heard it
Pushed the stone stove.
The grasping stove
Not moving from its place
Turned round heavily.
Under the stove
There was a dark gap
But he made out stairs
Going down into blackness.
Coming down the steps
He understood: it was a prison
Grown musty, lit sparingly
In the dim comer
From the screened sun.
Gazing at the dim comer,
Straining every nerve
He saw his beloved wife
Tied together to a black post
Quite alone in tears
Was sitting suffering.
Eles Bootur the Great
In the twinkling of an eye
Crashed an iron chain
Like a frozen grass.
Falling into each other’s arms