Then Prince Ígor stepped into the golden stirrup and galloped over the clear field. The sun barred his way in darkness; night groaning with the cries of birds awoke him; beasts howled, and Div[36] called in the top of a tree, sending the news to the unknown land, to the Vólga, the Sea border,[37] the Sulá country, Surózh[38] and Korsún,[39] and to you, idol of Tmútorokan![40] But the Pólovtses hastened by untrodden roads to the great Don; the carts creaked at midnight, like swans let loose.
Ígor leads his soldiers to the Don: the birds in the thicket forbode his misfortune; the wolves bristle up and howl a storm in the mountain clefts; the eagles screech and call the beasts to a feast of bones; the foxes bark for the crimson shields. O Russian land, you are already beyond the mound![41] Night is long and murky; the dawn withholds the light; mist covers the fields; the nightingale’s song is silent; the cawing of the crows is heard. The Russians bar the long fields with their crimson shields, seeking honour for themselves and glory for the Prince.
IV
Early in the morning, on the Friday, they crushed the pagan Pólovts host, and, spreading like arrows over the field, seized fair Pólovts maidens, and with them gold and gold-worked stuffs and costly velvet; with cloaks and coats and Pólovts lace they bridged their way over bogs and muddy places. A red flag, white pennon, red panache, silver cross-beam, for the brave son of Svyatosláv!...[42] Olég’s valiant brood has flown afar and dreams in the field! They thought not to offend the falcon, gerfalcon, nor you, black raven, pagan Pólovts! But Gza ran like a grey wolf, with Konchák[43] in his track, to the great Don.
V
Very early the next morning a bloody dawn announces the day. Black clouds come from the sea and try to veil four suns,[44] while blue lightnings quiver through them. There is to be a mighty thunder, and the rain is to go down in arrows by the great Don! There spears will be broken; there swords will be blunted against Pólovts helmets on the Kayála,[45] by the great Don. O Russian land, you are already beyond the mound!
Behold the winds, Stribóg’s[46] grandchildren, blow arrows from the sea on Ígor’s valiant army. The earth groans, the rivers flow turbid; dust covers the fields; the banners whisper. The Pólovtses come from the Don, and from the sea, and from all sides: the Russian army recedes. The devil’s children fill the field with their cries, but the brave Russians line it with their crimson bucklers.
Grim Aurochs Vsévolod! You stand in the van; you pour arrows on the warriors; you thunder with steel swords against their helmets. Wherever you, Aurochs, lead, gleaming with your golden helmet, there fall the heads of the pagan Pólovtses, their Avar[47] helmets cloven by your tempered swords, Grim Aurochs Vsévolod! What wound does he brook, O brothers, having forgotten his honours and manner of life, and Chernígov town, his paternal golden throne, and the caresses of his sweetheart, Glyeb’s fair daughter,[48] and the habits and customs of his home?
VI
Troyán’s age is past, gone are the years of Yarosláv; past are the expeditions of Olég,[49] the son of Svyatosláv. That Olég had fostered discord with his sword, and had sowed arrows over the land. In Tmútorokan city he stepped into the golden stirrup. Great Yarosláv, that was, heard the tocsin,[50] and Vsévolod’s son Vladímir closed his ears all the days at Chernígov.[51] But Glory brought Borís,[52] the son of Vyachesláv, before the judgment seat and bedded him, brave young prince, on the green feather grass of the steppe, through Olég’s offence....