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Уже бо, братіе, невеселая |
Now already, brothers a weary time arose, now it covered the army in the wilderness. Contumely arose in the hosts of the scion of Dážbog, stepped like a Maiden on the land of Troyán, splashed with her swan-wings in the blue sea; splashing them in the Don, she awakened the heavy times. The discord of the princes ruined them against the Pagans. For, brother spake to brother;--"This is mine, and that is also mine." And the princes began to pronounce of a paltry thing, 'this is great'; and themselves amongst them to forge feuds; and the heathens from all sides advanced with victories against the Russian land. Oh, far has the hawk followed, smiting the birds into the sea! and Ígoŕ's brave host will rise no more! |
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За нимъ кликну Карнаижля,
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After him the Accursèd One shouted, leapt over the Russian land, shooting forth fire on the people in a flaming horn. The women of Russia wailed, saying:--"Henceforth can we no longer think with our thoughts of our dear loves nor with our counsel counsel them, nor see them with our eyes nor amass gold nor silver, nay far from it?" and then, brothers,
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Кіевъ тугою |
[paragraph continues] Kíev groaned with mourning, and Černígov with disasters. Grief poured forth on the Russian land, abundant tribulation flowed through the Russian lands. But the princes themselves forged discord amongst themselves, and the Pagans with victories overrode the Russian land and took tribute from each household of a squirrel's skin. |
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332 Тіи бо два храбрая Святъславлича, |
For those two valiant sons of Svyatosláv, Ígoŕ and Vsévolod, had aroused the wrong which their father Svyatosláv [the great and terrible of Kíev] had lulled asleep. With his might having conquered, [or kept in panic] through his powerful armies and tempered swords, he invaded the Polovsk land; he trampled down their hills and clefts, sullied their streams and lakes, dried out their rivers and fens. And the heathen Kobyák he tore, like a whirlwind, from the bight of the sea, out of the great hosts of the Pólovtsy; and Kobyák fell in the city of Kíev in the Hall of Svyatosláv. There the Germans and the Wends, there the Greeks and Moravians sing the faine of Svyatosláv; they obsecrate Prince Ígoŕ; who foundered his abundance in the bed of the Kayála, the Polovsk river, and filled it with Russian gold. There Ígoŕ dismounted from his golden saddle into a slave's saddle. |
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Уныша бо градомъ забралы, |
The ramparts of the cities were hushed and mirth declined. And Svyatosláv dreamed a troubled dream at Kíev on the hills. "This night," he said, "from even-time, ye dressed me with a black coverlet on my bed of yew; [men] poured me out blue wine mixed with dust; they scattered great [treasure of] pearls from the empty quivers of the nomads on to my lap and [try to] soothe me. Already are the boards in my golden-roofed abode bereft of wall-plates. All night long from even-time have the crows of Bus [or Blus] croaked; two captives [stand] by the fen: mercilessly [the foe] have carried the two to the landing-stage of the river, down to the blue sea." And the Boyárs answered the Prince; "Already, Prince, has grief taken captive our mind. For two hawks have flown away from their sires' golden throne, to seek the city of Tmutorokáń, or, may be, to quaff in their helms of the Don. Already are the wings of the two hawks by the sabres of the heathen made to walk afoot; and, [Ígoŕ] himself they have fettered in fetters of iron." |
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Темно бо бѣ въ третій день.
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It was dark on the third day. Two suns were dimmed; both purple columns [of the Aurora Borealis] were extinguished; and with these two the two young Moons, Olég and Svyatosláv, were draped in darkness.
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396 На рѣцѣ на Каялѣ |
On the stream of the Kayála darkness covered the light. Over the Russian land the Pólovtsy spread out like a brood of pards. And ye two plunged into the sea your mighty daring and will abandon it for folly. Now obloquy was upraised after praise; now need burst out on freedom; now Div cast himself down [or? whined upon] the earth. Thus the fair maidens of the Goths sang on the shore of the blue sea, tinkling in Russian gold. They sing the time of Bus [or Blus]; they cherish the vengeance for Šarokán. But, now, we, the družína, are a-thirst for joy. |
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Тогда великый Святъславъ
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Then the mighty Svyatosláv let fall a golden word, commingled with tears, and spake: "Oh my nephews, Ígoŕ and Vsévolod! soon have ye begun to harass the land of the Pólovtsy with your swords, and to seek fame for yourselves! But, dishonourably have ye conquered, for dishonourably have ye shed the blood of the heathen. Your brave hearts are welded together in heavy steel, and tempered in audacity. This have ye wrought to me to my silvered grey hairs? Now I no longer see the power of my brother Yarosláv, the mighty and wealthy and well-equipped, with the commanders of the Černígov mercenaries, with their forces, both with the men from the Tátra, the men from Šelbiŕ and Topčák,
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и съ Ревугы и съ Ольбѣры. |
from Revukha [or Revutsa] and from Olbieŕ. For these without shields conquer the hosts by their yells, echoing to the glory of their forebears. But ye spake:--"Let us play a man's part; let us steal the glory of yore; let us divide the glory to come for ourselves!" But, what wonder were it, brothers, for an old man to grow young? If a hawk is moulting, it drives the birds afar high up, and will not foul its own nest. But this disaster, oh my Prince, is irremediable: the seasons have gone backwards to nothingness. Thus they cry out at Rim beneath the sabres of the Pólovtsy--,but Vladímir [lies] beneath his wounds,--"Woe and sorrow to the son of Glěb!" |
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Великый княже Всеволоде; |
Great Prince Vsévolod! Is it not thine to fly from afar with thy thought to guard thy fathers' golden throne? For thou canst splash the Volga with thy oars, and bale out the Don with thy helmets! If thou hadst been [there], then a potentate would be priced at twelve pence and a workman at five pence! For, on dry land, thou canst, with the men of Šeryšor shoot my valorous sons of Glěb. |
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Ты буй-Рюриче и Давыде! |
Thou brave Rúrik and David, did they not swim in blood with your golden helms? Do not your brave Družína gallop like bulls wounded by tempered sabres in the unexplored land? Step, my lords, into your golden stirrups, for the insult to our time, for the Russian land, the wounds of Ígoŕ, the brave son of Svyatosláv. |
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Галичкы осломи о Вислѣ Ярославе; |
Thou didst shatter the Galicians on the Vistula, Yarosláv; thou sittest high on thy gold-forged throne, supporting the Hungarian mountains with thy iron-clad regiments, barring the road against the [Magyar] King, closing the gates of the Danube, hurling thongs amid the Vlakhs, judging and ordaining as far as the Danube! Thy threats have sway over the lands. Thou openest the gates of Kíev, shootest from thy ancestral golden throne the men of Salatyn [who are] beyond thy lands. Shoot, my liege, the heathen Končák the slave, for the sake of the Russian land, for the sake of the wounds of Ígoŕ, the brave son of Svyatosláv. |
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А ты, буй-Романе, и Мстиславе! |
Thou, valiant Román and Mstíslav, your brave thought carries you with your uncle to the work. Thou floatest in thy courage to thy toil like a hawk stretching himself in the winds, wishing in his strength to slay a bird! For ye have iron cuirasses beneath your Latin helmets. Through them the earth trembled and many countries, Hinowice, Lithuania, the Yatvyági, the men of Dremble; and the Pólovtsy threw down their maces and bowed their heads beneath those steel swords. But now, my prince, the light of Ígoŕ's sun has dimmed; the tree through misfortune has let fall its leaves, they [the enemy] have shared out the cities on the Roś and the Sulá. And, Ígoŕ's brave regiment can no more rise. The Don summons thee, Prince, and calls the princes to victory. |
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Олговичи, храбыи князи, |
The Ólgoviči, those brave princes [i.e. Ígoŕ and Vsévolod] have hastened to the combat. Íngvaŕ and Vsévolod [Yaroslávič] and ye three Mstíslaviči, ye heavy-winged ones of a noble nest, by inglorious lots have ye gotten yourselves power! Wherefor [have ye] your golden helms and Polish maces and your shields? Guard the gates of the [frontier] land with your sharp arrows for the land of Russia, the wounds of Ígoŕ, the brave Svyatoslávič! |
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Уже бо Сула не течетъ |
No longer does the Sulá flow with silvery stream to the city of Pereyáslavl’, and the Dviná flows thither in a morass to the grim hunters of Polótsk, amid the shouts of the heathen. Izyasláv, alone, the son of Vasíl’ko, rang with his sharp swords on the helmets of the Lithuanians, grasped the fame of his grandfather Vséslav; and himself beneath the crimsoned shields was laid low on the blood-stained ground by the Lithuanian swords: and with grieving spake on his bed: "The birds, oh Prince, have been covering thy družína with their wings, and the wild beasts have been licking at their blood," On that field there was neither his brother Bryáčislav, nor his next [brother] Vsévolod: alone he let fall his pearl-white soul from his brave body out through his armour at his throat. Voices were hushed; merriment was subdued. The trumpets of Gorodno blare. |
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Ярославли и вси внуце Всеславли,
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Oh Yarosláv [Vsévolodič] and all the scions of Vséslav, ye should now lower your standards and sheathe your maimed swords; for ye have now leapt away from the Glory of your grandfathers. Ye, with your discords, began to lead the Pagans on to Russian soil, against the
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на жизнь Всеславлю. |
life of Vséslav. From strife there has been oppression from the land of the Pólovtsy. |
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На седьмомъ вѣцѣ Трояни
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In the seventh age of Troyán Vséslav cast his lots for the Maiden dear to him. He with wiles at the last tore himself free: and galloped to the city of Kíev; with his weapon took hold of the golden throne of Kíev; galloped from them like a wild beast at midnight from Bĕ́lgorod, swathed himself in a blue mist, rent asunder his bonds into three parts, opened wide the gates of Nóvgorod, shattered the Glory of Yarosláv [the First]; galloped like a wolf from Dudútki to the Nemíga. On the Nemíga the sheaves are laid out with heads; men thresh with flails in hedgerows; on the barn-floor they spread out life; they winnow the soul from the body. On the blood-stained Nemíga the banks were sown with bane,--sown with the bones of the sons of Russia. Prince Vséslav was a judge to his subjects, he appointed cities for the princes: but he himself at night raced like a wolf from Kíev to the Idol [or, (accepting the reading of the text unaltered)--to the Lord] of Tmutarakáń, raced, like a wolf across the path of the great Khors. To him at Polotsk they rang the bells early for matins at Saint Sophia; and he at Kíev heard the sound.
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Аще и вѣща душа |
[paragraph continues] Although his wise soul were in a hardy [or precious] body, yet he often endured misfortunes. To him thou, oh wizard Boyárs, didst first thoughtfully speak the refrain:--"Neither the crafty man nor the experienced, nor a bird nor a minstrel can escape God's judgments." |
О Владимирѣ Свяромъ
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О стонати Руской земли, |
Ah, moan for the Russian land [ye who] remember the first epoch and the first princes! It was useless to nail down that olden-time Vladímir to the mountains of Kíev; his banners now have become, some of them Rúrik's and others of them David's; but [these banners] waver to and fro at the hafts at variance one with the other! |
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(1) Вопилы поютъ на Дунаи; |
(1) The mourners sing on the Danube. |
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628 (2) Ярославна рано плачетъ
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Yaroslávna wails early at Putívl’ on the rampart, saying:--"Oh Wind, little Wind, wherefore, Master, blowest thou with violence? Wherefore hurlest thou with thy tireless wing torturing arrows on the hosts of my love?
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636 мало ли ти бяшетъ |
[paragraph continues] Little were it to thee to waft woes beneath the clouds, thou who rockest ships on the blue sea; wherefore, Master,--thou who waftest away my joy over the feathergrass [of the steppe]?" |
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(3) Ярославна рано плачеть |
Yaroslávna wails early at Putívl’ on the rampart, saying. "Oh Dnĕpr Slovútič, thou hast pierced the stone mountains through the land of the Pólovtsy. Thou hast rocked on thyself Svyatosláv's barges up to the armies of Kobyák; rock up to me, Master, my love. Would that I had never sent tears to him over the sea!" †
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(4) Рано Ярославна |
Yaroslávna wails by the waters on the rampart at Putívl’ early, saying:--"Oh sun, thou bright, thrice bright one! To all men art thou warm and beauteous! Wherefore, Master, hast thou spread thy burning beam over my love's men? Thou hast stretched their bows in the waterless plain with thirst, and choked their quivers with tribulation."
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18:† For reconstruction of this passage vide page 24.
20:† 'Sea' море must be understood any wide inland stretch of water.