«There is no one here, it is empty. After a while she shouted again, then again and again, but Black Snake is not here. Zukhra was discouraged. Dead silence. There was a black fog over the lake. Accidentally she watched her steps and saw his head on the ground. She screamed in a terrible voice and wept bitter tears, cuddling the head. Zukhra realised how everything had happened. She realised how her mother had betrayed her then. Zukhra stood up, found the body of Black Snake and together with her children she dug a pit. They buried a padishah of jinns and were flooding in tears. Then Zukhra, crying and moaning, took one of her children and dropped him right in the sky.
– Go my dear, turn into a nightingale and calm people with your lovely song.
Then her child turned into a nightingale and went away. Zukhra took a second of them:
– You, the apple of my eye, be a swallow, let the people admire your agility.
As the child was turned into a swallow, he flew away. She took her third child and was looking at him, weeping.
– And you, my darling, turn into a wise starling, who knows all languages of the world.
And the starling went away. Then Zukhra roused herself once, then twice and became a grey dove.
This is how nightingales, swallows, starlings and gray-winged doves might have appeared in the world.»
A fragment from a tale «Zukhra» from a storybook «Tatar folk tales», Tatar book publisher, Kazan, 1986.