Part I · I. Proem

Were it not seemly to us, brothers, to begin in ancient diction the tales of the toils of the army of Igor, Igor Svyatoslavic?

[Or] to begin this song in accordance with the ballads of this time, and not like the invention of Boyan?

For the wise Boyan when he wished to make a song for any man, in his thought used to fly in the trees, [race] like a grey wolf on earth, [soar] like a dusky eagle beneath the clouds. He used to recall the words and the dissensions of the early times.

Then he released falcons on a flock of swans; whichever [falcon] first arrived, its swan sang a song, — to the elder Yaroslav, to Mstislav the Brave who slew Redelya in front of the Kasog hosts, [or] to Roman Svyatoslavic the Handsome.

Yet, Boyan, my brothers, did not let loose ten falcons on a flock of swans, but laid his own wizard fingers on the living strings, which then themselves throbbed out praise for the princes.