What will I tell the story about, guys, everything was like that once, and if it hadn’t been, this fairy tale would not have been told around the world.
Once upon a time there lived a great gentleman, he had untold wealth and unlimited estates. His palace was made of semi-precious stones and shone at night as on sunny noon. Ninety-nine cellars, filled to the brim with gold and silver, were hidden under its walls, and around the palace there was a luxurious garden in which trees grew from all over the world. But it was not gold and not the palace, not the gardens and not the estates that the master valued most of all. Kyrmyz's daughter was his most valuable asset. She was as red as
spring itself, her smile is like a sunrise, clear, her eyes are like two stars in the middle of the night, her slender figure is like a ringing ear that sways in the evening under a quiet breeze, her voice is silver
It’s like the sound of a monist, and the dress she’s wearing is so beautiful, like flowers when the morning dew washes them.
For seventeen years, Kyrmyza deprived many people of peace, leaving them with confusion in return. The master saw all this and decided not to marry his daughter to the first person he met, but only to the chosen groom. Suitors flocked to them from distant lands, from distant seas. The master decided to test them all. He built a high, high staircase from the ground to the top of the tower from gem stones, two spans wide and with steps made of glass. He made Kyrmyza sit in the tower, and said this to the suitors:
“Whoever climbs up this ladder, gets to Kyrmyza, takes the pestle off his finger and calls it by name, he will get it.” The young men rushed as fast as they could to carry out the master’s will, but they all stumbled on the first step. Yes, suddenly a dragon appeared on a lion astride, the mane on the lion was upright, the claws were hooked; step by step he climbed the stairs all the way to Kyrmyza; The dragon took the ring from her hand and called her by name. The master brought his daughter to the palace, called the dragon, betrothed them, blessed them, and a wedding began, such as the world has never seen. All the people are having fun, feasting, the ugly dragon is rejoicing, and the bride is grieving, weeping bitterly, like a flower withering. The poor girl sensed that he, this dragon dog, was fierce. The girl was sad, yearning, but seizing a moment, she ran away from the choir and ran to the stable to her favorite Gaitan, the magic horse, and cried bitterly.
The horse neighed and asked her:
“Why are you shedding tears, good Kyrmyza?”
“How can I not cry when my father gives me to a dragon from someone else’s distant side; He doesn't need the living, he needs the dead.
- Be silent, don’t cry, don’t lament: when life is sweet, good wins and evil retreats. Tomorrow, when the snake orders you to get ready for your journey, pour me a measure of hot coals, put a golden bridle with silver bits on me and go with him. On the way, always stay three steps behind the bliss. He will ask you: “Why, dear Kyrmyza, are you driving behind me?” You answer that a woman should ride behind her husband. And as soon as he stops noticing you, take the saber out of its sheath and hold it in your right hand at neck height,
Yes, cling tightly to the saddle, I will gallop ahead, and the dragon will fall dead on the road.
Kyrmyza calmed down, returned to the mansion and somehow waited until the next evening, when the dragon told her to get ready for the journey. She quickly took the measure, filled it with blazing coals and carried it to Gaitana. The magic horse instantly ate all the coals. Then she put a golden bridle and silver bits on him. And so the dragon sat on the lion, and Kyrmyza sat on Gaitan, the magic horse, and they set off on the road. The bride is still three steps behind the dragon. And the dragon keeps turning around and asking:
- Why are you, dear Kyrmyza, lagging behind?
“That’s how a woman should ride behind her husband.”
The dragon, peering into the distance, galloped like the wind, only the dust rose in a column. And the beautiful Kyrmyza pulled the magical Gaitan by the reins, took the saber out of its sheath, took it in her right hand, raised it to the level of the dragon’s neck and whew!.. off his head. The lion rushed through the mountains and valleys and brought the headless corpse straight to the castle, where the dragon mother looked all over, waiting for her son and the beautiful slave. Early she rejoiced, now she grieves
She had to, and out of anger, the dragon bit her hands and pulled out her hair. And from that day on, she began to burn wood in a large flint stove, since she decided to catch the beautiful Kyrmyza, alive or dead, and bring her and burn her. The fire burned all year round, neither day nor night, without going out. And the dragon herself scoured the world, but could not find Kyrmyza.
And the beautiful maiden in a wedding dress sheathed her sword and galloped on the magic horse Gaitan through a green meadow, over high mountains, through deep valleys, through a clear field, through shady forests, across wide rivers, through deep waters. And by dawn the next day she galloped to a village like our Baraboen. It happened on Wednesday, it was a fair day, and residents of the surrounding villages came there. And since it was time to rest, she stopped Kyrmyz’s horse on the outskirts of the village in the market square. In one of the neighboring villages, let’s call it Frasinesti, at that time there lived a guy named Ion; He himself was stately, not offended by his beauty, but what a sin - he never managed to get married. Those whom he wooed did not agree, and he did not like those who wooed themselves. Ion was alarmed and went to the healer, who was telling the stars who was created for whom, throwing beans and finding out happiness. And this is what the sorceress told the guy:
- Go on Wednesday after dark to Varaboen for the fair and take the first person who arrives there, without hesitation, be it an old woman or a grandfather, a man or a woman, a boy or a girl. Take him home and live with him: so the beans say, they promise you happiness.
Dawn had just broken, the guy was already approaching the Baraboen fair. Gaitan - the magic horse - knew that Ion had left Frasinesti, and says to Kirmyza:
“Mistress, mistress, put your hand in my right ear, take out the clothes from there and put them on.”
Kyrmyza extended her hand and took out a pair of shepherd's trousers, a long peasant shirt with an embroidered collar and sleeves, a belt as red as fire, a high, pointed kushma, and a pair of posts with turned-up socks - all new. Kyrmyza got dressed, hid her braids under the bushma and began to look like a kind young man, slender as a spruce, wonderfully beautiful.
As the stars on the cab began to fade and the fog began to creep from the valley to the tops of the hills, Ion arrived, covered in sweat.
“Good morning, guy,” said Ion from a distance.
- Good morning! - he answered him. Word for word, and Joni speaks directly:
- Let's come live with me.
After much argument and persuasion, we went together to Frasinesti.
But no matter how the clouds cover the sky, the earth will, no, no, even see a ray of sunshine. So from time to time a look, a smile, a gentle word reached Jon, and his heart told him that it was not a guy who was going with him, but a girl, but he still couldn’t believe it. He thought, wondered, was completely at a loss and again went to the healer.
“Granny,” he says, “I have no peace from the guy I brought from the fair today: I look at him and it seems to me that he is a girl.” The old woman lit a coal, looked at the flame and answered:
- When in doubt, try it. The two of you ride out on horseback into an open field and race. If he overtakes you, it’s nothing less than a guy, and if he lags behind, you know that the girl is damned.
Ion returned home and, seeing that the guy was thoughtful, said:
- Let's go horseback riding, - Well, we can!
Having driven out into the field, Ion stood in his stirrups and showed him a large mound in the distance.
- Come on, guy, argue: who will be the first to go around that mound and return here?
Kyrmyza whispered: “Ride, magical horse Gaitan!” And only he saw her, and Ion was lashing his horse with a whip, but where could he be, he was not so fast! He had long since lost sight of the guy and was worried that he might not return. He began to drive up to the hill, and the guy was rushing towards the wind.
Ion turned his horse and whip, whip! with a whip, once, twice on the horse, but where is it going? While he was driving around the mound, he had already traveled around seven mounds and had been waiting for him in the old place for a long time.
Ion was too far behind the guy and now, with his head down, stood
saddened, ashamed. But he didn’t calm down and went to the old woman again.
She fanned the coal again and said to him:
— There are a couple of cartloads of poles lying in your yard. Bring him to them and ask: “What are these poles good for?” If the girl is a girl, she will immediately answer: “What kind of weavers for a spinning wheel, what kind of shuttle, what kind of spindle can be made.” If he’s a good guy, he’ll say: “It’s good to make a manger, or fence the house!” Ion returns home and, as if by chance, leads his friend to the perches.
- Nice poles! What should we make from them?
- Hey, brother! We could make a good manger and a good fence. And what kind of house can be fenced with such a fence!
Jon just opened his eyes wider and ran back to the healer, and she, having learned what was the matter, said:
- Go home and hang colorful towels, embroidered napkins and a couple of skeins of wool on the wall near the sabers, arrows, spears and maces. Once you have completed this, take your guest and let him have a look. If he looks at a weapon, you know that he is a man, and if he looks at the embroidery and skeins of wool, you know that he is a woman. Ion returned home in one breath, fulfilled the healer’s order, and then called his comrade, as if to show him a weapon. He stared at the weapon, took it off the wall, spit it in his hands, examined it, ordered it to clean off the rust and lubricate it, and immediately sent him for tow and lubricant to get to work. He didn't even look at the rest. Ion left the house saddened and went to the healer for the fourth time with a bow.
The wrinkled old woman blew into the stove, whispered her spell, told fortunes in her palm, and then said:
- Go home and throw the broom on the threshold. And take the guy with you and take him wherever your heart desires. And when you return and enter the house, be careful: if he steps on a broom or steps over it, you know that he is a man, and if he picks it up and sweeps it, and then puts it in the corner with a stick up, it’s nothing other than a girl.
He fulfilled the old woman's order. They walked around the entire village and are now returning home. “It’s now or never,” thought Ion. He entered the house and stepped on the broom, and his friend grabbed the broom by the stick, swept it around and put it in a corner. Then Ion turned around and hugged the girl.
- You are my beloved, you are my life, what is your name?
And then Kyrmyza took the kushma off her head. Long silken hair adorned her girlish face, and she looked like the clear sun. She looked into his eyes - she was happy with life, there was a smile in her eyes - and answered:
- Call me Kyrmyza.
They played a real Moldavian wedding, threw a feast for the whole world, danced the spicy dance, in a week a hundred friends cooked up a mountain of dumplings, a hundred groomsmen carried the news around the world where they could drink and eat, they say, they were hanging out in Frasinesti, everyone was invited to the wedding.
After the wedding they lived peacefully and amicably. For the sake of Kyrma-zy, the hard-working, diligent Ion worked from dark to dark. How long or how short did they live like this, but suddenly war broke out. Then they took Jonah, only he managed to punish: “Father and mother! Take care of Kyrmyza, don’t bother her with hard work, be kind to her. If happiness doesn’t turn away from me and I return home safe and sound, I will cherish you so much in your old age that you will want to live another century without bothering.”
Ion set off and sank into the water - neither a word nor a breath.
They didn’t know if he was alive or had laid down his head, but they were waiting for him at home. like a child waiting for spring.
In the midst of saber battles and the whistling of arrows, he managed to write a letter: “Father and mother, take care of Kyrmyza. The bloodshed will soon end, and I will return home. I wish you health.”
The old men remembered their son’s order and did not let the beautiful girl pick up straw from the floor. They cherished her so much, they cherished her so much that they were ready to go into the fire for her. And the man who was carrying the letter traveled for a long time or a short time, and at midnight he ended up in a dense forest. It’s pitch black all around, you can’t even poke your eyes out. He came across the house of a dragon and decided to knock and ask for a place to stay for the night. The dragon opened the door, let him in, fed him, then began to read the letters: and she found the one where it was written about Kyrmyz. Then the old hag pretended to be a hospitable hostess, brought the old wine that plays in the goblet, gave the poor little man a drink, and while he was fast asleep, she burned a letter to Kyrmyza and wrote another: “Father and mother, when this letter reaches you, bring nineteen carts of firewood, set them on fire and burn Kyrmyza. She has been with the dragon all her life. got lost, and then pestered me. I’ll return home soon, and if you don’t fulfill my will, without a second thought, I’ll burn you alive at the stake.” In the morning the man set out on his way. Whether it was long or short, he walked and brought a letter to Jonah’s parents. They read the letter and burst into tears. Hearing their lamentations, Kyr-myza came running, read the letter and also cried bitterly. Then she went out to the magic horse Gaitan, and he neighed and asked her:
- Why, dear Kyrmyza, are you shedding tears?
“How can I not cry, this is what happened to me,” and she told the horse what the letter said.
- Don’t cry, don’t grieve!.. Tell your parents, let them do as it is written in the letter, and as soon as the fire flares up with a violent flame, tell them that you want to die with the horse. Lead me to the fire and take out the folded handkerchief from my right ear, throw it into the fire and boldly ride straight into the flames.
The old man, in grief and despair, brought nineteen carts of firewood, stacked a large woodpile, lit it, and so it burned
a fire that made the sky hot. She took Kyrmyz’s horse by the bridle and led him to the fire, the flames of which were bursting in all directions. And when the parents covered their faces with their hands so as not to see how she was burning, Eyrmyza snatched a handkerchief from the right ear of the magic horse Gaitan and threw it into the terrible flame. The fire immediately died down, as if flooded with water, and Kyrmyza jumped into the saddle, rushed through the smoke, soared towards the sun, flew over the clouds, over mountain steeps, over flowering fields, over dense forests, then sank to the ground and rode at a light trot. At the spring they met on the hillside, Kyrmyza stopped her horse, jumped to the ground and lay down on the grass.
“Oh, my dear horse, your magical Gaitan, the time has come for me to give birth,” she said.
“And it’s time for me to die,” the horse answered and fell down dead. Kyrmyza fell asleep, and when she woke up, she saw herself in a large, beautiful castle. She lay on the bed and held in her arms two handsome sons, golden-haired heroes. The midwife stood at the head of the room. All this was done by the magic horse Gaitan. He protected the beautiful Kyrmyza even after death: his chest became a castle with golden towers, with walls covered with precious stones with silver doors decorated with pearls, his head became a table laden with all sorts of dishes; eyes and ears - two fierce wolfhounds that ran around the castle; from Gaitan's wool in front of the castle grew a beautiful garden with various trees, strewn with fruits, and songbirds, and from one hoof a wrinkled and hunched old woman appeared. She nursed the babies, bathed them and gave food to Kyrmyze.
Whether they lived long or short, the sons grew by leaps and bounds and became as beautiful as two flowers. One fine day, when they were running around the yard, an old woman approached the gate. The dogs sensed her, stood on the sides of the gate and did not let her in. Here the old woman says:
- Come here, my dear children!
The guys ran up to the gate, and the old hag took out three hairs from one belt and three from another belt, gave them to the guys and said:
- Take it! Throw them on that dog over there, and throw them on the neck of the other one. And as soon as the guys left them, three hairs turned into three
thick, heavy iron chains that chained the dogs to the posts at the gate, and the old hag, who looks like a devil with an evil face, her forehead like a block, her hair on end, her fists clenched, her eyes sparkling, rushed to the doors of the castle. The dogs barked, tore and suddenly the chains broke. Before the old woman had time to grab the latch, the wolfhounds grabbed her in the back and, well, tore and shred her, they finished her so badly that her own mother would not have recognized her. And the guys saw all this, got scared and shouted:
- Mother, mother! Come out quickly! The dogs tore the old woman apart! Kyrmyza ran out of the castle and when she saw an evil, despicable face in the blood, she recognized the old woman as a cursed dragon who had come along untrodden paths to kill her. She lifted the children into her arms, bowed and said:
- And it serves her right. All my life she followed me on my heels, dreaming of driving me into a grave.
They did not let the black ulcer lie in front of the castle, but dragged her bones far away, to a high mountain, and threw them there Under the burning sun, In the loose sand, So that the winds would whip, The rains would wash away And the storms would torment, So that the world would forget her evil deeds, There was no bottom for her, the witch.
Now let’s go back and remember Jonah: we are far away from the fairy tale
gone. Meanwhile, he returned from the war safe and sound, reined in his horse at the gate and shouted:
- Get out of the house, dear Kyrmyza! Receive guests, meet your husband! Where could Kyrmyza meet her husband when she was over three?
nine lands left him. The parents came out, cried with joy, and remembered Kyrmyza with tears. Ion, having learned about his grief and having read the letter, turned his horse and rode across the land far and wide: to the west and east, to the north and to the south, but he never managed to meet his wife. He was tired of so many untrodden roads, spent his strength in places where no human foot had ever been, threw the reins on the pommel of the saddle and gave his horse free rein. And it was in the Kyrmyzina Valley, and soon, as if out of the ground, two dogs appeared in front of him. They growled and barked, first from one side, then from the other, at the rider and drove him straight to the castle, not allowing him to turn off the path. The guys were in the yard at that time
played and, seeing the rider, shouted:
“Mother, mother, come out and see: some horseman has galloped up to us.” Kyrmyza came out, put her palm to her eyes, saw him and recognized him.
- Oh, my dear sons, your father is coming.
Ion picked the guys up, kissed them, and the four of them sat down at the table. They drank, ate, and then began to talk about their lives: for three days everyone talked, they could not stop talking, but sweet sleep closed their eyes. And when we woke up, we saw ourselves in an open field, not in bed, but on the bare ground, with our heads on a hillock. They looked around and saw that from afar a pair of horses was playfully galloping towards them. One of them was the karak Jonah, and the second was the magic horse Gaitan. They jumped on their horses, took their sons in their arms and rode home.
And I sat in the good saddle - I told you the tale as best I could, And then I saddled the cauldron And brought the tale to the end.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru