Verse:Kyrdan/Literature

Pre-Iktarenen literature

Hē ōhaulau

The Hē ōhaulau (lit. “Glory to the Two of You”) is a traditional Kirtumur prayer addressing two higher Entiris: the Green Goddess and the Blue God.

Old Kērsal	Kirtumur Umunesal	English
Fea ōqaulaqu, Uɣaluɣala Entirik, Ta-ŋelin mukhannu-šuwa, Ōqaimuri ifnu.	Hē ōhaulau, Entirak ualuala, Taŋelin mukhannušuwa, Ōheimuri emnu.	Glory to you two, Oh Great Gods, You are the creators of all life, Aethereal beings.

The poem is constructed in hōculawak (lit. “eight steps”) — a traditional poetic meter, used mostly for prayers and songs. According to the old tradition, instead of counting syllables, morae are counted (which treat long vowels as two morae, but doesn't treat a syllable coda as a separate mora). So in the prayer above each row contains exactly eight morae, hence the name “eight steps”.

Old Ķyrdum Love Song

The Old Ķyrdum love song from the river Yōˀnam is an ancient love poem, written approximately two thousand years BA (Before Ascending). This is one of the few known Old Ķyrdum texts. The language of this poem is different both from the local Cirdamur variety and from any other preserved Kyrdan language, retaining many archaisms in terms of both phonology and grammar.  The text is carved in a stone tablet and is the only surviving recording of this poem. It was likely meant for singing, but the melody was not recorded. It is sometimes viewed as an ancient love spell, rather than a simple proclamation of love, as such spells were often find on stone tablets.

Old Ķyrdum	English
Fūlmərabanī. Wenřusī ləgomķin. Kətūrappanī. Xa gilāqəšwe Aiwū niǯī. Gilāqūr giǯim, Niwəsāk tagəyi, Elirpāq tagəyi Ķə ənlipam tagəyi. Āxwi, igədidə Awə īzmiri ķə, Īzmir-īzmirdən.	May you become the one loving. Embrace me completely. May you not go away. And with your mind Be with me in the cosmos. In your mind I am with you, Like stars, Like heaven, And like the Earth. I am you, we are one From now and forever, In all of eternity.

The poem is written in a logographic script, so the pronunciation of words is reconstructed based on what is known about the Old Ķyrdum phonology, the reconstruction itself is approximated, since not all aspects of phonology is understood. The structure of this poem is, again, based on the concept of morae — every row contains exactly seven morae, while rhyming is of a secondary importance, as there are rows that don't rhyme.

Post-Iktarenen literature

Entiri Lumutaknen

The Entiri Lumutaknen (/ɛn.ˈti.ri. lu.ˈmu.tɑk.nɛn/; lit. “Gods' songs”), often referred to as the Lumutak, is a scripture that contains a hundred poems and is part of the larger epic Enlipam Kharanna (Umunesal: Enlipam Kharanen) (the fourth, or the last part), dated to the first century AA (After Ascending) and written in Erepursal. Being a canonical part of the “Kharanna” is considered to be one of the holy scriptures for the Kyrdan religion.

The Lumutak is set in a narrative framework of the nobleman Thykwari's series of dreams, in which he meets with two Entiris: Reikhentiri (the Yellow God) and Ylkentiri (the Violet God), two of the eight manifestations of the fundamental force of the Universe. At the start his journey to the Urukum, Thykwari seeks knowledge, dealing with a moral dilemma and despair about the situation after the Iktarenen (Ascending of two main deities) and what changes will the growing instability in the continent bring to his own kin. The Yellow and Violet Gods talk to Thykwari to calm his worries and tell him the wisdom to fulfill his duty and obtain inner peace”. The dialogues cover a broad range of spiritual topics, touching upon various philosophical subjects that go far beyond the socio-political instability in the region. Although it tells about Thykwari of the House of Eirekentur, the poem itself was not written by him, but rather by multiple unknown authors from the southern part of the Tilkirik region, from which most of Erepursal literature originated.

The Lumutak is a poem written in the Kirtumur language (the Erepursal variety, which contains many loanwords from Kērsalur). Its hundred verses are structured into several Kyrdan poetic meters, called, munaltarkan. The munaltarkans consist of two (sometimes more) alternating couplets with a strict amount of syllables (from six to nine). The metered verse does not always rhyme, except for a few short verses. While the munaltarkan is the principal meter in the Lumutak, it does deploy other elements of prosody, for example, it occasionally uses the hōyaklawak (lit. “eleven steps”) meter , where a line of a verse contains exactly eleven syllables.

Here are some verses from the Lumutak:

Verse 3

Kirtumur

English

Ha Thykwari eitum: Zakurtume i-war Alōmax, Ō War Ōhaimurax, War inymax, Aiwerentirē? Kha-war ankwyl thēni, Kha-war ankelauma Ō yim niyicharšaux? Khōn kal nimōwamō? Phakkalamentiri eitum: Alōm antuimikalax, Ōhaimuri khȳn elpamax, Inym ŋikniri chik thātnu Naxarxyrin auhanimax. Ō he ankwyl yeŋerax Inymšen nanecauni. Ankelauma millanax, Antam kha nim neimuax. Zappalak lathachia, Ŋelin lathattachia. He ankelauma ankwyl naxawatak Ō he nim yicharauxawa, Thykwarē. Nikalnen, nexikala mezamathin, Ankwylnen aimme neisalue, Nakāl, ši antu Ōhaimuri Niyiyalō Alōmešneax.

Thykwari said: Tell me, please, what is “Alom”, What is “Ohaimuri” And what is “inym”, oh Heavenly Entiris? And what “ankwyl” means, And what is “ankelauma” Here in these bodies of yours [your manifestations]? How at death are you to be known by us? The Graceful [Violet God] said: “Alom” is everything imperishable, “Ohaimuri” is the whole reality, “Inym” is an inherent nature of the individual, Which originates from the creative power. And “ankwyl” is this power Nourished by your “inym”. “Ankelauma” is the perishable nature, It is everywhere, both inside and outside. It gives you abilities, It allows you to live. Both ankelauma and ankwyl are Us [Entiris], Both are here, in the bodies of ours, Thykwari. At their death, who dies remembering us [the Entiris], Their ankwyl go to our state of being, Therefore, everything in Ohaimuri Is transformed, becoming Alom.

Verse 11

Kirtumur

English

Ka Reikhentiri eitum: Taŋātax, i-namer kha Ō mi nammelmelum-ta, Anam lamtum khēmixa Zalur ku miŋkataiska, Ta-tumēni lataxa. Taŋātax, i-šikhēni Anamak miŋkataista, Li namkalum eř-ta, Ta-tumēni cheiřaxa. Taŋātax, i-tōkhēni Kaltyrumak wirkimi, Ŋwaur li nathattȳrakha, Natra mezappalin-ta, Hul-elpaur tōkhēni mu, Ta-tumēni hazaxa.

And so, the Yellow God said: That action, which is ordained And free from attachment, Performed without desire or hate With no wish to obtain fruit, That is said to be “lata”. That action, which is performed With a wish to obtain desires, Or which is [done] with much effort, That is said to be “tseira”. That action, undertaken Disregarding consequences, Loss, or injury to others, As well as one’s own ability, That is said to be “hatha”.

Munumkōri ō milu

Munumkōri ō milu (original Erepursal: Ekkarini ka mylu; lit. “the Monk and the two Spirits”) is a folk tale, early versions of which are found in both Umu and Kappalu. There are several variants of this tale, but the earliest version was recorded in Erepursal. Originally, it was a simple story for children, likely loosely based on a real event, but some later versions eventually turned into a fable, the moral lessons of which differ and depend on the context in which they are told. The original text contains many loanwords from Kērsalur and is no longer understood by modern Kirtumur speakers, who haven't learnt Erepursal.

Erepursal text (Kērsal words are in italic)

Ninamikim ekkarini mauz pilnu phaleim eniyineŋale. Yiŋiri nel ekkariniax ka yu phaleim eyēra, ka mauz citra khurkila-ka.

Ekkarines phaleim munkyk nitutunē, inmēnkiŋ cu liawa melilku iphazina eŋynenēk. Tawa Eilkurmur-myli Itirȳlixawa.

Eilkurmur-myli eitum: “Mušapakkur kurkapiyu. Yikes taŋiri phaleim cepakireisē imenlekhis khymexa, nenēla am areisin.”

Itirȳli ikintanireikka, uterke eineyartam: “Yreha, payisa,” eitum.

Nim calam kywanu ekkarines muŋis khiŋ ikexnu ehuššē tautra eweizē ka neiharat mualtahur. Hēkkir ōrnu zōnex. Ekkarines eišalē murur eiwōra apha. Phak niyeimuphasturayat wō sitē raumax kal eizinylit.

“Itytatheya pekhi, kurŋysōtu pō alšu kurpatitu!” eiharatat ka calam wezkanne enaxitat.

“Khalei ityŋitat?” ekkarini eituš.

“Tapahazzatu ōŋŋus razur kanēa!” eipharek pekhi nērim.

“Wāteyah, kāleas Ylkentiri nenkōrnusa!” ŋiri eitum, namtumur nethitalin. “Thaneniraxteya!”

Ka pekhi phak cen ruš-axtat ikethantu niyera.

Khiŋ xenatera cak mauz rinu eicattu ka cak thuxat eišak-ka, ka eyētte. Ka eyucal ka eihiri eimuphastur niyitenan, ōl, ylek, thik kecapēni, ōl ŋywa ayōnaknu. Ekkarines eihiri elalašē ka phaleim niyeihutenta nixiyexawa.

“Cikkuthir-heim ninnuma,” ekkarinara neitum, utun kulkannu munkinein. “Eachōpetapi mulalikma ei-Urturum, eileŋer paka ecapurtut lōphasa enkanu. Ikema hōšanu.”

“Nakōl,” eitum, “almer kurneilumu. Cim Anithitre tušan ōma hinkeŋkeŋurex.”

“Niyera pazyzek,” ekkarini šimtur eitumta. “Lei nikhȳrō patumeha sycim pa eihirnuŋam Cikkuthir. Ŋōsele nameihir-nē.”

Ka niyera ŋiri iketnanet ka iyekhatta.

Yaunei zōn nihurax, sikhik pekhi phak eitentu tumin waškan sikenne. Ekkarines hellannu Ylkentiri eizeit ka namtumur inithithalē, ninkilkelanu phak khumkir nō. Tautra ŋus itat.

Ruŋkiŋ ekkarini niparaweini šarkwalem. Ŋywanu tachattē nannōl ka ŋiri ōl ŋywa ayōnaknu nantē.

“Hakurtumezze kua,” hau eitum. “Mušapakkur izullukeix cikureik yim canetra. Xenōm yihurap hȳ eniaŋal naeyi ha, reika ipaneter.”

“Ha taur, ōkurmethax,” ekkarini eitum. “Le-ō namšacap ere šarmatōŋa.”

“Ha taurna,” Itirȳli eitum nayōa. “Patumtōnu kōlšu?” eituš.

“Thynōri,” eyintuš ekkarini ka mukaur eithalu. Nakōl, Itirȳli eimet wa eleltananu phaleim ceithachin.

English translation

A monk lived in solitude in a temple on a slope of a mountain. He was a young monk, and it was a small temple, and the mountain was sharp and high.

The monk tended the temple in peace, until the day, when two spirits passed [the temple] and watched him doing his work. They were the Spirit of the Volcano and the Spirit of the Itir river.

The Volcano Spirit said: “Let’s make a wager. The one, who will drive that man away from the temple, will keep [that place] as home, as it would be a good place to reside.”

The Itir river Spirit was reluctant, but later he agreed: “Very well. So be it,” he said.

There in his little pond the monk gathered his food for a day, then he cooked it and prepared for the evening prayer. The sky was in the colour of hot lava. The monk has heard a noise, mighty and low.

There were four [men] in the courtyard, black smoke surrounded them and they appeared dead.

“Come out, man! We shall eat you or take your soul!” they shouted and fire came out of their mouths.

“And what if I don’t come out?” asked the monk.

“We will come back every night until you do!” screamed the man in the front.

“[in Kērsalur] Flee, for it is the temple of the Violet God!” the monk said and cast a spell on them. “Reveal yourself!”

The next day clouds covered the mountain top and they were dark full louds, and it started raining. And there was lightning, when a noble man appeared in the courtyard, dressed in blue, violet and green, with glistening blue eyes. The monk greeted the noble man and walked beside him into the temple, [where] they could be out of the rain in it.

“I am the son of the House Cikkuthir,” he told the monk, as he was wringing out his garment. “I was travelling to the ciry of Urturum with my guards, when thick volcanic fumes covered us, making them mad. I was the only one who escaped.”

“Therefore,” he said, “let us go to the city together. There you can ask my family for a reward.”

“We must leave right away,” said the monk with a smile, “if you tell me, who you trully are, for you are certainly not a noble man of Cikkutir. You do not talk in the manner of the nobility.”

And right away the man has disappeared as it has ceased raining.

The sky was clear in the evening, when the four men appeared once again, saying the same words. The monk put out a sigil of the Violet God and cast a spell on them, turning them into four stone statues. And then the night came.

At dawn the monk was half-woken by a whispering voice. He opened his eyes for a moment and saw a young man with glistening blue eyes.

“I wish to say sorry,” said the voice. “It was a shameful wager. I shall leave this place forever. But I lived in this waterfall and river for so long, it would hurt to leave.”

“Then stay here,” said the monk, “but play no more of this foolishness.”

“Of course,” said the Itir river Spirit behind him. “Can you tell me you name?” asked he.

“Thynori,” answered the monk and he returned to his dreams. And so, the Itir river Spirit stayed, nourishing the temple with his fresh water.