'With Poem-Bullets Around Our Waist': A Translation of Choinom's Poem 'Buriad' With Notes

‘With Poem-Bullets Around Our Waist’: A Translationof Choinom’s Poem ‘Buriad’ With Notes

REBECCA EMPSON & BAASANJAV TERBISH1

University of [email protected]@cam.ac.uk

ABSTRACT

This article examines Mongolian perspectives on the Buriad through the vector ofa poem called ‘Buriad’, written by the dissident Mongolian poet and writerChoinom Renchin during the socialist era. In the first part, we give a short biog-raphy of Choinom, along with an analysis of his poem. We suggest that the poemmay be viewed as a critique of dominant Halh perspectives on the Buriad, whileraising more general issues to do with historicity, political repression, youth, love,and Mongolian poetry. In the second part, we present the first-ever English transla-tion of Choinom’s poem, along with a Mongolian Cyrillic version.This is to add tothe slender volume of literature on Mongolian poetry available in English.

Keywords: Halh perspectives on the Buriad, historicity, indigenous critiquesof socialism, political repression, youth, love, Mongolian poetry

INTRODUCTION

This article is concerned with Halh (the dominant ethnic group in Mongolia)perspectives on the Buriad (an ethnic minority in Mongolia) through creativeforms of political expression during the socialist period in Mongolia, and exam-ines how these perspectives have been re-evaluated in the early post-socialistperiod. In particular, we focus on the work of the dissident Mongolian poet andwriter Choinom Renchin. We give a short biography of Choinom, along with ananalysis of his poem ‘Buriad’. In this poem, Choinom refers to poems as ‘bullets’worn around the waist. Following this striking metaphor, we suggest thatChoinom’s poem, as a form of political expression, provides striking ammunitionfor a critique of Halh perspectives on the Buriad during the socialist period, andfor issues to do with historicity, political repression, socialism, love, and youth.The second part of this article presents the first-ever English translation ofChoinom’s poem ‘Buriad’, written in 1973 and published in the edited volume

Inner Asia 11 (2009): 115–145© 2009 Global Oriental Ltd

08 Empson:Inner Asia 22/6/09 13:07 Page 115

Sümtei Budaryn Chuluu [A Stone from the Steppe with a Monastery] (Tsoodol &Sürenjav 1990). A Mongolian Cyrillic version of the poem is also provided. Thistranslation adds to the very slender volume of literature available on Mongolianpoetry in English.

In ‘Buriad’, Choinom describes the lifestyle and sometimes brutal history ofthe Buriad in Mongolia. The Buriad (alternatively spelt Buriat, or Buryat)2 are anethnic minority who migrated to Mongolia from Siberia in the early 1900s. Theydiffered from their (mostly) Halh Mongol hosts in that they tended to live inwooden huts (rather than felt tents), ate Russian-style soda bread, used differentkinds of carts, and spoke in a dialect of Mongolian that was quite different to theHalh Mongol who had, unlike the Buriad, lived under the Manchu (or Qing)Empire for many years. Many of them also spoke Russian, or had been educatedin Russian-style schools, and could read and write well.

Choinom addresses the first part of his poem to a Buriad audience, andexpresses his affinity with them and the land in which they live. He then shifts hisfocus to highlight the difference of the Buriad from the Halh, when he states: ‘Ina cosmos called Halh, among the stars called “people”, there is a planet calledBuriad with a misty atmosphere and a novel surface.’From this part onwards, it isclear that the author is addressing the poem to a (mostly) Halh Mongol audience,as he asks them to reassess who the Buriad are who live in a novel way in thecountry of Mongolia. In so doing, Choinom is able to provide a sustained critiqueof stereotyped views of the Buriad in Mongolia.

THE POET AS COMMENTATOR AND DISSIDENT

While Choinom asks us (i.e. the non-Buriad reader) to examine who the Buriadare, we may ask who Choinom is to be asking this question? Choinom Renchin3

(1936–1979) was a Halh Mongol man who grew up among the Buriad inNortheast Mongolia. His poem points to a detailed knowledge of Buriad cultureand history. Indeed, several sections of the poem are written in Buriad and thechoice of words and phrases show that he is familiar with their dialect. In thepresent day, this poem is very much liked by Buriads in Mongolia who commendit as an insightful redition of their lifestyle and historical experiences. Even so,Choinom is hesitant about writing in Buriad.4 For instance, in one part of thepoem he states:

I am sorryI have put my nose into other people’s languageSaying, unskilfully, these versesIf there are mistakes[I] wish you would change it into proper Buriad.

Like all use of dialect, this raises important questions of exoticism and represen-tation of the Other. Choinom’s humility shows that he is sensitive to the fact that,

116 REBECCA EMPSON & BAASANJAV TERBISH


as a Halh Mongol man, he may be transgressing when writing about the Buriad,but does not want to cause offence.

Choinom’s sensitivity to these kinds of political dynamics is characeristic ofmuch of his work. Throughout his life, Choinom practised various art forms,such as painting, sculpture, carving and song-writing. In 1955, at the age of 19, hebegan to write poetry and went on to pursue a productive literary career. Duringhis lifetime, Choinom wrote approximately 700 short poems and verses, 50 longpoems, three novels, three plays, and one long tale. He also translated severalworks (mostly from Russian) into Mongolian, including those by the medievalUzbek poet Alisher Navoi (1441–1501), the Avar (Caucasus) poet RasulGamzatov (1823–1903), the Bashkir national poet Saifi Kudash (1894–1958),and the English poet Lord Byron (1788–1824) (Gombojav 1996: 3–4). In 1990,after the democratic revolution in Mongolia, Choinom was posthumouslyawarded the title of töriin soyorholt yaruu nairagch [Mongolian National Poet]for a book of his writing and poetry, entitled Sümtei Budaryn Chuluu [A Stonefrom the Steppe with a Monastery], compiled by his many friends and admirers(Tsoodol & Sürenjav 1990).

Choinom’s poems are famous in Mongolia and Inner Mongolia for their fear-less subject matter and original descriptions. In his poems, Choinom openlycriticised the socialist state, its bureaucrats, the purges of the 1930s, and the lackof social freedom under socialism. While he often praised and admired certainideals of socialism, he was clear to criticise some of its more brutal outcomes.Because of this, in later life, Choinom was labelled a drunkard, a dangerousdistorter of the truth, a nationalist, an anti-Soviet sympathiser and a ‘politicaloffender’(uls töriin heregten) by the state. Prior to his denunciation as a ‘politicaloffender’, he published a number of less-politically orientated works that werevery popular in Mongolia, such as ‘Zaluu Nas’ (1961), ‘Altai’ (1963), ‘Hün’(1964) and ‘Uyahan Zambuu Tiviin Naran’ (1967). Damdinsüren, one of thestandard-bearers of Mongolian socialist literature and the man in charge of intro-ducing the Cyrillic script to Mongolia, praised Choinom’s poem ‘Zaluu Nas’,saying that this ‘literary work sparkles among current literary rubbish like crystalglass thrown on the dusty road’ (Baigalsaihan 2006: 66). The poetry thatChoinom wrote after he was labelled a ‘political offender’ was not publishedduring the socialist period in Mongolia.

Despite Choinom’s fame, his life was full of sorrow, betrayal, slander andhumiliation, which found reflection in his poetry. When he was 19 years old hewas sentenced to nine months in prison for causing damage to the newspaperpublishing house where he had been working for more than two years(Narangerel 1990: 31). At the age of 20, he contracted TB and this rapidly devel-oped into bone tuberculosis, causing him suffering throughout his life. Hemarried and divorced twice. It is probably because of his ill health, his domesticproblems, and his discrimination from the Union of Mongolian Writers, whichcontinuously refused to accept him as a member, that he began to drink heavily(Narangerel 1990). From 1962 to 1966 he was unemployed, but in 1966 he was

‘WITH POEM-BULLETS AROUND OUR WAIST’ 117


briefly employed at the Erdem Delgerüüleh Niigemleg (Association forDisseminating Education), where he worked for a year as a painter. In the springof 1967, however, Choinom left this job. Subsequently, he learnt of the death ofhis five-month-old daughter from his second marriage and that same spring heattempted suicide by lying down on the railway tracks in a state of alcoholicintoxication. In June of the same year, a ‘Day of Oral Poetry’ was held in theCentral Stadium in Ulaanbaatar. Choinom attended the event and listened withinterest to the poets. At one point, someone in the audience recognised him andcried out so that everyone could hear ‘Choinom is here. Let us listen toChoinom’s poems’. In response, the organiser is reputed to have said ‘We will notlisten to his poetry’ (Narangerel 1990: 6–7). At this point in his life, it is clear thatwhile the bureaucracy despised Choinom, he was very popular among laypeople.

Notwithstanding the ban on publishing his work, Choinom’s poemswere often passed around in various samizdat forms,5 such as secret hand-writtendocuments, or were learnt by rote. On 27 January 1969, for instance, a man calledDorj, who was the head of the Bayanhongor Province branch of the Ministry ofState Security, came across a short note written on the back of a timetable whilehe was drinking tea in the house of a man called Baldandorj. Dorj immediatelydenounced the note and the following day a case was officially opened againstChoinom, who was suspected of having written it. The note consisted of thefollowing three sentences (Narangerel 1990):6

In this uneven world,When golden things drown and bark [i.e. rubbish] rises to the surface,According to laws and customs, the talented suffer and the sinful enjoythemselves

Two months later, an anonymous poem, entitled ‘Poem to be Read to Myself’(ööröö öörtöö unshih shüleg), was found in an envelope addressed to a womancalled Erdene. The following is an extract of this poem:7

Our state deposed the previous state that had a whip,It replaced it with a fast gun,And did away with history, justice and sense,Turning people into beasts […]Our state is like a womanWho commits adultery with another man,The day after her husband’s death […]

(Narangerel 1990)

In this highly politicised extract, Choinom is clearly critical of the way in whichvarious socialist ideals were being implemented. ‘Another man’ is generally heldto refer to the Soviet Union. The ‘deceased husband’refers to abandoned Mongolculture and consciousness, while the ‘immoral woman’ is the country ofMongolia. Erdene’s husband Ochirhuyag, who had in fact secretly copied thepoem without the permission of the author, claimed that the poem was his own,



but he failed to prove it. Ochirhuyag was obviously trying to protect the authorwho was his friend and, perhaps, he also felt guilty for the trouble he had initi-ated. During the investigation, which lasted several months, Choinom wasrevealed to be the ‘real’author of the poem and was immediately questioned. Notlong afterwards, he was arrested (Narangerel 1990: 12–16). During his detention,which lasted for almost seven months (Dashnyam 2006: 47), six of Choinom’spoems were analysed by a specially appointed expert commission. The open-minded Choinom was examined by a psychologist, on the recommendation ofthe investigator who suspected him of being insane (Narangerel 1990: 29–30).8

On 1April 1970, the Supreme Court (Deed Shüüh) of the Mongolian Peoples’Republic (MPR) found Choinom guilty of ‘writing poems that insult Mongoliansociety and slander its state organisation, and spreading his ideas through thewriting of poems and letting others copy them’ (Narangerel 2006:15).9 This kindof crime was considered to be ‘an extremely dangerous crime against the state’(ulsyn esreg onts ayultai gemt hereg). People accused of this crime weresentenced to category A prisons where they had to undergo a ‘re-educationprogramme’ (hümüüjüleh hötölbör arga hemjee). Choinom was sentenced tofour years in a categoryAprison, where he was subject to strict control as a ‘polit-ical prisoner’ (uls töriin horigdol). While in prison, Choinom was not allowed toread or write. In spite of this, he continued to compose poems, dreaming that oneday Mongolia would be a country that allowed freedom of speech. In retrospect,we may say that Choinom sacrificed his youth, his health and the possibility of acomfortable family life for his political views.

Insight into Choinom as a person may be gleaned from his own self-descrip-tion in an unpublished and untitled poem that was recently performed in a playdedicated to him in Ulaanbaatar:

I am the beloved son to my benevolent mother,I am an ordinary poet among my friends,I am an oppositionist labelled ‘Dissident’ for my beliefsI am a guilty man because I have understood the state of affairs before others,I am an accused man because I grew up as a pasque flower beneath the snow,10

I am a lucky man because I was not left behind by the time that passes swift aslightning,

Yes, I am a poet

(poem accessed through: www.mongolnews.mn, 19 June, 2007).

RE-EVALUATING THE HORSE THAT HAS BEEN EATEN BY THEWOLF

In the early 1990s, perceptions of Choinom changed dramatically. Choinom’sliterary works suddenly became widely available when two books that discussedhis life and work were published (Narangerel 1990; Tsoodol & Sürenjav 1990)



and several conferences and events were held in his honour. Kazuyuki Okada, aspecialist on Choinom, notes that the early 1990s were a time of rehabilitation forChoinom in the Mongolian public consciousness. In 1990, for example, on a daythat publicly celebrated Choinom, the prominent Mongolian poet O. Dashbalbarannounced ‘today we collect many good words to praise Choinom; we feel pityfor the horse that has been eaten by the wolf’ (quoted in Okada 2003: 289).Dashbalbar went on to explain that, when he was alive, Choinom was torturedand criticised, but now we criticise ourselves as stupid for having done so. Okadacomments that this is a very honest reflection by Mongolians on their socialistpast. If space for this kind of reflection exists, he argues, Mongolian literaturewill flourish again (Okada 2003: 289).

In relation to this re-evaluation, Aitoru Terenguto has coined the term‘Choinom rehabilitation phenomenon’ to refer to the way in which politics andtime plays with people, turning them into ironic and comic toys (2007: 36). Wemay understand that the ‘toys’ referred to by Terenguto are the many creativepeople who suffered during the socialist era at the hands of disparate politicalneeds. The ‘irony’, we might imagine, is that while Choinom was condemnedduring his lifetime, his resurrection as a great poet and astute political commen-tator shows, in fact, what many people felt about his work, but had not dared tovoice openly. This effect of time and politics on the evaluation of people and theircreative work was especially pronounced in the early 1990s when Mongoliansbegan to critique previous socialist ways of thinking. Indeed, the story ofChoinom’s resurrection as a great Mongolian author appears as a common themefor many Mongolian artists, thinkers and commentators, whereby those whowere rejected or damned by the state return to engender respect in post-sovietconsciousness.

THEMES IN CHOINOM’S POEM ‘BURIAD’

Choinom felt the need to express his views and opinions, despite the sustainedthreat to himself and his family. In the following, we present a translation ofChoinom’s poem ‘Buriad’. Before we do so, something needs to be said about thestyle of our translation and the focus of the poem. Firstly, regarding the style:because the word order and the order of adjacent clauses within complexMongolian sentences is different from that in the English language, we haverearranged some of the paragraph spacing and word order of the publishedversion of this poem. We do not know if Choinom wrote this poem with anentirely different layout in mind, as the version we have worked from waspublished posthumously. Secondly, Mongolian poems tend to use alliteration atthe start of each word at the beginning of each sentence. In traditional Mongolianpoetry, the sections tend to be divided into sets of seven and sometimes thirteenlines. Like traditional Mongolian poetry, Choinom’s poem uses alliteration at thestart of each line and seven of the sections at the beginning of the poem have three



beats to each line with, approximately, four lines in each section. Its length andstructure suggests that the poem may draw its form and style from classicalMongolian oral epics. Indeed, it starts with a prologue stating what it will do (‘Iwill respect/praise the Buriad’) and then moves through different parts of thenarrative, as do traditional Mongolian epics.

We have not attempted to replicate the original style of alliteration or metreand readers may feel that this is a serious drawback in terms of getting a feel forthe rhythm of Choinom’s poem. This would be an extremely difficult task andbeyond our current capabilities. Readers may be reassured, however, that wehave paid particular attention to trying to get the overall feel of the poem,including retaining original Mongolian turns of phrase, for which explanationshave been provided in footnotes. We have also added commas and full stops,where the original poem does not make use of any form of punctuation.

While the first part of this poem outlines the Buriad’s distinctiveness from theHalh, in the middle part of the poem, Choinom reflects that this does not meanthat we (the Halh Mongol reader) should view the Buriad as some kind of primi-tive Other. Here, the focus of the poem shifts dramatically. Rather than delineatethe different customs and traditions of the Buriad, the poem reveals how theBuriad actually brought ‘civilised culture’, or socialism, to Mongolia. This partof the poem allows Choinom to draw attention to the suffering of the Buriad inMongolia, whereby their difference was emphasised by the Mongol state toassert its power and authority. It is, maybe, because of this transition in the poem– from praising the Buriad’s distinctiveness, to highlighting their very moderncontribution to the socialist state, as well as their subsequent suffering – thatmany Buriads cherish and admire this poem. As mentioned above, during thesocialist period, this poem had to be spoken in hushed tones and could not bedisseminated in public. Many Buriad men learnt of the poem when on militaryservice and memorised it from their friends. Tserendondog, a man in HentiiProvince, learnt the poem in such a way. As an adult, he would sometimes quoteparts of the poem and encouraged Rebecca to read it.

While the poem can be viewed as a political commentary that attempts torecast stereotyped views of the Buriad for the Halh, it is also very much a lovepoem that centres around Choinom’s longing for a Buriad woman calledSemjüühei, whom he knew in his youth. His longing for Semjüühei, and the timehe spent growing up with the Buriad, provides another kind of narrative thread.Here, we see how the Buriad (as a marginalised ethnic minority in Mongolia) aswell as Choinom (as a political commentator who was condemned during hislifetime by the state) simultaneously appear to struggle with their differentdestinies and attempt to recast stereotyped perceptions of themselves. AsChoinom has been recast in the present-day popular imagination, so too didChoinom attempt to recast the Halh view of the Buriad during the socialistperiod.

Alongside this narrative, Choinom elaborates on the history of the Buriad’sexperience of living in Mongolia. In so doing, he provides a sustained critique of



the stereotyped Halh view of the Buriad, who ‘drove the Buriads away’ (seepoem, below) and who persecuted them during the socialist period for beingcounter-revolutionaries. During the 1930s and 1940s, most of the adult Buriadmen in Northern Hentii were persecuted and killed by the Internal Ministry.Because the Buriad had links to their homeland in Buryatia, as well as to othermigrant Buriads in Inner Mongolia, many were accused of attempting to plot apan-Mongolian movement that would threaten the new Mongol-Soviet alliance.Others were charged with being counter-revolutionaries or Japanese spies.Throughout much of the twentieth century the Buriad felt that the Mongolianstate continued to suspect and marginalise them (Buyandelgeriyn 2007; Empson2007).

Choinom’s poem stands out against this kind of negative stereotyped view ofthe Buriad. Several key points are highlighted. For example, he refers to Buriadelders as baavai (a term of respect for an elder male) and states that they brought‘civilised culture’(i.e. a kind of pure or untarnished form of Russian socialism) tothe Halh, rather than the other way around. In turn, he claims that the educatedBuriad looked after the Mongols (or Mongolia) until the country became strongenough to stand on its own ‘legs’. In commenting on the misinterpretation of theBuriad by the Halh, he hints that Halh historians simply propagated receivedviewsof history based on Soviet/Russian ideas. Thus, we see that the meta-narrative ofhis love for Semjüühei becomes a foil by which he critiques widely held viewsabout the Buriad from within. The poem is, then, just as much a love story as it isabout the sustained tensions between different groups within socialist Mongolia.

In raising these ideas, Choinom is able to voice important issues pertaining totwentieth-century Mongolian politics more generally. For example, at severalpoints he criticises aspects of government policy. He bemoans the fact that theSoviet/Russian education system forced him to learn things which were divorcedfrom the necessary lessons of Mongolian life (such as the Cyrillic alphabet,which he refers to as ‘infidel letters’),11 stressing that Mongol culture is differentfrom that of Russia. By forcing Halh Mongols to question their assumptionsabout the Buriad, Choinom creates the space for an internal critique of statepolicy more generally. In turn, in recognising his inability to consummate hislove for Semjüühei, we learn of the inability of the socialist state to achieve itsgoals of establishing an egalitarian society, whereby differences, such as thosebased on class or ethnic divisions, could be eradicated.12 It is this yearning andlonging for that which never fully materialises, but instead gives rise tomisplaced rejection, that allows the poem to be read in many different ways.Indeed, if socialism could only be sustained through this ambiguity, whereby thestate promised to act with its people in mind but also administered suffering, thenthis tension is something that Choinom shows runs throughout different aspectsof life.

Finally, it is important to note that, while denouncing certain policies of theMongolian state, Choinom also praises aspects of socialism and the Buriad’scontribution to it. See, for example, the following extract:



The Buriads have brought on their backsA part of civilised culture to the Halhs […][Buriads] were shot down,While reciting on their feet the words of Lenin […][I] do not mean to judgeThe militarised ministries and officesOf those misty, foggy years,Neither do [I] mean to fight standing up for the Buriad.[I] just sing the praises of those foremost people […]

Choinom ends the poem by pondering where his Buriad lover is now. By endingin this way, we are left with the sense that we should not assume that we can knowall things, and that some things that we think we know are not always what theyseem. In a world such as socialist Mongolia, where memories had to be eradi-cated and diversity was something to be abolished, Choinom’s work shows thatthings valued in the past retained their force and the positive recognition of differ-ence still had a place.

ENGLISH TRANSLATION OF R. CHOINOM’S POEM ‘BURIAD’(FROM TSOODOL & SÜRENJAV 1990)

Buriad1973

R. Choinom

In the figured linen autobiography of my free – like an antelope – life,You left an inerasable print,Hey, my Buriad.

In the coral- and pearl-chained years of my friendship with my poems,You remained with me like a golden bead,Hey, my Buriad.

Among the half-filled glass of my arbitrary life,You tasted like a strong wine,Hey, my Buriad.

In the years when my body was growing like sandalwood,You flourished like an edelweiss flower,This is my Buriad.

Your tall hat,Your gown (deel) with wide edges,Your belt with threaded tassels,Your red leather boots,Your ox that moves noisily through the forest,



Your ford that crosses the river Onon,Your cream with wild cherry,Your flared silver pipe,Your strong brown neck,Your gladiate knife,13

Your gentle determined character,Your genuine hard-working temperament,Your reaper, rake and plough,Your fence, warehouse and campsite,Your cart with a curved rim,Your sledge with its trotting horse,My name, my poems and my heartAre all so attracted to you.14

I am well Buriad people,With my fourth fingerI sprinkle an offering of the best fermented alchoholic milk that splashes in a bowlTo the melodious Onon riverAnd I pray in my heart that I can rely on you, my baavais,15

Like I rely on the Haan Hentii MountainsAnd swallow it up [i.e. the alcohol].

In a cosmos called Halh,Among the stars called ‘people’,There is a planet called Buriad with a misty (budant) atmosphereAnd a novel surface,Hey, Semjüühei [the name of a Buriad woman],The golden key to this land still remains in my heart!

[In Buriad]My dear SemjüüheiSing me your sonorous songOf the golden Onon river that twinkles from a great distanceOf old sacred memories

In the midst of the night’s celebration,Flowers sway from side to sideAnd eyes sparkle full of dreams16

[End Buriad]

I am sorry.I have put my nose into other people’s language,Saying, unskilfully, these verses.If there are mistakes,[I] wish you would change them into proper Buriad.

Anyway, in my twenties,When I was flourishing like a firework



Those nights, when I was burning in love forA tough-bodied Buriad maidenSeem as if altogether intoxicated the joyful roundSeem as if ten wounded years of joy and sorrowEven now, hurtful memories still rise from my soul.Forgive me my Onon, my Buriad,I was both unpredictable and young.

In the glow of the brown-red open fireBoys and girls were bobbing around livelyAnd the shadows of their dancing legsSparkled like dew on the base of the lattice frame.17

[Then] All of them scatteredLike the puzzle of our destinyInto the belly of the dark night.The melody of a yoohor dance18

Fused each of us with each other,Passing from branch to branch of the growing trees.The feet of beautiful legsAre trampling around the curving river,And my heart is squeezedIn the narrow folds of her coquettish eyes.Her black pigtail, like the loop on a catching-pole,Whipped my cheek while she was turning,Her plump and soft handsAre hot like a burning flame.And the Buriad maiden got lost from the celebrationAlong with me, on purpose.

My little Semjüühei,Who, in the damp Onon night,Sat on the shaft of a cart andFondled me noisilyWith her curved lips.I wonder if she has forgotten?Though she has grown old and her hair has turned grey,Is she still gentle mannered?I did not forgetThe memory of my hot youthThe land of paradiseLong live my dark nights!

When the silver moon beyond the mountainsScattered its coins on the riverAnd tasted the elixirStretching out to the river’s bank,



The dancing light seemedLike fish scales scraped off with a knife and strewn across the crystal waterBy a Buriad elder from the Bargajin valley,19

[That time] my little Semjüühei whispered to me:

[In Buriad]My heart, my heart, my loveWhy are you laughing for nothingMy dear Ujin Eliden20

Do not go away in the morning.[End Buriad]

[When] She puts her face on my heartHer forehead seems more prominent than her nose.When she says ‘sorry’ in love’s languageShe seems more delicate than a Halh woman.Hey, my dear Semjüühei,[Woman] of the golden Onon, SemjüüheiI was so attracted to your sweet character.

Love burns in love’s fire,The woman as little as a nut cone,She was a nice person.In hard times she became a supportAnd was capable of making firm decisions.The Buriad woman with her bold character,

She was an extraordinary person.My good friend acquainted meWith that good-hearted woman.It is said that ‘when you open your mouth your lungs open’21

How right was my father.According to the principle of warriors who carry each other on the battle fieldsShe and I went out onto the poetic field,With poem-bullets around our waist.

‘One hundred hearts struggled to get to little Semjüühei.After you my friend,Ninety nine of them will be wounded’So said my close friend from Hentii secondary school to me.

From this point, I began to fight my way up to the peak of my destiny.

But I am not a Buriad,I am a descendant of the Halh BorjiginI was brought up on the saddle of a horse,In the steppe where the horizon disappears.



[When I was a child], I would not wear boots on my small playful legs,Neither would I put on a hat with tassels.I myself am not a Buriad,But I grew up fighting in the schoolyardWith small Buriad boys fromBinder, Dadal, and Batshireet.I never won [a fight], nor was I beatenAnyway, that is not importantThose years, when I understood the Buriad people correctly,Seem more dear to me than my secondary school.[Tell me] what shall I do with [all those] difficult equations ofChemistry, physics, algebra, and geometry?Is it not enough just to knowWhom to make friends withBetween Herlen and Hentii!

Believe me, it was better for my future to have my nose punched by a Buriad fistThan to have my nerves pounded with the infidel letters thatAre not worth a single spoon of soup in the rough life of a Halh man.That thing which is called life is not a book,You cannot write a letter with algebraTo a Buriad woman of the golden Onon.

The instinctively warm-hearted Buriad peopleAre the guardian spirits of Han Hentii, Onon and HürhWho gave birth to my dear little Semjüühei.They might approach you wanting to fightIf you keep your distance and do not make friends with them,They might stab you if you behave in an untrustworthy way,And cheat them of a glass [of alcohol].

For a curious stranger who does not know their character,And who observes them from a distance,They probably look like an unskilful oil painting,With their gown folded once on the back,And a stiff leather belt worn around their waists,And a conical hat with a wide rim,They probably look like a straw pile.

Looking at their two curved arms, like the bend of a wheel,With the ends of their sleeves hanging down,Their wide-steps which leave zigzag prints,Their yellowish saliva that is seen here and there,One should not draw the wrong conclusion.They are courageous people, the lords of this mountainous land.

After taking his axe out of its case,Stroking his hairy whiskers,



Spitting several times onto his wide handsAnd placing his right leg backwards,A strong man lifts his arm,The blade of his moon-shaped axe lands,Cutting the air apart,And resounds as it hits the wood.Stuck, half-way, in the trunk of a resonating black tree,Nature cries out in front of himWith pouring crystal resin.

In the hut of a hard-working Buriad manWho cuts trees in the secluded mountains,It is a kind of happiness to taste strong tea and bread made with soda.

In the time of haymaking,When the summer sky ceases to rainAnd the dust from flowers rise upThe sun and a human being stand against each other disputing over the heat.

In the valleys with rippling grass,Lines progress in a well-ordered fashion,Reapers draw a half circleLeaving prints that are leaning sideways.Like musical notes written on the sun’s rays,Dark green haystacks are lined up,Huge ranges are erectedBuriad men with strong backs turn the hay with forks.22

Their fat red women can almost lift a whole haystack.

In the evening, from an open-air stove,Vapours of tea rise into the air,They spread thick yellow cream on tasty homemade bread.

When the late month moon appears in the sky,And stares with lazy amazement,When the two poles to the entrance of a tent are bent like a curved leg,When the noise of the long ago fallen asleep tööday (little protector spirit) is

buzzing like a fly,When the tar in the pipe of the baavai is boiling and ringing like a mosquito,Stepping on the dewy grass,Calmly, a warm-hearted woman will appear [to a young man] like a shadow.She wraps her skirt around her plump shins,Leans against the man’s breast with her forehead,And whispers:

[In Buriad]‘My gray-haired baavai did not fall asleepWhen his pipe was still burning hot,



He wanted to get up,But my brown heart could not bear it anymore,So I came to see you, my dearIt does not matter whatever happens’.[End Buriad]

The hot-tempered young man sighs in reply:

[In Buriad]‘Eh, I would not find a woman like you across the river Onon, no matter how

long I searched’.[End Buriad]

From the end of the valley,Comes the joyful yoohor songs from the harvesters.They dance till the current of the Barh Hürh [river] splashes and floods up.

[In Buriad]‘Let us dance till dawn rises from beyond the big cliffs,Of course we, the young people of the same age, should have fun’.[End Buriad]

Pine-needles sway in their dance,Joy calls them to celebrate [i.e. the harvesters].Joyfully rocking,Who are they, these Buriads?

During the lunar New Year [Tsagaan Sar] their wives and children sing songs,Go on visits in groups and enjoy themselves till dawn,Drinking a hot alcoholic beverage made from black currant.

With their skilful white hands,They spin thread and knit socks.Their women are good at drinking and enjoying themselves,Who are the real Buriads?

Who are these Buriads that gave birth toHunters who observe the back of forested golden mountain rangesWith their hunting eyes as sharp as binoculars,[Hunters] who in the depth of the cold winterTrap the brown bear from its den,[Hunters] who sing songs praisingTheir squirrels from Bargajin, their pearls from Dagur,Their sables from Baigal, their elk from Yaruun.People say that they live around the Baigal ocean [Lake Baikal]It is said that they are originally from the Bargajin valley,In ancient inscriptions they are called the ‘forest people’ (oin irged).

Their traditions are distinguishable and their appearance curious,Their character determined and their heart pure,These fated (zayany) Buriad people emerged in hard historical times.



Wise baavais, the living witnesses of hard years,Can tell about their long lineages (ugsaa),The melodies that were cried out and the songs that were sung,The blood and sweat that was spilt in the chains of mountains to the North,

[They can tell] how the blood of the Yakut was mixed with that of the Tuvan,Why the Tungus became the Hamnigan,Why Barguds were separated and migrated.But how can Halh historians, who pull the rein according their parents-in-law

[i.e. who act according to orders without their own thought/mind], possiblyknow about this?

These Buriads have brought on their backsA part of civilised culture to the HalhWho have been roaming with their herds in their pastureland,Memorising Tibetan prayers,[Who] from the seventeenth till the twentieth centuryHave been living with their eyes closed.[The Buriads] brought the Russian language in the bosom of their poorly sewn

gowns.With their boots with dark strips,[They] bravely kicked away primitive custom.With their anvil that melts iron,[They] helped to forge the sword of struggle.

[They] got into trouble because of their excessive braveness,Sacrificing [themselves] to the White Baron,23

[They] were shot down,While reciting on their feet the words of Lenin:‘Stopping is equal to death.’

The Buriad dealt harshly [lit. spoke with a knife that has a wooden case] withstrange elements.24

Those who would not understand when they were told in Mongolian thefollowing:

[In Buriad]‘If you do not understand what revolution means I will talk [to you] with this

Mauser [i.e. will kill you], [you] rubbish thing [lit. you intestine].25

[End Buriad]

[The Buriads] were shot down by the gamin,26

They were also shot down by the White Baron,And [they] were beaten by lamas,Yet, they helped us to free our country.In response for their services, they were driven away on their lone horses.



Although I did not witness the 1930s myself,I saw many Semjüüheis lamenting and crying over their lost ancestors.I do not mean to judgeThe militarised ministries and officesOf those misty, foggy years.Neither do I mean to fight standing up for the Buriad.I [just] sing the praises of those foremost people who wereTranslators, instructors, commissars,Doctors of linguistics,First doctors, musicians, singers,Honoured teachers,Leading haymakers, agro-technicians,Drivers, auto-mechanics,Champion milkmaids, deputies of the Peoples’ Ih Hural [the Mongolian parliament],Who helped to build our nation in the years of marvellous struggle27

Who became the first wings in our contemporary civilisation.

In those difficult years of class struggle,When everybody disputed whether to plough the valley or not,Whether to set up communes or not,When, in the subtle boundary between wrongness and correctness,A Buriad would kill a Buriad.In those years we were following [and learning from] them.

And even now, if we examine the CVs of our intellectuals,We will probably find that a lot of them are Buriad.The hard-working Buriad gave a lot to my people,They made me understand a lot of things when I was in my blossoming twenties.

Hey, a bird called sparrow is flying over the cliff!Hey, I wonder from which place my beloved comes?28

My little dear, whom I got accustomed to when I was young and the sun was in itsyouth,

I wonder if she is [still] longing for me,My little Semjüühei.

MONGOLIAN CYRILLIC VERSION OF R. CHOINOM’S POEM‘BURIAD’ (TSOODOL & SÜRENJAV 1990)

БУРИАД

Хээрийн гөрөөс шиг насны миньХээтэй хоргой шиг намтар дундАрилшгүй мөрөө үлдээсэнАяа миний буриад.



Шүлэг бидэн хоёрын ханилсанШүр сувд шиг жилүүдийн хэлхээндАлтанхан эрх болж үлдсэнАяа миний буриад.

Дураар задгай амьдралын миньДундуур дүүрэн хундаганууд дундАагтайхан сархад болж амтлагдсанАяа миний буриад.

Урган төлжих насны миньУм зандан шиг цогцсондЭйдельбесийн цэцэг болж дэлгэрсэнЭнэ миний буриад.

Өндөр оройтой малгайд чиньӨргөн эмжээртэй дээлд чиньУтсан цацагтай бүсэнд чиньУлаан сөөхий гуталд чинь

Ойд хангинах сүхэнд чиньОнонг гатлах бирваазанд чиньМойлтой тос зөөхийд чиньМонцгор мөнгөн трубканд чинь

Булиа хүрэн хүзүүнд чиньБух юлдэн хутганд чиньУяхан эршүүд аашинд чиньУгийн ажилсаг аясанд чинь

Хадуур тармуур анжсанд чиньХашаа амбаар бууцанд чиньХатгуур мөөртэй тэргэнд чиньХатирч морьтой чарганд чинь

Нэр минь, зүрх минь, шүлэг миньНэг л эрхгvй татагдаад байна лМэнд амараа! Буриад зон.

Тагш дүүрэн мэлтийлгэж барьсанТаван шимийн дээжнээс чиньЯдам хуруугаараа сүслэн өргөжЯруухан Онондоо сэржим цацаж

Баавай та нарыгаа Хан Хэнтий шигээБат түшин жаргаж суухадАриухан ерөөлийг зүрхэндээ шившээдАмьсгал татан хөнтөрч орхиё.



Халх гэдэг их сансартАрд түмэн гэдэг однууд дундБуриад гэдэг нэгэн эрхсийнБудант мандалд алхан орж

Өвөрмөц гадаргуунд нь хөл тавьжӨвөр гүн уруу нь нэвтрэн орохЭрдэнийн алтан түлхүүр болсон СэмжүүхэйЭлэг зүрхнээс минь гарамгүй

Хол үнинэй ариун дуртгалХолдоо толирсон алтан ОнонойХонгиохон дуугаа намдаа дуулышХолширхон зантай Сэмжүүхэй минь.

Мүнгэн шөнийн наргиантай намиан сооМүльхэн сэсэг хангир жингэрМөрөөдөл дүүрэн юндэн соо ньМэшид олон гялар ялар.

Уучлаарай бусдын хэлэнд хуруу дүржУр муутайхан дөрвөн бадаг хэллээ.Буруу байх аваас жинхэнэБуриадаар нь болгон хэлнэ биз.

Ямар ч гэсэн хориод насандааЯлалтын буудлага шиг бадарч явахдааЧамбайхан басганы хайрын сэтгэлдШатаж байсан тэртээх шөнүүд

Цэнгэлийн дугарааг нэгмөсөнЦэлэлзүүлэн бялхаагаад хөлчүүрэх шигАаш болоод баяр гунигаарАрван жил шархалсан юм шиг

Одоо хүртэл зүрхэнд хөндүүрОлон дуртгал сэтгэлээс өндийнө.Онон минь, буриад минь уучлаарайОвилгогүй ч явлаа, залуухан ч явлаа

Хүрэн улаан түүдэг галын туяандХөвгүүд охид цогтой шоволзожХатираа бүжих хөлийн нь сүүдэрХанын шийрний шүүдэр шиг цацарна.

Тал бүр тийшээ хувь заяаныТаавар зөн шиг хувилан одожТас харанхуй шөнийн хэвлийдТанай манайгүй уусаж байсан.



Уран цэнгүүн ёохорын аясУргаа модны үзүүр дамжинУран овоо хөлийн өлмийнүүдУгалзрах голыг тойрон дэвсэлж

Намжир шидэх адтай нүднийНарийн давхраанд зүрхээ хавчуулжХархан гэзэг уургын хуйв шигХацар дундуур шилбүүрдэн эргэж

Аминдаа махлаг зөөлөн гар ньАссан дөл шиг халуу дүүгэжНадтай хамт буриад басганНаадам зугаанаас албаар төөрөв.

Чийг даасан Ононгийн шөнөөрЧингэлэгтэй тэрэгний арал сандайлжЧийрэг болоод зузаан уруулаарЧимээ нь ихтэй таалж байсан

Натгар жаахан Сэмжүүхэй ньНамайг одоо мартаа болов уу ?Насан ахиж үс нь бууралтсан чНаалинхай зан нь хэвээрээ болов уу ?

Харин би яасан ч мартаагүйХалуун залуу насны минь дуртгалХал үзээгүй диваажингийн оронХаранхуй шөнүүд минь мандтугай !

Мөнгөн саран уулын цаанаасМөрний усанд зоос цацахадМөнхийн уснаас зүүдлэн тамшаалжМөргөцөгийн эрэг уруу халит жийх нь

Баргажин төхөмийн буриад самганыБалиусаар хуссан загасны хайрсТунгалагхан уснаа бутрав уу гэлтэйТуссан гэрэл нь бүжиглэн байхад

Зүрхэм ни, зүрхэм ни, инаг ньЗүгээр инеэхдээ яанавшиYжин Эльдэн баархамниYглөөдөр бүү ябаарай гэж

Ононой жаахан СэмжүүхэйОнцгойхон надад шивнэж билээХацар нүүрээ зүрхэнд миньХалуун дүүгтэл наалдуулж билээ.



Дуугүйхэн ингээд наалдаж байх ньДух нь хамраасаа төвгөрхөн ч юм уу даа.Хайрлан хайрлан гэмшихийг нь үзвээсХалхын хүүхнүүдээс эрххэн ч юм уу даа.

Аяа хөөрхий СэмжүүхэйАлтан Oноной СэмжүүхэйАашны чинь хөөрхөнд би чиньАрга ч үгүй автсан юм сан.

Хайр хайрынхаа илчиндХайлах шахам шатаж байдагСамрын боргоцой шиг жаахан басганСайн хүүхэн байж билээ.

Эгзэгтэй цагт түшиг болжЭргэж буцашгүй шийдэж чаддагЭрэмгий зантай буриад басганЭгэлгүй хүн байж билээ.

Сайхан сэтгэлтэй тэр бүсгүйтэйСайн нөхөр минь танилцуулсан юм.Ам нээвэл уушиг нээнэ гэдэгАавын минь үг үнэн юм байна.

Дайны талбарт нэг нэгнийгээ үүрэхДайчны ёсоор тэр бид хоёрЯрайсан шүлгэн сумаа бүсэлжЯруу найргийн талбарт гарсан юм.

‘Натгар жаахан Сэмжүүхэйд миньЗуун зүрх тэмүүлээ юм биз.Найзаас минь хойшЕрэн ес нь шархлах юм биз’Хэнтийн дунд сургуулийнХээгүй найз минь хэлсэн сэн

Заяаныхаа оргилыг байлдан эзлэхЗамаа тэндээс эхэлсэн сэн.

Харин би буриад биш ээХалх Боржгоны үр садХаяа нь алдрах талын тэртээХазаарт морин дээр өссөн хүүхэд ээ.

Тоглон дэвхцэх бяцхан хөлдөөТоногт бойтог өмсөө нь үгүйЦанхаалж өссөн толгой дээрээЦацагт малгай тавиа нь үгүй



Би өөрөө буриад биш ээБишгүй дээ л би олон удааБиндэр, Дадал, БатширээтийнБяцхан буриад хөвгүүдтэй

Хэнтийн сургуулийн довон дээрХэмх нанчилдаж өссөн хүүхдээЯлаа ч үгүй, ялагдаа ч үгүйЯамай тэр нь хамаатай биш.

Буриад гэдэг чинь хэн бэ гэдгийгБуруу биш зөвөөр нь таньсанДуутай шуутай тэр жилүүд миньДунд сургуулиас ч илүү санагдана.

Хими, физик, алгебр, геометрийнХэцүү томъёонуудаар яах юм бэХэрлэн Хэнтий хоёрын завсартХэнтэй нөхөрлөхөө мэдвэл болоо биш үү.

Халх хүний бүдүүн бараг амьдралдХалбага шөлнөөс илүү үнэгүйБуруу номын үсгээр мэдрэлээ нүдүүлснээсБуриад нударгаар хамраа нүдүүлсэн нь

Алсдаа дээр байсан юм нээрээ шүүАмьдрал гэдэг чинь ном биш шүү дээАлтанхан Ононой буриад басгандАлгебраар захиа бичихгүй шүү дээ.

Хайртай жаахан Сэмжүүхэйг минь төрүүлсэнХалуун элгэн буриад зонХан Хэнтий, Онон, ХурхынХатуу сахиус буриад зон.

Наалдаж дасахгүй цэрвүү явбалНанчилдхаб гээд өрж ч мэднэ.Хуудуу гаргаж хундага залилбалХутгалхаб гээд дүрж ч мэднэ.

Зангий нь мэдэхгүй сониуч хүндЗайдуу газраас сонжин харвалТосон будгаар ур муутайханТовшиж зурсан зураг шиг

Дээлийнхээ арыг ганц нугалжДэргэр суран бүс бүсэлжДэрвэгэр шилтэй шовгор малгай өмссөн ньДэрсэн овоохой шиг харагддаг биз.



Хоёр гар нь тэрэгний мөөр шигХолуур дугуйрч бээлий нь унжаадХөмөн гутлаа гадагш нь өшиглөжХөвөөтөй мөрөө үлдээж алхахыгХатуу мохоор хуурай зажилжХаясан шүлс нь шарлаж хоцрохыг

Энд тэнд харсан төдийгөөрЭндүү хуудуу дүгнэж болохгvйЭл хуль хөвчийн эзэн болсонЭрдүү түмэн тэд нар мөн.

Балт сүхээ гэрнээс нь авчБавайсан сахлаа нэг шувтарчБарвайсан алгаа хэд нулимснааБаруун хөлөө гэдрэг нь гишгэж

Аажуухан далайсан хүдэр эрийнАлиман сар шиг сүхний ирАгаар тэнгэрийг зүсэн буужАрын модонд цуурай хадаж

Хар модны дүнгэнэсэн биедХагас сөөм шигдэх сацууХүч алдах тунгалаг давирхайгаарХүний өмнө байгал уйлна.

Аглаг ууланд мод бэлдсэнАжилсаг буриадын өмбүүл урцандАагтай цай, соодтой ёпоошигий ньАмтлан суух нэгэн жаргал аа.

Зуны тэнгэр хураа татажЗугаатай цэцгийн тоос дэгдэхХадлангийн цагт нар хүн хоёрХалуунаа булаалдан тулгарч байдаг.

Халиурсан өвстэй цэнхэр талдХанарсан жагсаал цэгцрэн давшижХадуурууд хагас гортиг татажХанарсан мөр гөвийн үлдэнэ.

Нарны цацраг шугаманд бичсэнНаймтийн задгай нотууд шигХар ногоон бухлууд ярайжХанхар том нуруунууд өндийхөд

Сэрвээ сайтай буриад эрчүүдСэрээ барьж өвс шордоно.



Бүдүүн улаан самгад ньБүтэн бухлыг өргөх дөхнө.

Орой болоход газар зуухнаасОлгойдох утаанаар цай ханхална.Өөрсдийн барьсан амттай талхандӨтгөн шаргал зөөхий түрхэнэ.

Хожуухан гарсан хоридын саранХойргохон юм шиг мэлэрч байхадМайхны амны хоёр бааданМайга хөл шиг дугуйрч байхад

Хэдийнэ унтсан Төөдаагийн хамарХэдгэнэ адил дүнгэнэж байхадБаавайн гаансны бохь нь буцлаадБатгана адил жингэнэж байхад

Шүүдэр буусан ногоон дээгүүрСүүдэр адил чив чимээгүйХалуун сэтгэлт нөмгөн басганХайрын болзоонд гүйгээд ирнэ:

Хоёр хөлийнхөө бүдүүн шилбийгХормой хотоороо ороон суужДураа өгсөн хөвгүүний цээжиндДухаа нааж ийнхүү шивнэнэ.

‘Бууралхан бааваймни унтана үгүй л дааБуцалсан трубканий нь намжаа нь үгүй л дааБодохо гэхэдэмни болно үгүй л дааБорхон зүрхэмни тэснэ үгүй л даа

Ийгэж л би шамдаа ирээбИрэх л гэж би заалхаа ирээб’

‘Аяа шамдаа л адил басганыг биОнон худар эреэд эреэдОлохгүйб даа’ гэжОмголон залуу санаа алдана.

Хөндийн адаг уруу хадланч залуусынХөгжилтэй ёохорын дуу хадна.Барх, Хурхын хатан урсгалыгБялхаж үертэл бүжин хатирна.

‘Yндэр хадын саанахааYүрэй сайтар хатаръя лYе тэнгийн залуушуудЗугаалангүй яахам найб’



Нарсны шилмүүс найган бүжнэНаадам зугаа тэднийг дуудна.Наргиантайхан, долгиотойхонЭнэ л буриад гэгч хэн бэ.

Цагаан сараар эхнэр хүүхдүүд ньЦангинатал дуулж бөөн бөөнөөрөөYүр цайтал айлаар наргижYхрийн халуун нэрмэл уудаг

Уран цагаан хуруугаарааУтас ээрч оймс нэхдэгУуж наргихдаа хүүхнүүд нь бэрхУгийн буриад гэгч хэн бэ?

Алтанхан тайгын ар шилийгАнчны нүдээр дуран шиг харжИдэр есөөр хүрэн баавгайгИчээн дээрээс нь зангадан дардаг

Баргажины хэрэм, Дагуурын сувдБайгалийн булга, Ярууны хандгайгаарБахархан дуулах анчдыг төрүүлсэнЭнэ буриад гэгч хэн бэ?

Байгал далайгаар нутагтай л гэдэгБаргажин төхөмөөс гаралтай л гэдэгБаялаг түүхийн эртний бичгүүдэдБалар ойн иргэд гэдэг.

Заншил нь содон, байдал нь сонинЗан нь эршүүд сэтгэл нь цагаанЗаяаны энэ буриад зонТүүхийн бэрхэд үүссэн билээ.

Умар зүгийн ян хөвчидУргасан удам, торнисон угсааУйлсан уянга, дуулсан дууУрссан цус, дусалсан хөлс

Якут, Тувагийн цус холилдожЯагаад тунгус, хамниган болжЯмар учраас баргууд тасарчЯвдал нүүдэл үүсэн өнгөрснийг

Хатуу жилүүдийн амьд гэрчХашир баавайнууд хүүрнэнэ үү гэхээсХадмын аясаар жолоо татсанХалхын түүхчид мэдэхийн аргагүй.



Адуу малын билчээр дагажАмд түвдийн уншлага цээжилжАрван долоогоос хорь дахь зуундАниастай ирсэн халх түмэнд

Эх дэлхийн соёлоос эмтэлжЭнэ буриадууд үүрч ирсэн юмОёдол тааруу тансар дээлдээОрос хэлийг өвөрлөж ирсэн юм.

Бараан тоонотой хөмөн гутлаарааБалрын ёсыг зориглон өшиглөжТэрэгний төмөр ширгээдэг дөшиндөөТэмцлийн илдийг давталцаж өгсөн юм.

Зориг нь дэндэж цагаан бароныЗолиосонд давхиад буруутаж үзсэн юм.Зогсолт бол үхэл мөн гэсэн Ленины үгийгЗогсоогоороо орчуулж өгөөд буудуулж явсан юм.

‘Революция гэж мэдэхгvй болЭнэ маузерээр ярихаб, сархинсаг’ гэжМонголоор хэлээд ойлгохгүй этгээдүүдтэйМодон хуйтаар ярьж явсан буриад,

Гаминд ч буудуулжБаронд ч буудуулжЛам нарт бороохойдуулж

Газар орныг минь чөлөөлөлцөж өгсөн юм.Газар орныг маань чөлөөлөлцсөний шандГанц морио унаад туугдаад явсан юм.

Мянга есөн зуун гучин хэдэн оныгМиний бие нүдээр үзээгүй чӨвгөд хөгшдийнхөө тухай уйлан дурсахӨчнөөн олон Сэмжүүхэйг би үзсэн.

Будантай манантай тэр жилүүдийнБуутай манаатай яам тамгуудынБуруу зөвийг нь тунгаах гэсэн юм бишБуриадыг өмөөрөөд тулах гэсэн юм биш.

Гайхамшигт энэ тэмцлийн үедГарыг нь ганзаганд, хөлийг нь дөрөөнд хүргэсэнЭрин цагийн соёл иргэншилдЭхний жигүүр нь бололцож өгсөн

Хэлмэрч, сургагч, комиссарХэл бичгийн ухааны доктор



Ууган эмч, хөгжимчин, дуучинУлсын гавьяат багш

Тэргүүний хадланч, агротехникчТээврийн жолооч, автын механикАварга саальчин, Ардын Их Хурлын депутатАмжилт бүтээлийн эздийг дуулнам.

Халиурсан их талыг хагалана, хагалахгүй гэжХамтрал коммун байгуулна, байгуулахгүй гэжМархайн Бат сүр бадруулан дэвжШархайн Болд сүх барин дэлж

Буруу зөв хоёрын торгон зааг дээрБуриад нь буриадыгаа цавчиж унагасанАнгийн тэмцлийн ширүүн жилүүдэдАраас нь бид сажилж явсан

Аягүй бол одоо ч гэсэн сэхээтнийАнкетыг үзвэл буриад олон биз.Ажилсаг энэ буриад зонуудАрд түмэнд минь ихийг өгсөн юм.

Ид цэцэглэх хориод насанд миньИх зүйлийг ойлгуулж өгсөн юм.

Хараацай гэдэг жигүүртэн шувууХадан дээгүүр нисээд байна аа хө.Хамгаас хайртай миний алдрайХаахна газрын үр юм бол доо гэж

Насны залуу, нарны эртэдНайзлан дассан миний алдрайНамайгаа санаж суугаа болов уу.Натгар жаахан Сэмжүүхэй минь.

BURIAD SECTIONS OF THE POEM, WITH HALH MONGOLTRANSLATION

Buriad HalhХол үнинэй ариун дуртгал Хол үнэний ариун дурдатгалХолдоо толирсон алтан Ононой Холдоо толирсон алтан ОноныХонгиохон дуугаа намдаа дуулыш Хонгиохон дуугаа наддаа дуулаачХолширхон зантай Сэмжүүхэй минь Хонгорхон зантай Сэмжүүхэй минь

Мүнгэн шөнийн наргиантай намиан Мөнгөн шөнийн наргиантай шиврээсоо бороонд



Мүльхэн сэсэг хангир жингэр Мөлхсөн цэцэг хангир жингэрМөрөөдөл дүүрэн юндэн соо нь Мөрөөдөл дүүрэн нүдэнд ньМэшид олон гялар ялар Мичид од гялар ялар

Зүрхэм ни, зүрхэм ни, инаг нь Зүрх минь, зүрх минь, янаг миньЗүгээр инеэхдээ яанавши Зүгээр инээхдээ яана вэ чиYжин Эльдэн баархамни Yжин Эльдэн эвий миньYглөөдөр бүү ябаарай гэж Өглөө бүү яваарай гэж

Бууралхан бааваймни унтана үгүй Бууралхан баавай минь унтаж өгөхгүйл даа л байна даа

Буцалсан трубканий нь намжаа нь үгүй Буцалсан трубка нь намжаагүй лл даа байна

Бодохо гэхэдэмни болно үгүй л даа Боcох гээд болохгүй л байна дааБорхон зүрхэмни тэснэ үгүй л даа Борхон зүрх минь тэсэхгүй л байнаИйгэж л би шамдаа ирээб Ингэж л би чамдаа ирлээИрэх л гэж би заалхаа ирээб Ирэх л гэж би заавал ирлээ

Yндэр хадын саанахаа Өндөр хадны цаанааcYүрэй сайтар хатаръя л Yүр цайтал хатиръяYе тэнгийн залуушууд Yе тэнгийн залуучуудЗугаалангүй яахам найб Зугаалалгүй яахав дээ

A NOTE ON TRANSLITERATION

We have followed a transliteration system that attempts to combine accuracywith accessibility. While the Cyrillic letter ‘x’ and the Buriad letter ‘h’ have bothbeen transcribed as ‘h’, we indicate where in the text the author uses the Buriaddialect. The following provides a brief guide:

О as O E as Ye X as HӨ as Ö Ё as Yo И and Й as iУ as U Э as E Ь and Ъ as ’Ү as Ü Я as Ya Ы as YЮ as Yu/Yü (depending on conjunction with front/back vowel)

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

We thank sisters Battsetseg and Batchimeg Ochir for sourcing the poem and forhelp with the Buriad parts, and Christopher Kaplonski for sending essential biog-raphical sources from Mongolia. Aitoru Terenguto provided invaluableinformation regarding Mongolian poetry and illuminated our original reading, asdid Kazuyuki Okada. Thanks to Tserendondog and Erdenebayar of HentiiProvince for encouraging Rebecca to read the poem so that she may understandwhat it means to be a Buriad of Han Hentii, Onon and Hürh, and for their subse-



quent critique of our initial attempt at translation. We also thank Libby Peachey,Eleanor Peers and the Journal’s two anonymous reviewers for their insightfulcomments and valuable suggestions.

NOTES

1 Rebecca Empson, Leverhulme Research Associate at the University of Cambridge, is asocial anthropologist whose work focuses on the Buriad in Mongolia. Baasanjav Terbish,Ph.D. candidate at the University of Cambridge, is a historical linguist who has worked onthe comparison of Mongolian and Turkish languages.2 Throughout this article we use the spelling ‘Buriad’ rather than the Russian spelling‘Buryat’. This is because: (1) this is the title of Choinom’s poem, and (2) this is the way inwhich Buriads in Mongolia spell their name.3 In Mongolian, his full name is Renchinii Choinom.4 Choinom’s hesitation at using Buriad may be due to the fact that the verses in the Buriaddialect are not written using ‘correct’ Buriad orthography (as the Buryats in Buryatiawrite). Rather, the verses are written as a Halh ear might hear Buriad. It is interesting tonote that Choinom’s poem ‘Buriad’, along with his other poems, have been translated intoBuryat by Dandazhabai Dashasharab (1991?) where, for example Choinom’s ‘sarhinsag’is transcribed as harkhinsag (or һархинсаг), and ‘butsalsan trubkanii ni namjaana ügüi ldaa’ is transcribed as ‘busalhan trubken’ namzhanagüi l daa’. It is noteworthy that thisversion is considerably longer than the version we have translated in this article.5 The term ‘samizdat’ refers to the copying and distribution of government-suppressedliterature in Soviet-era countries.6 In Mongolian: Alt jivj, holtos hövdög huul’tai / Alag tsoog ene horvood / Avyastan n’zovjnügelten n’jargah yoson bii.7 In Mongolian: Türüüchiin tashuur bar’san zasgiig tülhen unagaad / Tüünii orondhurdan buu barij öndiisön zasag / Tüüh yos, tör shudraga uhaan bühniig bas / Tülhenunagaad hüniig mal bolgoj baina.8 In socialist Mongolia, as in the former USSR, dissidents were sometimes declared to bepsychologically unstable.9 This official denouncement actually contradicts previous official denouncements,which claimed that Choinom did not allow Ochirhuyag to copy the poem (Narangerel1990). This small example shows how, even though one ‘official’ document could openlycontradict another, people tended not to challenge statements of this kind during thesocialist period.10 The pasque flower is a kind of anemone that is the first flower to appear in spring, oftenthrough the last snow.11 We have translated the phrase ‘buruu nom’ as ‘infidel letters’. This term is traditionallyused in Buddhist Mongolian writings for rival world religions like Islam or Christianity(rather than for the pre-Buddhist Mongol religion).12 Indeed, one could substitute the name ‘Semjüühei’ or ‘Buriad’ in the poem with theterm ‘persecuted people’and the poem could be read in a different way.13 i.e. sword-like knife.14 The term ‘өөriin erhgüi’ can also be translated as ‘unconsciously’.15 ‘Baavais’, a Buriad term of respect for an older male.



16 Literally: ‘a flower(s) is/are crawling with noise. And eyes sparkle full of dreams’(Mülihen seseg hangir jinger, Moroodol düüren nyüden soo ni). ‘Hangir jinger’ is anonomatopoetic word that imitates a sound. Choinom might be describing the swaying offlowers with the phrase ‘hangir jinger’. The word ‘flowers’ may be a possible metaphorfor women. This lyrical part of the poem is ambiguous.17 ‘Lattice frame’ refers to the inner structure of the Mongolian felt tent (ger), the base ofwhich touches the ground.18 ‘Yoohor’, a Buriad collective round dance.19 The author is presumably referring to the area commonly known as Barguzin.20 ‘My dear’, lit. ‘baarhamni’, a Buriad term of endearment used for small children.21 The Mongolian proverb ‘when you open your mouth, your lungs open’ can be under-stood to mean ‘if you want to say something you have to say it’, or ‘if you open yourmouth, you have to speak your mind’.22 The term ‘servee’ referrs to a prominent bone at the base of the neck. ‘Servee saitai’means ‘with a good bone protruding at the base of the neck’ (lit. with an attractive body).23 The ‘White Baron’ refers to Baron Robert Nickolaus Maximillian Ungern vonSternberg (1886–1921) who passed through this area, gathering troops on his way to Urga.Many Buriad men joined him in his attempt to release the Bogd Haan from Chineseimprisonment, while others also fought against him and for the Soviets. ‘Sacrificing them-selves to the White Baron’ could mean both sacrificing themselves to him, as well as forhim in battle, and in the aftermath of accusations.24 The term ‘elements’ (etgeed) was used in the socialist period to refer to strange,factional or different thoughts that did not coincide with socialist thinking.25 The term ‘Mauser’ refers to the Mauser brand of pistol. Curiously, the line, ‘If you donot understand what revolution means, I will talk to you with this Mauser’ has also beennoted by Atwood (2002) in accounts of the 1928 Barga Revolution in Inner Mongolia,where, the term ‘Mauser’appears in a couplet, coupled with the term ‘colt’.26 The Mongolian word ‘gamin’ comes from the Chinese word ‘geming’, meaning ‘revo-lution’. This was the watchword of the 1911 Revolution, and hence became the term forthe subsequent Chinese soldiers in Mongolia in 1919–1921. The term does not refer to theGuomindang, or the Nationalist Party, which did not become a factor in Sino-Mongolianrelations until after 1924. In the twentieth century, the term ‘gamin’ became a word ofabuse in Mongolia. It was hard for socialist-era Mongolian historians to explain how theterm ‘revolution’ could become a word of abuse. Instead, it was easier for them to claimthat the term ‘gamin’ referred to the Guomindang (personal communication from anony-mous reviewer). It is interesting to note, however, that among present-day Buriad inMongolia, the term is used to refer to the burnt and blackened trees that are left standingafter a forest fire, alluding to the dead Chinese soldiers left behind after battle in the 1911Revolution.27 Literally, those ‘who made (our) hands reach saddle-thongs, and legs reach stirrups’(garyg n’ ganzagand, höliig n’ döröönd hürgesen), meaning to bring up, educate, to lookafter someone till he/she is big enough to look after himself/herself.28 The literal translation of this line is ambiguous. Presumably the author knows where hislover is from, but he may be wondering where from exactly or where she is now. Offspring‘ür’, lit. seed. The same word is used for animals, humans, plants, and karmic deeds.



REFERENCES

Atwood, C.P. 2002. Young Mongols and Vigilantes in Inner Mongolia’s InterregnumDecades, 1911–1931 (Vol. 2.). Leiden & Boston: Brill. Brill’s Inner Asian LibraryXXII.

Baigalsaihan, S. 2006. R. Choinomyn Uran Büteeliin Ontslog [The Pecularities of theWorks of R. Choinom], in L. Dashnyam & D. Ganbold (ed.), Choinomyn Am’dral,Uran Büteel [The Life and Works of R. Choinom]. Papers presented at a conferencededicated to Choinom’s 70th birthday, Choinom Studies 1: 58–73. Ulaanbaatar:Jicom Press.

Buyandelgeriyn, M. 2007. Dealing with Uncertainty: Shamans, marginal capitalism,and the remaking of history in postsocialist Mongolia, American Ethnologist 34(1):127–47.

Dashasharab, D. [1991?]. R. Choinom’s Buryat. Ulaanbaatar: MNR-ei Undesniimedeeleliin töv pp: 8–23, 24–38.

Dashnyam, L. 2006. R. Choinomyn Am’dral, Uran Büteeliin Tuhai Toimhon Ögüülehn’, [Short Introduction to the Life and Works of Choinom], L. Dashnyam & D.Ganbold (ed.), Choinomyn Am’dral, Uran Büteel [The Life and Works of R.Choinom]. Papers presented at a conference dedicated to Choinom’s 70th birthday,Choinom Studies 1: 35–57. Ulaanbaatar: Jicom Press.

Empson, R. 2007. Enlivened Memories: Recalling Absence and Loss in Mongolia, in J.Carsten (ed.), Ghosts of Memory: Essays on Remembrance and Relatedness.Oxford: Blackwell.

Gombojav, T. 1996. Horvood Üldeeh Duun [Song Left in This World]. Ulaanbaatar:Ünet Tsaas Press.

Narangerel, S. 1990. Choinomd Tulgasan Yal [The Conviction of Choinom].Ulaanbaatar: Mongol Uran Zohiol Press.

2006. Yaruu Nairagch R. Choinom ba Uls Töriin Helmegdüülelt [Poet R. Choinomand the Political Repression], in L. Dashnyam & D. Ganbold (ed.), ChoinomynAm’dral, Uran Büteel [The Life and Works of R. Choinom]. Papers presented at aconference dedicated to Choinom’s 70th birthday, Choinom Studies 1: 8–21.Ulaanbaatar: Jicom Press.

Okada, K. 2003. Mongolian Democracy and the Revival of the Mongolian Poet R.Choinom, in Y. Shibayama & K. Okada (ed.), Mongoru Bungaku e no Izanai[Introduction to Mongolian Literature]: 278–91. Tokyo: Akashi Shoten Press.

Terenguto, A. 2007. Book Review of Y. Shibayama & K. Okada (ed.), Mongorubungaku e no Izanai [Introduction to Mongolian Literature]. Hikaku Bungaku[Journal of Comparative Literature] 50: 33–6.

Choinom, R. 1990 [1973]. Buriad, in Tsoodol, D. & Sürenjav, Sh. (ed.) Sümtei BudarynChuluu [A Stone from the Steppe with a Monastery]. Ulaanbaatar: Ulsyn HevleliinGazar, State Press.




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'With Poem-Bullets Around Our Waist': A Translation of Choinom's Poem 'Buriad' With Notes

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