The Epic "Manas". The Death of Manas

The Death of Manas

At night, secretly Kanykey
Gathered the loyal warriors,
Far along the mountain paths
She led them to the gorge in the morning.
At the cliffs on the stone wall
She made them break through a passage
And there, for eternal rest,
She built a grotto for Manas.
When Kanykey returned:
— Is everything ready? — asked Manas. —
Now call my relatives here,
My friends and warriors,
I want to see them one last time…
And people came from all sides
To pay their last respects.
When all the warriors had passed,
Manas called his wife to him,
Pressed her palm to his lips —
And surrendered his soul to the heavens…
And the whole people wept:
Koshoy wept and er-Toshtyk,
With them Azhybay, gray Bakay,
The brave — the loyal choro.
The sun and moon were darkened:
Like in a tomb, the night was dark.
The rock cracked, crumbled,
The forests fell with their roots,
The earth trembled beneath their feet.
The mighty camel Zhelmayán
(He had gone to battle with the hero)
By the yurt where Manas lay,
Kneeled in tears.
And Manas's dog Kumayyk
For seven days did not eat or drink,
And at night, looking at the moon,
He howled mournfully and cried.
And the hunting falcon Ak-Shumkar
Tore the leash with his claws,
Circled over the mourning yurt,
Then soared away into the mountains without a trace.
The steed of the hero Tayburul,
Recognized by Manas as a duldul,
Tried to tear off the reins,
Gasped, beat the ground with his hoof,
And in the loyal horse's eyes
A bitter tear trembled.
And quietly, so that no one would know,
The maiden kız-Saykal passed away.
The soul of the beloved ascended
To where Manas awaited her.
Manas's wife Kanykey
Barely stood on her feet,
Left a widow at thirty-two,
Wept in a mourning shawl,
And tears mixed with blood flowed
Down her cheek in an uncontrollable stream.
— The sun has set in the heavens,
Darkness has descended upon the earth.
The bright star has gone out —
Grief and misfortune have come to us.
In the black shawl before you,
My khan, take me with you!
You left too early for another world,
Leaving your son an orphan,
Leaving your people in trouble.
Oh, a bitter fate awaits us:
Suffering, poverty, and oppression.
And your poor son Semetey
Will not soon take your power, —
Kanykey wept bitterly.
Six brothers, lined up in a row:
Kobesh and the eldest Abyke,
Chiybyt, Kochkor, and Adybay
And the youngest brother Kolbay,—
Letting false tears flow,
But hiding joy in their souls,
“Farewell, our abake!” they cried,
As if they truly mourned.
When the darkness of night descended,
Bakay, Toshtyk, and brother Koshoy
Washed the body, laid it to rest,
Recited prayers and quickly
Took Manas to the mountains
And secretly buried him in the rocks,
Blocked the entrance with stones.
(And now a thousand years have passed,
No one knows this grotto).
The wisest Bakay, just at dawn,
Secretly brought the corpse
Of the old woman who died yesterday.
Laying stones on the body,
Tightly binding it with a belt,
After performing the farewell ritual,
They lifted the body above themselves
And carried it to bury.
Behind them, the whole people surged,
They threw handfuls of earth
And buried her like Manas.
Those who came from all sides
Returned to the yurt from the funeral,
To comfort Kanykey.
They all wished to strengthen her,
Promised that in a year
They would gather here under the khan's banner,
To honor Manas with dignity —
And they set off on their way back.
Barely marking forty days,
To Manas's widow Kanykey
Brother Abyke sent people,
To perform a marriage nikah.
But, receiving a refusal right away,
He hid malice in his treacherous heart.
Then Kobesh sent his own,
Proposing to marry his daughter,
But he was also unsuccessful.
And each brother wanted to take
Manas's faithful wife,
The power of the khan and his treasury.
And Kanykey realized
That this would not lead to good,
Taking her son with the old woman Chiyyrdy,
She fled to her father in Bukhara.
Brother Abyke and brother Kobesh
Could not get along together,
To take the khan's power for themselves,
Brother went to war against brother.
And soon the mighty khanate
Was again ravaged by enemies,
Manas's throne was destroyed.
And for a thousand years, or more,
The Kyrgyz lived under the yoke —
Sometimes under one, sometimes under another.
Out of envy, they would kill for power,
And ruin, and sell,
And the rogue would profit.
So be wise!
In the embrace of the Talas mountains
Our great Manas lies,
But to this day
No one has held a memorial for the hero.

Epic "Manas". The Testament of Manas