Baykal, a wrestler, lived on Earth.
A father of many from his birth.
He had three hundred sons, it's said, and one dear daughter, proud instead.
With all his soul, he loved her so.
Gave rubies, gold, a radiant glow.
But from his home, he'd not let her roam.
Baykal was strict, she could not comb.
Oh. Baykal was strict, she could not comb.
Suitors would come with gifts they'd buy.
Pearls, poems beneath the sky.
They'd call her bride to wed and be, but all refused by her father's decree.
Many long days then passed away, when Yenisei arrived one day.
For Baykal's daughter, he proposed a bride price, earned in battles, a worthy sacrifice.
Oh.
Earned in battles, a worthy sacrifice.
A fire ignited between two hearts, but firm the father played his part.
And one early morn before the sun, the lover stole Angara, his beloved one.