Page 56 - ELES BOOTUR (2)

5 6 PETR OGOTOEV

Having come to grips, grasping each other,
Shouting out, they pushed and pulled
Like two furious lions.
Their eyes flashed fire,
Their faces flamed with rage,
Their fingers sounded like a thunder,
Their bones crunched loudly,
Their footsteps shook the foundation
Of the Low World.
The sound of their fists
Raised the cross beam
Of the Upper World.
The place where they pulled each other
Turned into a deep depression,
The place where they pushed each other
Turned into an awful ditch,
The place where they jumped
Turned into hillocks here and there.
Mountain range was trampled
Like a wet grass,
Rocks were ruined
Like a frozen birch bark,
The Middle World was disturbed
Like water in a bucket,
The blessed World was troubled
Like water in a tray,
Ravines turned into hills,
Hills turned into ravines.
Heels raised a snow storm,
Feet raised a boiling whirlwind,
The place where they battled
Turned into a sucking in bog,
Their blood flowed like a river.
They were really worthy rivals
Standing firmly on feet
To contend and to wrestle
During thirty days and nights,
But none of them outweighed.
Both of them were hot-tempered,
Great and disreputable.