Rezultatele căutării

Dyngyldai

Riding the sky-coloured grey, oh dyŋgyl, dyŋgyldaj This bold fellow that prances, oh dyŋgyl, dyŋgyldaj This wild fellow that thrusts to man, oh dyŋgyl, dyŋgyldaj Its buck-headed stirrup, oh dyŋgyl, dyŋgyldaj
 
What to do about me and him, oh dyŋgyl, dyŋgyldaj One cannot change, cannot replace him, oh dyŋgyl, dyŋgyldaj But if it is the flint and knife, oh dyŋgyl, dyŋgyldaj Those one could change and replace, oh dyŋgyl, dyŋgyldaj
 
What to do about me and you, oh dyŋgyl, dyŋgyldaj One cannot replace, cannot repair you, oh dyŋgyl, dyŋgyldaj But if it is the buck-skin blanket, oh dyŋgyl, dyŋgyldaj That one could replace and repair, oh dyŋgyl, dyŋgyldaj
 
Riding the sky-coloured grey, oh dyŋgyl, dyŋgyldaj This bold fellow that prances, oh dyŋgyl, dyŋgyldaj This wild fellow that thrusts to man, oh dyŋgyl, dyŋgyldaj Its buck-headed stirrup, oh dyŋgyl, dyŋgyldaj
 

Dyngyldai

Riding on a grey horse the color of the sky,
Aren't you the prancing fool?
With your serrated stirrups, you're so annoying,
Clanking them into people, jeez!
 
Whatever am I going to do with you?
You can't be fixed or spruced up.
If only you were a nice goatskin blanket
Maybe some fixing or sprucing could happen!
 
Whatever am I going to do with him?
He can't be traded or exchanged.
Now if he were a knife and flint,
There might be some dealing to be done.
 

Oitulaash Xeveri

Summer pastures at the hem of mountain ridges
That are the shelter of deer and doe
I am a child of the oriole
Of summer pastures at the hem of mountain ridges
 
Summer pastures at the foot of mountain forests
That are the shelter of doe and roe
I am a child of the luring whistle
Of summer pastures at the foot of mountain forests
 

Karachal

O the poor karachal,
He doesn't have any wheat or barley.
The ones who've got the grains
Are those xörengeti düzhümets!
 
If only I were like the feathered eagle,
I could wheel about in the sky.
If I could just get close enough
Even just to shake hands with this guy!
 
I found ten fat kopecks
And thought it was a treasure.
Then among the Russians,
Boy, did I curse up a storm!
 
A bird that flies needs wings–
It's important for the flying.
A girl friend needs advice–
It's important for living.
 

Bai-Taiga

My Bay-Tayga with its high summits
That go down and down
Oh my tayga - owner of a rich harvest
In the steppes in front of it
 
My Bay-Tayga with its high slopes
That curve down and down
Oh my tayga - owner of abundant livestock
In the steppes at its foot
 
My Bay-Tayga with its glacier summits
Rising up and up and falling down
My Bay-Tayga, where livestock grazes
On its slopes and in its river valleys
 

Aa-Shuu-Dekei-oo

When my trotting dun is trotting
the fog on the ground clears up
When the eloquent girl manifests herself
The Seven Stars conjoin
 
My sweetheart’s two eyes
are like the stars that rise late
Her coarse braid
is like the cedar of my taiga pasture
 
When my ambling dun is ambling
the first fog clears up
When my witty dear manifests herself
The first stars conjoin
 
Its children are bold,
cheerful and merry, deng-deng
Its peoples are free
it is our Tuva, deng-deng
 
My young beloved’s two eyes
are like the stars that shine in the evening
Her braid born in autumn
is like some land’s cedar
 

Chavydak

His bold sounding tractor
Hums along in Elegest.
He's an economic veteran.
Oh, heroic Chavydak!
 
How can you ever compare
A hitched-up bull with a tractor?
How can you ever compare
Lazy, shiftless people with Chavydak?
 
The turf and topsoil, so soft
On the cast-iron ChTZ.
The harvest quotas
Are no problem for its driver, Chavydak!
 

Ene-Sai

My Ene-Sai, My Sayan-Tangdy,
My ancient homeland,
The sweet and smooth Sygyt and Xöömei,
My song from the beginning of time.
 
Even if the ancestors of Kargyraa
Are transformed into the rocky cliffs,
We are their Kargyraa-singing children
Who can make souls weep.
 
Even if the ancestors Xöömei and Sygyt
Become the közhee stones,
We are their Xöömei-singing children
Who can set hearts afire.
 

Mezhegei

Not sure yet. Sorry.
 

Kongurei

Of my horseherd that amounts to sixty,
Where are the dappled ones, Konggurey?
Of my people of the six banners,
Where are the villages, Konggurey?
 
Of my horseherd that amounts to seventy,
Where are the tethers, Konggurey?
Of my people of the seven banners,
Where are the lands, Konggurey?
 
Of my horseherd that amounts to eighty,
Where are the eight, Konggurey?
Of my people of the eight banners
Where are the eight, Konggurey?
 
Of my horseherd that amounts to ninety,
Where are the nine, Konggurey?
Of my people of the eight banners
Where are the nine, Konggurey?
 

Bashtak-la Deesh Meni Kanchaar?

(Durgen Chugaa)
 
What are you going do with me for joking—
Hit me over the head?
Even if you hit me over the head,
It's not like I'm going to stop joking!
 
What are you going to do with me for goofing off—
Smack me in the forehead?
Even if you smack me in the forehead,
It's not like I'm going to stop goofing off!
 
What are you going to do with me for falling in love—
Hit me with a crooked stick?
Even if you hit me with a crooked stick,
It's not like I am going to stop falling in love!
 
What are you going to do with me for laughing—
Hit me with a willow stick?
Even if you hit me with a willow stick,
It's not like I am going to stop laughing!
 
What are you going to do with us for singing—
Hit us with a crooked stick?
Even if you hit us with a crooked stick,
It's not like we'll stop singing!
 
(Durgen Chugaa)
 

Oske Cherde

How far the foreign land
?Else it seems stretched out
How frightful the foreigner
?Else he seems looking
 
How far the alien land
Yet it seems stretched out
How frightful the alien one
He seems looking back
 
When I recall the Yenisei River
It seems a lasso pole’s length
When I recall my girl-friend
She seems waking up from sleep
 
When I recall the Lesser Yenisei
It seems a handspan’s length
When I recall my beloved friend
She seems smiling softly
 
When I recall the Greater Yenisei
It seems like a wrist’s length
When I recall my one and only
She seems pretending not to know
 
How frightful!