Prose translation The Words on the Igor's Regiment - Folk

Literature of antiquity and the Middle Ages - Summary - 2019

Prose translation The Words on the Igor's Regiment

Should not we, brothers, beg the mournful story of the Igor, Igor Svyatoslavich, in an old way! Or, let's start a song for him according to the present of our time - not for the purpose of Boyanov (1)! After all, Boyan was a fan when he wanted to sing a song, then he galloped a tree with a protein, a gray wolf on the ground, a circled eagle circling under the clouds. He remembered the ancient times of the race - then let ten falcons into a pack of swans; which the falcon overtook, and the first song sang to old Yaroslav, the brave Mstislav, who slaughtered Redediu before the regiments of Kasozhsky, red Roman Svyatoslavich (2). Boyan, brothers, did not let ten falcons on a flock of swans, but put his cute fingers on living strings; they themselves glorified the princes themselves.

Let us begin, brothers, this story from the old Vladimir to the present Igor (3), which, with courage, tempered himself, sharpened the hearts with his courage, and, having fulfilled the spirit of war, he brought his brave regiments to the land of Polovets for the Russian land.

O Boyan, the nightingale of the old time! That's when you, the nightingale, sang these regiments with a nickname, the thought of jumping on a tree, flying the mind under clouds, the glory of the ancient and present time, the wolf of the swarm along the path of Troyanova (4) through the fields to the mountains! So then the glory of Igor, Olegov's grandson, would shed his glory: "Not a storm of falcons brought through wide fields, the flock of flocks flying to the Great Don". Or she would have become so enthusiastic, Boyan, grandchild Velesov (5): "The horses are pruned for Sula, the fame is rumored in Kiev. The pipes are blowing in Novogorod, there are bins in Putivl."

Igor is waiting for a cute brother of Vsevolod (6). I. said to him the buoy-tour Vsevolod: "One brother, one light light, you Igor! Both of us are Svyatoslavichi, Sedlay, brother, of my horses boring - my long time ago in Kursk stand ready. And my chickens - the spring was: under the trumpets covered with helmets, slippers, from the end of the spear are raised, their paths are made; ravines are driven; their bows are stretched; quivers are opened; the swords are sharp; they themselves rush like gray wolves in the field, seeking for themselves honor, and prince of glory. "

Then Igor looked at the bright sun and saw that the darkness from him covered all the army (7). And Igor said to his wife, "Brothers and wife, it's better to fall in the battle than to surrender in captivity. And let's sit down, brothers, on our horse's boobies, look at the blue Don!" The prince drove the thought of the Great Dona to the Great, and the sign of heaven shone on him. "I want to, - said, - to break the spear into the Polovtsian steppe with you, Rusichi! I want to add my head or drink a shelum from the Don".

Then Igor entered the prince in a golden stall and drove along a clean field. The sun darkened its path to darkness; darkness, thunder storm, thundered bird awakened; the animal's whistle has risen; See (8) clogged, calling on the top of a tree - he orders to listen to the unknown land. The Volga, and Pomeroy, and Sourozhu, and Korsunu, and you, the tmutarakan idol (9)! And the Polovtsians rushed to the Great Don by the roads that were not pierced; they scratch their carts at midnight, like the swans screaming scared.

Igor leads to the Don soldiers. Already trouble he will keep the birds over the oaks; the wolves are driven by thunderstorms; the eagles call upon the bones of the beasts; The foxes lie on the scarlet shields (10) O Russian land, and you already hid behind the hill!

Long night it will dim. But the dawn of the light was lit, the fog covered the field; the nightingale's cheek fell asleep, the lacquer woke up. Ruschi broad fields with shaded shields blocked themselves seeking honor, and the prince of glory.

On the morning of Friday, they trampled the Polovets' bad regiments and, scattered with arrows in the field, rushed red Polovtsian nights, and with them gold, and povoloki, and expensive velvet (11). The axes, yaponchitsami (12) and the cloaks bridges the bridges in marshes and foggy places - and with all kinds of zirkochymi (13) Polovtsian tusks, a white bone, a scarlet bunch (14), a silver pole to a brave Sviatoslavich!

Dreams in the steppe Olegovo brave nest. Far away! It was not born of insult to either a falcon or a clod, nor to you, black raven, bad Polovtsian! Gzak runs a gray wolf, Konchak traces him to the great Don.

The next morning, bloody dawns announce dawn; black clouds go from the sea, they want to cover four suns (15), and blue lightning thunders in them. Be a thunder great! To rain with arrows from the Great Don! Here spears are broken, here sabers knock on Polovtsian helmets, on the river on Kayal (16) at the Don of the Great. About the Russian land, and you already hid behind the hill!

Here are the winds, Stirbog's grandchildren (17) carry with the sea arrows on the brave regiments of Igorev. The earth is humming, the rivers are flowing tumultuously; the dust enters the steppe; the bundles of news feed - Polovtsy go from the Don and from the sea; on all sides they were surrounded by the Russian regiments. The children of the demons clasped the steppe, and the brave Rusichi blocked the steppe with shields.

Yar-tour Vsevolod! You stand all ahead, the mosques are arrows for the bad ones, knocking on the helm with the sword of the haraluzhnyh (18). Where, the tour, you go, with its golden shlama obscuring, there are bad Polovtsian heads. Sharded with squirrels by the Kalinin helmets of the Avar Tavs, Yar-Tour Vsevolod! What is the wounds, brothers, who forgot both life and honor, and the city of Chernigov, his father's golden table, and his cute red hlebovny (19) habits and customs!

There were centuries of Troyanovs (20), passed Yaroslavov's summer; There were campaigns of Olegov, Oleg Svyatoslavich (21) Oleg, with the sword, swore swords and sowed arrows on the ground; Step into the golden stroke of the city of Tmutarakani - the oldest great Yaroslav son, Vsevolod, hears the sound, and Vladimir places his ears in Chernihiv every morning. Boris Vyacheslavich boasted to court and brought to the grass-bladder grass a mortal green postal for the insult Olegov - brave and young prince. From the same Kayala, Svyatopolk flew between his father and Hungarians to St. Sophia to Kiev. At that time, Oleg Gorislavich was sown and grew up in strife, the deceased of Dazhdboghjego (22), grandson, died in the princes of the princely man, declining. Then the Russian land rarely screamed the Pahari, but often the ravens were grinding, the carcasses dividing themselves, and the jackets spoke their speech, flying assembled for food.

From morning till evening, from evening to light, arrows are flying, calves flutter, sabers are knocking about the shoals, spears piercing in the steppe unknown, in the middle of the land Polovetskaya. The black earth under the hoofs of the bone was sown, and washed with blood; they grumbled on the Russian soil.

What makes noise that rings at dawn early in the stars? Igor turns the regiment: sorry for his dear Vsevolod brother. Fighting the day, fighting another; on the third day by noon fell the tomb of Igorev. Here brothers broke off on the shores of the fast Kayala; there was not enough bloody wine; Here the brave Russians finished the feast: they sacrificed the swatts, and they themselves fell for the Russian land. The grass slipped out of pity, the trees in the mountain to the ground bowed.

Already, brothers, a jolly time has come, already the steppe has overcome the Russian power. The defamation stood in the forces of Dazhdboghya's grandson, entered the land on the ground Trojanov (23), waved swan wings on the blue sea of Don: drive away happy times. The war of the princes against the bad ones came to an end, for brother brothers said: "This is mine, and that is mine." And the princes began to talk about the little "this great", and to commit themselves to slander for themselves. And bad from all sides come with victories to the Russian land.

Oh, a falcon flew far, beating birds, to the sea! But Igorev the brave regiment no longer resurrect! The mourning followed him, and the stenting swept across the Russian land, a fire of sowing (24) from a flame horn. The Russian wives mumbled, saying: "We do not think our own cute system, or thought, or think through dumas, not to admire our eyes, and not hold gold and silver in our hands!"

And the brothers grumbled, Kiev from grief, and Chernihiv from misfortunes. Thirst broke through the Russian land, the grief of many river flows among the land of the Russian. And the princes themselves murmur themselves, but the bad ones with victories run to the Russian land, taking the tribute from the yard for protein.

Indeed, those two brave Svyatoslavich, Igor and Vsevolod woke up evil, which was thrown by his father Svyatoslav (25), a terrible great Kievan: he was nailed up with his strong regiments and haruling swords, stepped on the ground Polovets; trampled hills and ravines; trampled the rivers and lakes, dried up streams and swamps: but a bad Kobyak from the bay of the Polovtsian iron regiments, like a whirlwind, was pulled out - and Kobyak fell in the city of Kiev, in Svyatoslav's grandson (26). Here are the Germans and the Venetians, here the Greeks and Moravs sing the glory of Svyatoslav, clothed Prince Igor, who drowned the prey on the bottom of Kayala, the Polovets River, scattered its gold. Here Igor the prince moved from the saddle of gold, and the slippery saddle. The walls of the towns were tucked away, and the fun had vanished.

Svyatoslav saw a dark dream in the mountains in Kiev (27). "At night, this evening, I was covered by me," he said, "a black cover on a threshing bed; I drew a light wine with me bitterly mixed; I drowned a large Polovtsian large pearls on my chest and praised me, and the roof was already without a prince in my tower with a golden thigh. , and all night from the evening Gray crows at Plesnesk were playing on the meadow. "

And the boyar said to the prince: "Crooked prince, your prince, captivated your mind: after all, two falcons fled from the background of a golden table - they wanted to get the city of Tmutarakana or to drink a shloma from the Don, but already the falcon's wings were submerged by bad sabers, and themselves were confused with bundles of iron.

It was dark on the third day: the two sunshades were dying, the two reddish pillars were extinguished, and both of them, Oleg and Svyatoslav, with their darkness flashed, and drowned in the sea, and gave great impudence to the bad guys. The light on the river on Kayal covered the globe: Polovtsy was scattered across the Russian land, as a broomshed porch (28). Already populated blasphemy for praise; already violated the will; already rushed to See the ground. Here Gothic red maids sing on the shores of the blue sea, a ring of Russian gold; they sing the time of Busovo, cherish revenge for Sharocan (29). And we, my wife, are already living without fun. "

Then the great Sviatoslav threw the golden word, mixed with tears, and said: "O my sons, Igor and Vsevolod! Early you began to blast the Polovtsian land with swords, and to seek for yourself glory: without honor for yourself, you have overcome, without honor for yourself a bad blood shed. Hrabrыe heart yours IZ haraluha krepkoho skovanы in otvahe zakalenы. What also sotvoryly vы moey serebryanoy Sedin!

It is not vyzhu I of force mighty and rich and warrior plentiful brother moeho Jaroslav c Chernigov bыlyamy, with mogut and from tatranamy, with shelbyramy, topchakamy , rovugi and olbers (30): t After all, without shields, with only knives, they beat the regiment with a clique, the title of great-grandfather's glory.

You said: "Let's marry ourselves, and take our glory to ourselves, and share the present!" But not a miracle, brothers, and the old younger ones! When the falcon breaks down the feathers, it whips up the birds, does not give its nests in offense. One trouble: the princes did not help me - a bitter time has come. Here in Rome screaming under the sabers Polovtsian, and Vladimir - under the wounds (31). Woe and sorrow to his son Glebov!

Grand Duke Vsevolod (32)! Are not there any thoughts about flying your father's golden table from afar? After all, you can split the Volga with oars, and Don scutters out. Here would be you, a slaves would be on a leg, and a slave on cutting (33). You can, in fact, throw a drought with the living spear - the vain sons of Glebov (34).

You, brave Rurik, and you, Davyd (35)! Your soldiers in gilded helmets - did not they swim through blood? Is not your courageous wife raving like a tour, wounded with sabers, burning in the field unrecognizable! Join, princes, in a golden stroke for the offense of our time, for the Russian land, for the wounds of Igor, brave Svyatoslavich!

Galitsky Osmomysl Yaroslav (36)! You sit tall on your golden table, you support the Hungarian mountains (37) with your iron regiments, the king (38) blocking the path, closing the gateway to the Danube, burrowing through the clouds, rushing down to the Danube. The thunders of your land are terrifying; You open the gate to Kiev, shooting at the far countries in the Saltans shooting from behind the golden table. Shoot, gentleman, and in Konchak, a bad slave, for the Russian land, for Igor's wounds, brave Svyatoslavich!

And you, the glorious Roman, and you, Mstislav (39)! A brave thought for a feat calls you. You take off so much for the heroic deed in courage, like a falcon, soaring in the winds that he wants to overcome the bird in rage. You have iron chains under the helm by the Latin ones: the land has trembled from them, and many countries - Hinova (40), Lithuania, Yatvia, Deremela (41) and Polovtsy - Salytsy (42) have thrown their own and bowed their heads under those swords. But already, Prince, Igor had darkened the sun with light, and the trees did not go to good leaves - they divided Russia and Sula into the city. But Igorev's brave regiment no longer resurrect. Don you, prince, calls, calls the princes to victory. Olegovichi, brave princes, have already been swathed for plunder.

Ingvar and Vsevolod, and you, three Mstislavich (43), not a bad nest of falcons, six-winged! Not by lot of victories you have taken your volost! Where are your golden sholomyas, and the Slychians of Lida (44), and shields! Fence the steppe gate with its sharp arrows for the Russian land, for the wounds of Igor, brave Svyatoslavich!

Already, Sula is not flowing with silver jets for the city of Pereyaslavl, and Dvina, at such a formidable polochan, flows misty under the cry of the bad ones. One Izyaslav, Vasilkov's son (45), made his Lithuanian helmet bruised with his sharp swords, broke the glory of his grandfather Vseslav, and himself under the shaded shields on the bloody grass was beaten with Lithuanian swords and said: "Your wife, prince, birds have wings welded, beasts the blood was polished ". And there was no brother Bryachislav here, or the other - Vsevolod. Lonely he dumped the pearl soul from a brave body through a gold necklace. The sounds of the voice were laughing, the fun had vanished, the trumpets were blowing Gorodenski.

Yaroslav and all the grandchildren of Vseslavov (46)! Already lean your shackles, put your swords in your sheaths, serrated ones - you have already fallen out of grandfather's glory. You began by your own sedition to bring the poor Russians to the land, to the estate of Vseslavovo. Because of the strife, the violence from the land of Polovets was violated.

In the seventh century, Trojan (47) cast Vseslav (48) a lot about the maiden, to him any. He was hanged, sat down on a horse, drove to the city of Kiev, touched the spear of the golden table of Kiev. From midnight, Belgorod flew a fierce beast, clung to a blue mogul, opened the gate to Novogorod in the morning, defeated Yaroslav's glory, rushed a wolf from Dudutok to Nemiga. At Nemiga, sheaves are made of heads, thinned with chalks, and put on life, putting the soul from the body. At Nemiga, the bloody shores were not well sown - sown with the bones of Russian sons. All the Prince ruled the people to the princes, and the princes fled the city, and at night he roamed the wolf; from Kiev to the cocks, the great Hors (49) wolf journey bypassing, in Tmutarakan got. He was called in Polotsk early morning at St. Sophia's bell, and he heard the ringing in Kiev. Although the soul was in a brave body, he often suffered misery.

Oh, moan the Russian land, commemorating the former time and the former princes! That old Vladimir (50) could not be nailed to Kiev's mountains. Its rivals are now Rurikov, and the other Davydovs, but apart they are lying, disagreeably singing spears.

On the Danube, Yaroslavl's voice is heard (51) by a seagull in the unknown morning, moaning: "I am fishing with a seagull on the Danube, I am sleeping my white sleeve (52) in the Kayal River, morning bloody wounds on the mighty body of his prince".

In the morning Yaroslav's crying in Putivl on the wall, screaming: "Oh the wind, it's windy! Why, Lord, you're driving so much! Why do you throw enemy arrows on your light wings on the warriors of my path?" Or it's not enough for you to throw high under clouds, cherishing the ships on the blue sea Why, my lord, I've scattered my fun on the pile? "

Yaroslavna cries on the wall of Putivl-city early in the morning, lauding: "About the Dnepr Slavutych! You broke the stone mountains (53) through the land of Polovets'kaya. You cherished Svyatoslavovye boats to the regiment of Kobyakov, and I approached the hostess, my lord, to not I slipped to him the tears on the sea early!"

Yaroslavna cries early on the wall in Putivl, lauding: "The bright and trembling sun! You are all red and warm. Why, gentleman, did you stretch your hot rays to the soldiers of the system? In the steppe, with an anhydrous thirst, bent on them the meadows, with a longing quivering quiver?"

The sea was frozen at midnight; tornadoes are foggy. Igor the prince, God, the path seems to be from the land of Polovets to the Russian land, to the contrary, to the golden table. They died in the evening of dawn. Igor sleeps, Igor does not sleep, Igor thought the steppe is measured from the great Don to the mummy Don Donts. At midnight, Owlur (54) whistled horse over the river; Do not let the prince die. Clicked; the land jumbled, the grass was whispering, the polygonic horses moved. And Igor the Prince galloped the ermine to the reeds, fell to the white gogol on the water. He rushed to the horse's horse and jumped off with him a gray wolf. And he ran to the Donets' meadow, and flew a falcon under fogs, beating geese and swans for dinner, and for noon, and supper. When Igor flew by the falcon, Ovlur ran out of the wolf; they hurt their boring horses.

Donetz said: "Prince Igor! There is not much glory for you, and Konchak is a dislike, and Russian land of merriment!" Igor said: "Oh Donets, it's not enough for you to be glorious, that the prince cherished on the waves, stretched green grass on his silver banks, dressed him with warm fog under the shade of a green tree, guarded him with gogol on the water, gulls on waves, ducks in the winds" . Not so, said the river Stugn; Having a small stream, she swallowed strangers streams and streams, drowned in a cliff on the dark shore of a young man, Prince Rostislav (55). Rostislav's mother cries for the young Prince Rostislav. The flowers were torn from pity, and the trees in the mountain to the ground bowed down.

That did not forty maggots - according to the trail Igorew go Gozak with Konchakom. Then the ravens did not grieve, the slaps were silent, the magpies did not shoot, crawling serpents only. The woodpeckers knock on the way to the river say the nightingales broadcast a dawn with fun songs. Molchs Gzak Konchak: "When the falcon flies to the nest, we will shoot the falcon with our gilded arrows." Konchak Gze said: "When a falcon flies to the nest, and we foolen around the red girl". And Gzak Konchak said: "When we confuse him with a red girl, we will not have a falcon or a red girl (56), but they will start batting us in the steppe Polovets."

Boyan, the old-fashioned actress, Yaroslavova and Olegova said: "Hard head without shoulders, misfortune and body without head." So the Russian land without Igor. The sun shines in the sky - Igor is a prince in the Russian land. The girls sing on the Danube, voices are casting through the sea to Kiev. Igor rides along Borichev to the Holy Virgin Pirogosha (57). Countries are happy, cities are fun.

Saying glory to the old princes, and then we will magnify the young ones. Glory to Igor Svyatoslavich, boutique tour of Vsevolod, Vladimir Igorevich! Yes, good will be princes and a wife, chasing Christians against bad regiments. Prince's glory and wife! Amen

(1) Boyan is a poet-singer; he lived, apparently, in the second half of the XI century; his repertoire ("glory" in honor of one or another prince) performed for the accompaniment of the gussies.

(2) Old Yaroslav - Yaroslav Vladimirovich Wise (mind in 1054), Prince of Kiev; brave Mstislav - brother of Yaroslav Mstislav Vladimirovich (mind in 1036), Prince Chernigov and Tmutarakansky; about his duel with Redeed, see "The Tale of Bygone Years" for 1022; Roman Roman Svyatoslavich - Roman Svyatoslavich (mind in 1079), Prince Tmutarakansky, grandson of Yaroslav and Mstislav.

(3) Old Vladimir - Vladimir I Svyatoslavich (mind in 1015); the present Igor - Igor Svyatoslavich (mind in 1202), Prince of Novgorod-Seversky, from 1198 Prince Chernigov.

(4) The Troyan in some ancient Russian texts is mentioned in the number of pagan gods of Ancient Russia; Troyanov's trail is a poetic symbol of a distant distance; means, if we take into account the preceding text, the following: "jumping (wisdom) - the wolf converging in the speed of the run - so far, where an ordinary person, not" believer, can not get."

(5) Veles (Volos) is the "bastard god" of pagan Russia, the god of abundance and wealth and, obviously, the patron of songwriting.

(6) Vsevolod Svyatoslavich (mind in 1196), brother of Igor Svyatoslavich, Prince Torubchev and Kursk; buoy tour - a bold strong tour - a wild bull, bison (tour - a symbol of courage and strength).

(7) This is a solar eclipse on May 1, 1185.

(8) See - a hostile bird to the Russian people, warns the enemies of Igor's campaign.

(9) Surozh - Sudak (Crimea); Korsun - Chersonese (Crimea); Tmutarakan is a Russian principality on the Taman peninsula, in the 11th century. which was in the possession of Chernigov princes and later captured by the Polovtsians; Tmutarakan idol - apparently, "stone woman" in Tmutarakani, honored Polovtsy and its volume attracted the attention of contemporaries.

(10) Reddish-red, colored blackberries (bright pink-red paint).

(11) Pavolok - silk fabric; velvet is a dense velvet fabric with divorces and ornaments, usually red or purple.

(12) Ortma - a blanket, a foam; Japonchita - a cloak, a cape (a word of Turkic origin).

(13) Native - valuable fabrics with patterns; precious things.

(14) Bunchuk - horse tail on a pole (a sign of power).

(15) In the march of Igor Svyatoslavich, four princes took part: Igor, his brother Vsevolod, his son Vladimir and nephew Svyatoslav Olegovich.

(16) Kayala is a river where Igor defeated; "Kayala" - derivative from the verb "kayati" (sorry, regret, mourn); river of sorrow, death, weeping. What a real river corresponds to the poetic Kayal of the "Word" has not yet been clarified.

(17) Stribog - one of the pagan gods of Ancient Russia.

(18) Haralug is a steel of the Western European highway.

(19) Glebovna is the wife of Vsevolod Svyatoslavich Olga Glebovna.

(20) Centuries long past.

(21) Oleg Svyatoslavich (mind in 1115) - the grandfather of Igor and Vsevolod. Gorislavich - the nickname of Oleg, emphasizing the vicissitudes of his fate. The "Word" mentions separate episodes of Oleg's biography.

(22) Dazhdibog is one of the pagan gods of Ancient Russia. Dazhbogiy grandson - Russian people.

(23) T. e. To the ground Russian.

(24) These are the fires that were usually accompanied by the Polovtsian invasions.

(25) Svyatoslav - Prince of Kiev Svyatoslav Vsevolodovich (mind in 1194), cousin Igor and Vsevolod (the father of Igor and Vsevolod, he was named in his position as the prince of Kiev). Speech here and below is a victorious campaign of Svyatoslav together with other princes in Polovtsy in 1184, as a result of which the Polovtsian Khan Kobyak himself and his sons were taken captive.

(26) Gridnitsa - a large feast place, where "grids" were gathered - the princes of the prince; Grizzard was sometimes used as a prisoner's place of detention.

(27) The dream of Svyatoslav Vsevolodovich, the prince of Kiev, is all saturated with images and symbols that foretell grief, misery, tears ("large pearls") and even death ("roof without princely").

(28) Pardus is a leopard, a predator.

(29) These are Goths that lived on the Taman Peninsula; every defeat of the Russians in the struggle with the Polovtsians - the closest neighbors ready - enriched the Gothic merchants. Bus - obviously, one of the Polovtsian khans of the XI century; Sharokan - Polovtsian khan Sharukan, grandfather Konchak; In 1107, he suffered a defeat in the battle with the Russian princes.

(30) Yaroslav - Prince of Chernigov Yaroslav Vsevolodovich (mind in 1198), brother of Kiev prince Svyatoslav Vsevolodovich; cautious and indecisive, he very reluctantly participated in campaigns on the Polovtsians. There were magicians, Tatars, Shelburi, Telfachaks, Ruvugi, Olbers - noble families of Kovuyev, Turks of origin, who had long settled in the Chernihiv land and subordinate to the Chernigov prince.

(31) After the defeat of Igor, Polovtsian khans, Gza and Konchak, traveled to Russia: the first - on the Family, the second - on Pereyaslavl. Pereiaslav prince Vladimir Glebovich (wise in 1187) was severely wounded in protecting Pereyaslavliv. Conchak on the way back took and ruined Rome (the city on the river Sule).

(32) Vsevolod Yuriyevich The Big Nest (mind in 1212) is the son of Yuri Dolgoruky, grandson of Vladimir Monomakh, the Grand Duke of Vladimir.

(33) Nogata, cut-a-small money units in Ancient Russia.

(34) The sons of Glebov are Ryazan princes, the sons of Gleb Rostislavich, who were in vassal dependence on Vsevolod Yurievich Vladimirsky.

(35) Rurik Rostislavich (mind in 1215) - Prince of Belgorod, and his brother Davyd Rostislavich (mind in 1198) - Prince Smolensk.

(36) Yaroslav Vladimirovich (mind in 1187) - Prince Galitsky, father-in-law of Igor Svyatoslavich; Osmomysl is the nickname of this prince.

(37) Hungarian Mountains - Hungarian Mountains (Carpathians).

(38) Hungarian King.

(39) Roman Mstislavich (mind in 1205) - Prince Volyn, and, apparently, his cousin Mstislav Yaroslavich (mind in 1226) - Prince Peresopnitsky.

(40) Khinova is a collective word meaning different unknown eastern countries and peoples hostile to Russia.

(41) Yatvyaz, Deremela is Lithuanian lands and tribes.

(42) Sulitsa is a throwing spear in ancient Russia.

(43) Volyn princes.

(44) Lyadskie are Polish.

(45) Izyaslav - one of Polotsk princes, grandchildren Vseslav Polotsky.

(46) Jaroslav, judging from the context, is also one of the Polotsk princes, grandchildren of Vseslav.

(47) In the old days (number seven is an epic number).

(48) Vseslav Bryachislavich (mind in 1101) - Prince Polotsk, ancestor of the Polotsk dynasty of the princes. Enraged with the sons of Yaroslav the Wise. In 1067 he took and burned Novgorod. Against him, the Yaroslavichi-Izyaslav, Svyatoslav and Vsevolod moved in. On March 3, 1067, a battle was fought on the Nemiga River, which resulted in Vseslav being defeated and fled. The Yaroslavites began calling him, promising forgiveness and peace, but did not keep his words: he was captured at Smolensk as soon as he crossed the Dnieper. Izyaslav brought him to Kiev and struck with two sons. In 1068, rebellion against Izyaslav Kiev liberated Vseslav and proclaimed the prince ("... touched the spear of the golden table of Kiev"). In 1069 Izyaslav, with the help of his ally, the Polish king Boleslava, returned to Kiev; anticipating defeat, Vseslav at night secretly fled to Belgorod from Kiev, and from there to Polotsk. Routingly reminding contemporaries of the events known to them from the life of Vseslav, the author of "The Word" was guided by the desire to recreate not so much the political biography of Vseslav, how much of his image, as he was drawn to him, was already poetized by a legend.

(49) Horse is the god of the sun in pagan Russia.

(50) Vladimir I Svyatoslavich.

(51) The Danube is a poetic designation of the place of action that is often encountered in folk poetry; Yaroslavna is Efrosina Yaroslavna, daughter of Yaroslav Vladimirovich Galitsky, Osmomyshl, the second wife (since 1184) of Igor Svyatoslavich.

(52) In the Old Russian original, the word "beyryan" corresponds to the word "white". The word "beybean" had two meanings: "beavers, pubescent with beaver fur" and "white, sewed from white silk fabric".

(53) Dnieper rapids

(54) Ovlur - Polovets who fled to Russia along with Igor.

(55) It is a question of the death of Brother Vladimir Monomakh, Prince Rostislav Vsevolodich, who drowned in 1093, twenty-two years of age, while crossing the river Stugun.

(56) Vladimir, son of Igor Svyatoslavich, in 1187 fled Polovtsian captivity together with the daughter of Khan Konchak.

(57) Borichev - Borichev vozvoz (rise) in Kiev from the bank of the Dnieper to the mountain; The Virgin Pyrohost - the Church of the Virgin Mary in Pyrohosti (built in 1132-1136); It is named after the icon of "Pyrogoshcha" (Greek Tower), brought from Constantinople.