Part III · I. Igor's Escape

The sea spurted at midnight; the waterspouts pass like mists. God manifests the road to Prince Igor from the Polovsk land to the Russian land, to his fathers' golden throne.

The twilight dimmed at even-time. Igor sleeps, Igor wakes, Igor in his mind measures the plains from the mighty Don to the little Donets.

[There is] clamour at midnight; Ovlur whistled beyond the stream, summons the prince; Prince Igor could not understand.

[Ovlur] called out loud; the earth throbbed; the grass rustled. The Polovsk tents began to stir. Igor the Prince raced like an ermine to the brushwood, like a white duck to the water, cast himself on his swift horse and leapt from it like a swift-footed wolf and fled to the meadow of the Donets, and flew like a hawk in the mists, slaying geese and swans for breakfast, dinner and supper.

When Igor flew like a hawk, then Vlur fled like a wolf, shaking off himself the cold dew. For they had over-ridden their swift steeds.