Epic "Manas". Return from the Great Campaign. Part - 2

Epic 'Manas'. Return from the Great Campaign. Part - 2

Return from the Great Campaign. Part - 2


When they passed the Great Wall of China,
They settled down for a rest,
Suddenly someone in the distance saw,
That behind them a horse was coming,
The rider lay, embracing the horse,
The helmet and armor shone in the sun —
And everyone recognized: it was
The horse of Almanbet — Sarala.
— My Almanbet! You are alive, dear!
Has God truly forgiven me,
If you have returned alive? —
Manas cried out with joy
And, despite the wounds and pain,
Ran to meet his friend.
Not letting go of the reins,
With his hand on Sarala's neck
Lay the lifeless Almanbet.
It seems the Chinese land
Did not accept his remains —
For having left his native land,
The power-hungry wayward son,
Gathering the armies of a foreign land,
Waged war against his own people
And caused so many lives to perish!
And if God forgave him,
The fate of the Kyrgyz will not forgive —
It will take revenge on the descendants for a long time…
Having buried the hero here,
They threw a handful of earth,
And, sorrowfully bowing their heads,
The Kyrgyz moved towards Talas.
The horse of Almanbet Sarala
Was left alone by the hill,
And tears fell from brown eyes
On the grave of the rider.
And on the stretchers among the horses
From his wound er-Manas groaned.
Behind him, laden with goods,
With silk, gold, and silver,
The camel caravan trudged along.
— Why all this crap for me?
Did I shed blood for this?
Did I lose thousands of people
In fierce battles for this?
This dust is not worth a life!
If I brought not victory, but misfortune
To my people.
Forgive me, my Tengir, in the heavens! —
He asked God in his delirium.
— You cannot bring the dead back to life,
Do not torment your heart with loss,
It was destined to be, it seems.
The people will wait for victory.
Hero, do not lose your spirit! —
Said Manas's brother Bakai.
Manas, with a weakening hand,
Embraced wise Bakai,
Promised not to lose heart,
Asked to send messengers ahead
And inform, so the people would know,
How their campaign ended.
He sent a letter to Kanykey
About being wounded in battle,
And asked to meet with his son in her arms
His beloved.
Receiving Manas's letter,
Kanykey wept bitterly:
— And if he was wounded in the back,
Then it means the terrible dream has come true.
Chubak! Syrgak! Our Almanbet!
It seems you are not in this world either!
And, pressing the baby to her chest,
Kanykey went to meet him.
Manas recognized from afar
His wife with a child in her arms,
Gathered all the strength he could,
Put on his helmet and ak-olpok,
On his fierce battle horse
Rode out to meet his wife.
— Have you really returned alive
From Beijing, my lord!
But where, tell me without hiding,
Is your glorious retinue? —
Kanykey asked through tears.
— I beg you, my beloved,
Do not torment my soul,
Quickly bring my son
Into my embrace!
For him, in a cruel hour,
God himself saved me from death! —
Manas pleaded with his wife.
But Kanykey was firm —
She did not give Manas his son!
And Kanykey had known before:
Manas is watchful over children,
And if he looks at the child —
No one will save him from death.
There is a black spot under his eye,
His green eyes burn
With a special flame.
And Manas cannot look
At his own child.
Taking the whip from Manas's hands,
She pressed it to the baby's forehead.
The father took the sacred whip,
Held it to his chest, kissed it.
(Er-Manas never saw
His own son until death).
When they arrived in Talas,
People gathered from everywhere
To meet the warriors returning from the campaign.
Aruuke came out in distress,
Rushed to Manas in tears:
— And where is my Almanbet, brother?
He is nowhere to be seen among you!
Manas with difficulty dismounted from his horse,
And, like a daughter, hugged her to his chest:
— Dear, do not wait for him!
Our glorious Almanbet is dead.
Chubak is no longer alive, alas!
Syrgak was killed in battle, alas!
I have lost my wings and my eyes! —
The mighty Khan Manas wept.
Having conquered Beijing in China,
I returned to Talas alone.
For the death of the glorious sons
And for my dishonorable campaign
Forgive me, dear people!..
The spring flowed with tears,
The grasses withered, the forest drooped,
And everywhere there was weeping, wailing, and the roar
Of orphans and unfortunate old people.
Manas could not bear to look
At the weeping children and widows.
And along his back, flowing,
Blood from the wound flowed with pain.

Epic "Manas". Return from the Great Campaign. Part - 1
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