The Tale of Brave Chilten. Part 3. Chapters 3-4

The Tale of the Bright Night.

Part 3. Chapter 3.

And the next day before the crowd
A fight on the peaks, a fierce fight,
Two brave men have begun —
Fiery hearts,
And, giving blows to each other,
Crushing each other's chests to blood,
Both heroes fell!
...And the archers hear the call!
They aim to strike — the jambe,
The strings ring out loudly.
And they spare neither arrows nor strength...
Here Chorten invited Chilten
To try to obtain the jambe...
Chilten was glad to test his fate.
He took an arrow from the quiver
And sent it, releasing the string,
Like lightning the metal pierced...
Everyone sees — not in a dream — but in reality,
That the jambe fell from the spit,
Hit by the first shot;
Weighing as much as a horse's head, the prize
Hung on the side of Karager.
It seems Chorten miscalculated here,
Regretted that he suffered a loss.
But the people are amazed by the marksman
And greet the success with a shout...
“Well, brave Chilten, now
Let’s entertain everyone with a duel!
I won’t hold back on the reward, believe me!
Strike me,— says Chorten,—
It’s time for me to be defeated!
If you are defeated,
I will take your Karager!”
And will the warrior refuse,
For hope is dear to him!
The agreement: if he wins,
Aykokul will take from the enemy.
What about Chorten?
On his shoulder
Surely, there could fit a wolf,
And the other shoulder is such
That even a lion could ascend.
How can such a strongman
Refrain from boasting:
“Hey, Chilten, think first!
I want to teach you a lesson!
It seems everything is just nonsense to you,
You are tired of this world...
Come out to battle, warrior!”
Chorten rolled up his sleeves —
The nimble servants began to run.
Chorten spat on his palms,
And jumped onto his horse at once.
Here the two leaders approach,
Following each other with hostility.
The clash of armor, and the pounding, and the ringing...
Each extended his hands to the other.
And they grappled...

And Chilten leads the fight towards the mountains,
While Chorten
Pulls towards the lake against the current.
The rumble went across the ground from the hooves,
The earth was struck by their blows.
The horses collided chest to chest,
Ribs cracking and a silent struggle...
And streams of sweat flow from the heroes' brows —
No breath to be had.
It seems, in strength, Chilten is matched
By this black force — Chorten.
Whose weakness will show here,
Who is destined to become the victim?
It seems Chilten has weakened,
His strength seems to have reached its limit,
And the people became anxious, murmured,
Trembled, and prayed...
And Chilten already reaches
For his talisman from his bosom,
Which was given as a gift by the tigers.
(Just squeeze this fur and throw it up
A sea of strength will flow into you...)
Chorten the giant staggered!
And the people rejoiced,
And from joy, they shed tears,
Astonished by such a change,
Chorten almost fell into the mud.
And he is already being pulled towards the mountains
By the mighty enemy...
The giant Chorten held his ground
And strained his last strength.
Straining heavily,
He lifted Chilten, along with his horse, by the saddle,
And dragged him straight to the lake.

Chorten gained strength on the shore...
The waves are angry,
Like the lake,
Taking revenge on the enemy,
Fiercely poured out the waves.
And Chilten is exhausted again,
His strength began to wane...
The people froze, feeling this,
Silently praying, not daring to breathe.
The enemy is breaking, no time to think...
And Chilten suddenly raised the mirror
And, instantly turning around,
Shattered it into pieces.
No, nothing like this has ever been seen
Even by the elders...
Like a fish caught in a net,
Chorten began to flail, to weaken.
Even if you see it yourself,
You won't believe your eyes:
The hero became a dead fish,
A pike thrown onto the dry land!
And from now on, the people are happy,
They carry Chilten on their hands.
Chorten's oppression is over,
The faces of the young and old are bright,
But Chilten does not hear the praise —
The moon-faced one emerged from the mist!
And touching the beloved lips,
The hero almost lost his senses.
The festive celebration continues
For forty days and forty nights.
But the hero is tormented by silence,
Full of his secret sorrow...

Chapter 4

Sadness has gone, sadness has flown away.
And on the gentle meadows,
On the shores of the lakes
A bright moonlit night has come.
To immerse oneself in the grace of love —
Like floating in the blue eddies.
If only Aykokul were here to embrace,
Anyone would forget everything here...
Is the taste of betrayal sweet?
Or does Aykokul not please?
But Chilten could not forget
The beauty Künkokul...
The hero grew sad this night,
And for the first time, he was not averse to surrender:
“Fairy of the lake, how could I
Forget you, loving another?
Will love ever satisfy our hearts?
Will it be frightening to draw again?
Or will there truly be no end
To the mysterious tales of the soul,
And the bowls of love will never run dry?

I have thought a lot, I am tormented, :
I miss my beloved...
It is incomprehensible why a person
Can never be satisfied with happiness!
Ah, the soul does not listen,
How beautiful you are, Künkokul!
What is destined for you, Aykokul?
Only to accept — that is all that remains...”
Thus dark, secretive is the sorrow, 
But the mysterious bond of lovers,
And, passing through Chilten, the sorrow —
Aykokul flowed straight into the heart.
Much torment and sleepless nights
It brought her, flowing like a stream.
And the same sorrow burned,
Frosted Künkokul,
And flowed through underground rivers
Into this lake Künkokul...
Now they wander together under the moon,
The bright night continues...
They meet Türyük-Ene,
Only she can help with grief.
“From time immemorial,
I am the only one among you
For whom a century is an hour,
A generation — a short dream.
I am not subject to the power of death,
The light of my life has not gone out!
Mother of the tribe, prophetic Mother,
I cannot grow weary of life,
Life flows around me like a stream...
Let it be a blessing for you!
I will give this eternal life to
Two fairies and a hero!
The moon-faced Aykokul
Shall henceforth be the Moon,
The sun-faced Künkokul.
As the bright sun — the daytime star!
You — Chilten, continuing your path,
Be a fiery comet!

Again and again you will spend sixty years
With Aykokul — with the Moon,
You will fly over the earth every seventy years
As your own.
And, returning after hundreds of years,
You will see Künkokul’s light!”
And she, like her own children,
Sent them into immortality.
She opened the door to infinity,
And now in the expanses of the Universe
In the darkness of the unearthly
The wandering son Türyük-Ene flies —
A young comet in fire,
And two daughters — the Sun and the Moon.

EPILOGUE

And since that time, centuries have passed,
Flowing away like clouds.
The proud lineage of humanity,
Lives pushing time forward.
There will be bitter times,
Retreating like rivers,
And the wave of happy epochs —
Will approach, radiating light.
If there is a Mother on the planet —
The path of sons is infinite.
This is what it means to have a Mother in the world,
The support of days and the essence of life!
The line of sons will grow quickly,
Daughters will bloom quickly,
Neither monsters nor drought
Will sweep away human labor.
Let the seed of misfortune wither!..
And in all times — look! —
Those who protect the people
Are born again as heroes...

The End.
Beginning:The Tale of Brave Chilten. Part 3. Chapters 1-2