The Center for Central Asian Literatures in Translation

In this world there was once an all-powerful khaan.  Everyone was held under the sway of this khaan, from the Milky Way down to the earth he had smashed their peace and happiness, and had created emnity and dissent.  He formulated a plan and sent out a decree.

The ruler's decree instructed everyone to take their gold and build up an ovoo, a golden mountain, inside the walls of the great palace.

By assembling so much gold, the khaan had constructed a peerless pole, and he said:

"My government in this world is fine and excellent.  To this golden pole I shall tether peace and tranquility."  But one of his attendants said,

"All-powerful and heavenly khaan, please deign to listen to these weak and stupid words of mine.  Will not this place become a focus for constant, obsessional greed?  Please offer us your insight."  The khaan said,

"If the earth is not fitting, tether it to the sky!"  And so the polestar showed direction upon the earth, and to the people of the steppe the golden polestar was their own golden pole, straight and tall.  The set up home according to this straight and tall star of their minds, they carried out their work, they made handcrafts, they wrote their long songs, they penetrated the secrets of the world.

 

We're talking about how, with the compass of the mind and the body, we find our direction on the steppe and the lie of the land.

It's said that the polestar has gotten slightly bent.

We were travelling one summer and, it being overcast, we were led to make camp in the cool of night.  There were no stars, and I imagined the darkness of night to be like a tunnel.  I had no idea that father was tying up the bundles.  He carried the loads, a song on his lips, and it was after twelve that we stopped and set up camp for the night. 

In the morning, we passed through our ancient homeland.  A man who was coming along the path said to father,

"You've started to move pastures but you haven't gone straight.  You came along this dirty cart-track without getting lost."  And he shook his head.

Father sat there, silently sipping his tea.  I felt myself wanting to yell at him, We didn't do it by day, but by night, in the pitch darkness!

But because this man came from the steppe, he understood how we had found the path in the pitch darkness.

Wander around, lost, for three days, they say, and then you'll find your way.

What you really shouldn't do is to ride around on a dumbass cow with your eyes covered.  The cow will just head home.  You should use what's under the cow, you know.