The Epic "Manas". The Childhood of Manas

Childhood of Manas

Hey!
Time flowed day by day,
And not by days, but by hours
In Altai grew the Great Fool.
Since the moment he saw the light,
Eight years quickly flew by.
Manas was a tall boy,
He did not resemble his peers:
Sometimes he carried stones weighing a pood,
Then suddenly, in strength and wrestling,
He would arrange a tournament for himself,
Then dive into an icy pond,
Running somewhere like a madman,
Then suddenly he would fight with someone.
Chiyrdy cannot understand
Whether his son is healthy or sick.
He has completely gone off the rails.
And if he has set his mind on something,
No one can hold him back.
Such a boy, Jakyp has never seen
In his lineage before.
Disobeying his father and mother,
He began to run away from home,
To frolic in the mountains.
From all the camps and houses,
He gathered Kyrgyz boys.
With his fighting company,
They played war among themselves.
Clearing the thickets and stumps,
They fought in the ordo.
And one day in their land,
To show their strength,
A gang of young Kalmyks
Decided to knock the Kyrgyz down a peg,
To remind them who the master is here.
Taking sticks and belts in hand,
They came to the ordo where they were playing,
Grabbed Manas by the chest,
Gathered the little ones — the kids,
Some were hit in the face,
Others received kicks.
Whoever was in the circle on horseback,
Received blows on the back.
— Kyrgyz! To battle! — shouted Manas.
He struck a Kalmyk between the eyes,
Another one he hit on the head.
And then all forty Kyrgyz,
Like a well-coordinated fighting squad,
Surrounded the Kalmyks in a ring,
And easily beat them up right there,
And they fled in all directions.
And the news spread through the mountains,
That the landlord's son, the Great Fool,
Had beaten the Kalmyk boys.
They feared that now a feud
Would start again between the clans.
And landlord Jakyp said to his wife:
— I see our son is not wise,
And against his own clan
He is turning enemies against us.
For how many years among the Kalmyks
I saved my life from hunger,
I cherish northern Altai —
A rich and fertile land.
And here, for centuries, lives
The kind and hardworking people.
And the son of Boena, Khan Chayan,
Respected me as a friend
And gave his own daughter Bakdolet
In marriage for me.
I fear that our Great Fool
Will quarrel us with our neighbors.
From the land where we found refuge,
We will have to flee again.
And all the good that I have amassed,
Will immediately turn to dust,
And the cattle that I raised here,
Will end up in someone else's hands.
We need to get our son away

From people.
Let him go to Oshpur
And there increase our cattle.
Jakyp called Manas:
— We are the poorest, you see,
We cannot rise from poverty.
There are no cows, no horses,
Only a few sheep
Count among my flock.
At the wealthy Oshpur, my son,
Stay in the mountains as a shepherd.
You will graze calves there,
In spring you will receive,
Thirty little lambs.
And soon Jakyp's son
Was taken to Oshpur on the summer pasture.
— I ask you, my Oshpurbay,
Watch over our son,
Be strict with his thoughtless pranks
And do not give him a pass,
And raise my son to be a hardworking man,
Oshpur!
And Jakyp, grieving in his soul,
Set off home in tears…
Manas spent five years in the mountains —
Five years he diligently grazed calves.
He turned twelve.
From the mountain shepherds,
He gathered mischievous youths.
In tournaments, in strength and wrestling,
They competed among themselves,
On short donkeys
They went into battle.
Sewing a red banner from rags
And shouting the cry "Manas! Manas!",
They went on a military campaign
As a mischievous gang.
They roasted shashlik on a spit,
Settled down by the fire,
And snored in unison until morning.
To visit his son,
Jakyp came to the summer pasture.
And here Oshpur told everything.
About how his son Manas,
Gathering the Kyrgyz around,
Eats five lambs a day;
That if it goes on like this,
All the livestock will be consumed;
All day from morning he plays at war
And, shouting "Manas! Manas!",
For our neighbors to see,
Leads the boys behind him.
— What if Esenkhan finds out
That your son, the Great Fool,
Has been named Manas since childhood?
He will find your son
And kill him before everyone's eyes!
And immediately, taking his son with him,
Jakyp rode home.
Below they saw:
Herds galloping away,
And the cries of Kyrgyz were heard.
Ten young Kalmyks,
Catching up with the herder in the mountains,
Were beating him with whips with all their might.
— Why are they beating the Kyrgyz,
Whose herds are they driving away? —
The Great Fool asked his father.
— All these horses are mine.
And they beat the herder
Because I did not pay enough
For the pastures on the slopes of the mountains, —
Such was the agreement before.
And then Manas learned that
Oshpur was not a wealthy man —
He served Jakyp as a shepherd.
He rushed to the herd of landlord Jakyp,
To get his herd back.
A Kalmyk named Kortuk
Suddenly struck his father with a whip.
Manas could not stand this:
Grabbing the noose of a rope,
He split Kortuk's skull,
Knocking him down with one blow.
The Kalmyks rushed at him,
But immediately, receiving a blow,
One fell, then another.
Manas's father held him back:
— Do not touch them, my son, calm down!
For Kortuk's death — blood for blood
They may take revenge cruelly!
We must go to the Kalmyks
With a humble head
And pay a kun for the death.
Then Manas said to him:
— The Kangays humiliate us!
I cannot endure this!
I will go to battle for my people,
My cry is one — "Manas! Forward!"
From Esenkhan in those lands
The khan Kochku was the governor.
As soon as the news reached the mountains,
That in the summer pasture a Kyrgyz shepherd
Had beaten his men alone,
Had killed Kortuk dead,
Kochku gathered his men,
Under the screams of women and children
He began to crush the Kyrgyz.
Driving the herds from the entire region,
They stole the cattle and horses.
— Ungrateful you, burut!
We sheltered you here,
But your shepherd, the Great Fool,
Killed Kortuk, the villain!
Find him and return him to us!
The news will reach Esenkhan
About how you hid from us,
That you named your son Manas,
He will come here tomorrow
And kill your son.
Give us your fool,
Otherwise, I will spill your blood! —
Screamed the enraged Kochku.
And suddenly the cry "Manas!" rang out,
And forty young daredevils,
Aiming their spears at Kochku,
Closed in a tight ring.
Kochku wanted to drive away the daring boys
With his sword,
But then Manas struck Kochku
Directly in the side with his spear,
And he and his company
Immediately took to their heels.
Jakyp was not pleased with this
And began to reproach his son:
— The Kyrgyz living here,
Will start driving us out of Altai.
And your pranks, fool,
Will not lead us to good!
A new feud will begin!
But then Akbalta intervened:
— You asked God for a son —
And he rewarded you.
And if your son is a rascal,
Then everything will pass with time,
Let him just grow a little.
As soon as we gain strength,
We will return to our native lands:
Although Altai is blessed for us,
It is a hostile land for us.
And if our Great Fool
Bravely took his shield and sword,
Then it means he has become Manas.
He will protect us from enemies,
Restore our freedom and honor
And stand up for his people!
Everyone agreed with Akbalta
And began to live with one dream:
To return to their homeland as soon as possible.

Epic "Manas". Birth of the Hero