The La y of Ihor ys Campaign

I’he following excerpt, with the lament of laroslavna for her beloved husband Ihor, captures the lyrical beauty of this twelfth-century epic poem.

laroslavna weeps at dawn

On the walls of Putivl' city, saying:

‘O Dnepr, son of Renown!

You cut through the mountains of stone.

Through the Polovtsian Land!

You cradled the long boats of Svyatoslav Till they reached the army of Kobiak. Then cradle, O Lord, my Beloved to me, That 1 may not soon send my tears to him, To the Sea.’

laroslavna weeps at dawn

On the walls of Putivl' city, saying:

*O Bright and Thricc-Bright Sun!

For all you are warm and beautiful!

Then why, O Lord, did you send

Your hot rays onto the troops

Of my Beloved!

On the waterless plain.

Why did you warp their bows with thirst

And close their quivers with sorrow!’

SOURCE The Tale of the Campaign of Igor, translated by Robert C. Howes (New York 1973), p. 48.