Page 44 - ELES BOOTUR (2)

4 2 PETR OGOTOEV

A strong wind blew,
A whirlwind began to turn,
A violent storm wailed.
It whirled and whirled
Days and nights,
Grass bent down,
Thick larches bowed down,
Tops of larches mixed up,
Birds and animals hid
Deep in their holes.
Roar and wail of the wind
Was so awful
That the life stopped
In the Middle World,
You would think,
Plants and trees diminished.

You would think,
Ninety-nine unfreezing seas,
Eighty-eight deep oceans,
Countless powerful rivers
Are highly whirled up,
It came down violently to
Ravines, valleys and meadows
Turning them to wide lakes
Being in the threshold of disaster,
Being on the very eve of ruin
Innumerable cuckoos stopped crying.
All the doves passed away,
Swift birds flew to the heaven
Saving their souls,
Brave hawks disappeared
Into the space,
Herds of trottery frightened,
Hastened into the depth of forests,
Shy, goggle-eyed fast horses
Ran away to all directions,
Tender-hearted ones
Drowned into the quagmires,
Ignorant ones