The Love of Manas and Kyz-Saykal
In Uch-Turfane lived Karacha —
A glorious elder from Kalmykia.
The old man was very proud
Of his beautiful daughter Saykal.
But what no one knew in the whole region
Was that the girl was she,
Hiding her hair under a helmet,
She, like a true warrior,
Wielded a sword, spear, and shield.
When Tekes killed himself
And Teiysh was chosen as khan,
Saykal in battle armor
Came to her father and said:
— For my honor and homeland
I will stand at the cost of my life!
Here on the er-sayish
I will kill young Manas!
The Buruts, who took our city,
I will drive out from Turfan!
For a week Turfan feasted.
And after the races — the alaman
The prizes were given to the horses.
Grabbing each other by the trousers,
They wrestled vigorously in kurash.
Then the er-sayish was announced:
The hero who knocks another rider
Off his horse with a spear
Will receive three hundred horses
And take along
The defeated horse.
On a tall red stallion
The Kalmyk youth Saykal
Appeared right there in the arena.
The herald, riding around,
Called to fight him with spears,
Shouting in different languages,
But no one dared yet
To face him in the er-sayish.
The youth Saykal was dangerous:
More than once with his agility
He had knocked warriors off their horses.
And suddenly the daring warrior Saykal
Removed his helmet before the crowd,
And his hair, like black silk,
Fell down over his shoulders.
And the whole arena fell silent for a moment:
The gathered people saw
The beautiful young female face!
And shaking the heavens,
The valleys, mountains, and forests,
A delighted cry rang out!
And the warriors suddenly moved towards the er-sayish
From all sides:
Each was convinced in his heart
That they would knock the girl off her horse.
— I am Kyz-Saykal, daughter of Karacha!
I want to warn you all:
I came out to the arena with a spear
For our ancestral honor!
Hero Manas! My peer!
I want to fight you!
And if I knock you off,
I will not take your horse,
But you will leave Uch-Turfan
And swear that you will never
Return to us with your troops!
And if you knock me off,
I will give you my horse!
Take me as your slave,
Or if you wish, here in front of everyone
Execute me in the square!
— I agree with you, Kyz-Kuimai!
But I must warn you,
That for me our er-sayish
Will be a game, Kyz-Kuimai!
And if I knock you off —
Give me a kiss on the cheek! —
Answered the cheerful youth Manas, laughing.
The brave girl Saykal
Was beautiful and tender.
Her eyes shone like diamonds,
And her lips were red like blood.
The youth Manas felt
A tender love for the Kalmyk girl!
He thought: if only she were
A worthy wife for him.
And he was afraid to harm
Her tender body.
He tried with his spear
To strike surely at the shield,
So that without pain and blood
He could knock the girl off her horse,
And then, as promised,
Kiss her in front of everyone.
When the campaign was over,
He would send for his father and take her as a wife.
The trusting Manas did not know
That the young girl Saykal
Had planned to kill him,
To sow panic and fear
In the Kyrgyz battle ranks
And to slaughter them all.
With a counter-strike, Kyz-Saykal
Deflected the sharp spear.
She delivered a retaliatory blow
To Manas right in the chest —
And he nearly fell from his horse.
But then, just slightly to the left of the shield,
Saykal struck with her spear —
And the sharp tip of the spear
Almost pierced his heart.
And the young hero Manas understood:
The game with spears in the er-sayish
Saykal had decided to turn
Into a bloody struggle for power.
And the girl, whom he wanted to love,
Now Manas decided to kill.
Now, like two fierce enemies,
Rushing towards each other with full force,
Striking each other mutually,
They fought to the death — he, she!
Blood flowed from his wound,
His right arm grew weak.
Strike! Strike! Another strike!
But the shield reliably protected.
Manas was already bleeding out,
At times losing consciousness.
And, finally, having outsmarted her,
With a precise strike right at the shield
He knocked Kyz-Saykal to the ground.
When Manas approached her,
She bowed her head
And offered with her hand
The spear and the reins of her horse.
In anger, Manas drew his sword,
Ready to behead her,
He took the girl by the chin.
But the proud, brave gaze of Saykal
Showed neither anger nor fear.
Looking at the world for the last time,
Saykal bowed her head,
And her black braids, like pitch,
Fell from her shoulders,
Revealing the down on her neck.
Manas sheathed his sword,
Bowed low to Kyz-Saykal,
Suddenly kissed her on the nape,
Mounted his horse and galloped away.
She watched him go,
Tears rolling down her cheeks.
— I will wait for you all my life, —
Said Kyz-Saykal softly.
But no one heard the faithful vow
From the lips of the enamored girl.
When Manas and Khan Teiysh,
Having united their armies,
Set out on a distant campaign,
In the distance, Er-Kokche saw
That Kyz-Saykal was standing alone.
— Look, Manas, your Saykal!
It seems she is offended
That you did not take her as your wife!
— My brother Kokche, I swear to you,
I will return to her in victory.
When we fulfill our sacred duty,
End the ancestral feud,
Peace will come to the land,
Then forever
Saykal will remain with me, —
Answered Er-Manas to his friend,
Wiping tears from his eyes with his hand.
All her life, the enamored Saykal
Waited for Manas, they say.
And how many suitors there were,
She refused them all, they say.
Manas could not return to her:
The feud of clans and among people
Has not ended to this day.
Peace did not come to the land —
This world is filled with enmity!
In a dream, Manas and Kyz-Saykal
Were united, they say.
When, gathering his troops, Manas
Went to war against China
And, taking the city of Chet-Beijing,
With a mortal wound returned alone
To his Talas,
So that in this treacherous, evil land
She would not suffer as a widow,
He called his bride Kyz-Saykal
In her last hour to him.
And quietly, so that no one knew,
The girl Saykal passed away.
The soul of the enamored rose,
To where Manas was waiting for her.
About how a thousand years ago
A Kalmyk girl and a Kyrgyz-Burut
Fell in love in a battle clash
The descendants do not want to forget,
They pass it from mouth to mouth.
Epic "Manas". The Campaign and Victory over Tekes-Khan