Ilya Muromets and Nightingale the Robber

Yes, at the same river near Currant,
The Nightingale the Robber sits in a raw oak,
Sitting Nightingale the robber, Odikhmantiev's son;
And then the Nightingale whistles like a nightingale,

He screams the villain-robber like an animal
And from that whether from a nightingale whistle,
And from that whether from the shout of the animal,
Then all the grass-ants are devoured,

All azure flowers fall asleep,
Dark woods all bow to the ground,
And that there are people, then all are dead.
There are five hundred miles along the straight path,
Ai thousand roundabouts.