New NaqqaliSepahbod of Iran · of Pahlevan descent
Bahram Chubinبهرام چوبینه
bah-RAHM choo-BEENalso Bahram
The swarthy Iranian sepahbod of Pahlevan descent who wins great victories and later wars against Khosrow.
- His story
- From E5.5, Hormizd Calls for Bahram Chubin, to E6.38, The Khan’s Vengeance for Bahram
- Named
- 377 times, in 61 dastans
- Parents
- Goshnasp
- Plates
- Vol III: VII
His story, in the poem’s own sections
10 sections, with the summary from the Notes. Open any one to read it in full here; tap a couplet number to cite it or suggest a better one.
E5.6
Bahram Chubin Takes Command
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Bahram reaches court, argues against buying peace, and is given command. He enrolls twelve thousand armored men, all aged forty, defends both choices from the poem’s own history, and receives from the Shah’s hand the dragon banner of Rostam.
100 couplets · Bahram Chubin named 9 times · in the full poem
He called no warriors from his own command,But hurried out from Barda through the land.
That world-aspiring horseman reached the throne,And to the Shah his coming was made known.
When he beheld the king of kings, he bent;The old campaigner hailed his star’s ascent.
The Shah at first sight favored him and knewThe signs Mehran Setad had named were true.
He smiled; his royal countenance grew bright,Then welcomed him and lodged him with delight.
When night cast off its veil of musky shade,The sun shone forth, its golden face displayed.
The frontier lord came proudly through the gate,And all the chiefs made way to mark his state.
The Shah then summoned him and bade him sitAmong the nobles, honored, grave, and fit.
He told how Iran stood in danger’s hour,And what Mehran had said of Saveh’s power.
He asked, “Shall I make peace or choose to fight,And send my troops against King Saveh’s might?”
The warrior answered, “Peace must not be made,When he himself has come with battle’s blade.
If we sue peace while he desires the fray,We show defeat before the whole array.
The foe grows bold when he beholds you weak;A feast ill suits the hour when war should speak.”
Hormizd replied, “What course is left to try?Shall I delay, or march where banners fly?”
He answered, “When the foe acts without right,The omen favors those compelled to fight.
The noble counselor said long ago:‘No match for justice is an unjust foe.’
Then seek the fight against this harmful king;For fire and water share no common spring.
If matters turn against us in the fight,The ancient sky may yet deny our might.
But if you yield your strength without a blow,And give up all you have before the foe,
Will holy God not judge you for that shame?Will heroes spare your honor and your name?
When ten thousand Iranian men lie dead,Will you turn back and waste the blood they shed?
What will the spiteful say of you that day,If you turn back from foes and run away?
When I rain arrows down on Saveh’s train,And make my bow a spring-cloud on the plain,
When iron gorzes, swords, and spears are cast,And battle’s ranks surge roaring through the blast,
If still no glimpse of triumph can be found,And fortune leaves our hearts in darkness bound,
Then we shall yield him cities from our hand,And all we own, as fortunes then demand.
But let us struggle till the sky makes plainWhether it brings us victory or pain.”
The Shah smiled; all the court grew bright at this,And veterans left the presence full of bliss.
They spoke with Bahram, saying, “From this hour,Be modest when you speak before such power.
King Saveh’s troops so densely fill the way,Even ants and gnats would find no path by day.
Who, after such bold words, will dare to standBefore the king and take the troops in hand?”
He answered, “Warriors of illustrious name,By our great Shah’s leave, I will claim that fame.”
Informants brought his answer to the throne,And told the Shah what Bahram had made known.
The king of kings rejoiced when this was heard,And fear of Saveh’s force no longer stirred.
He made Bahram the captain of the fight,And raised his valiant head to royal height.
All warriors who sought glory in the fieldAcclaimed him captain under royal shield.
He came before the king, his girdle tied,Prepared for war, yet steady in his stride.
He said, “By your leave, I shall call the roll,And read the fighting strength of every soul,
To learn who seeks renown and who is slack,Who stands in war and who will turn his back.”
The Shah replied, “You are the leader here;The good and ill of war are yours to steer.”
The chief went to the royal muster-ground,And ordered all the troops to gather round.
He chose among them those of highest name,The crown of chiefs, the hardened men of fame.
He wrote twelve thousand on the fighting roll,Mail-clad, with bargostvan, of tested soul.
All those enrolled were forty years of age;He struck off youth and elder from the page.
Bahram Chubin held supreme command,Renowned in war, exacting, firm of hand.
He named Yalan-sina, fierce in will,To lead the foremost ranks with war’s hard skill.
On battle-days he was to ride ahead,Wheel round his steed, and rouse the troops he led.
He was to cry his lineage through the field,And rouse the warriors till their doubts would yield.
He charged Izad Gashasp, who drew no rein,To guard the camp-stores and the baggage train;
Then Mardanshah, his brother, held the left,Bereft of fear, and in the saddle deft;
While rightward, warlike kinsmen formed their row,Prepared to turn their lances on the foe.
Kanda Gashasp, who riding would not failTo seize the lion by its furious tail,
He placed at the rear to guard the line,A man whose strength in danger still would shine.
Then to the troops the Pahlevan declared:“O ardent chiefs, be disciplined, prepared.
If you would have God’s help against the weightOf this dark work that gathers round our fate,
Then do no harm, inflict no loss or ill,Nor arm yourselves for wrong or cruel will.
When through the night the karnay’s call is heard,Leap up at once, and spur without a word.
Then ride together, all with urgent speed,And raise a tumult, spurring every steed.
With rested horse and man, with strength renewed,Let no dread thought of battle-day intrude.”
When word of all Bahram had planned and wroughtHad reached the king, he gloried in the thought.
He praised the plan and deeds that Bahram showed,And from his treasury the payments flowed.
He gave Bahram the arms from royal stores,And opened every armory’s guarded doors.
Within the city he assembled thenThe finest battle-steeds for chosen men.
He told the captain, “Name, without a pause,Whatever serves the war and royal cause.
You know all kinds of warfare by your art,And Saveh’s stores of arms in every part.
You know what wealth, what soldiers, and what armsThat famous man can bring in war’s alarms.
His Turks will make earth quake upon the dayOf battle, when their banners fill the way.
Yet from the troops you chose a mounted forceOf just twelve thousand, armored man and horse.
I do not know how such a count can standAgainst the force that darkens all the land.
And you chose men of forty years insteadOf youthful swordsmen eager to be led.”
The chief replied, “O courteous Shah, attend;You know the words that ancient kings commend.
When Fortune lends her favor to your side,A little force may conquer far and wide.
By this same token I shall prove my view,If now the Shah will hear my counsel through.
When Kay Kavus in Hamavaran lay,In bonds with countless chiefs shut from the day,
Then Rostam chose twelve thousand horsemen bold,And freed the Shah and peers from prison’s hold.
Again, great Gudarz, Keshvad’s noble son,The head of men whose glory had been won,
Chose twelve thousand armored men to ride,And took revenge for Siavash when he died.
Again, brave Esfandiyar, fierce and strong,Led twelve thousand against Arjasp’s proud throng.
By stratagem he made the dust ariseFrom fort and army underneath the skies.
When any force exceeds this counted might,It grows too large for dash and ordered fight.
The chief who leads too vast a fighting bandWill lose his order as the lines expand.
As for your saying men of forty yearsAre less eager than youths with flashing spears,
At forty, men have learned from trials past;Their courage, tested, holds them firm and fast.
He still remembers bread and salt, the sealOf loyalty that binds the true to steel.
He fears the voice of blame, the loss of name,And stands his ground lest flight should bring him shame.
Nor do his wife and child and household bindA veteran’s spirit or distract his mind.
A youth is fooled by outward show and flame;Where patience should be, rashness stakes its claim.
He has no wife or child, no fields to tend;He cannot weigh the worth of what men spend.
Since wisdom rests on trials men have passed,The young man lacks the judgment years amassed.
If he should conquer in some single fight,He laughs, and lingers in his own delight.
But if another chances to prevail,His foes will see his back and watch him fail.”
The king grew fresh as roses in the spring,And said, “Put on your jowshan; serve your king.
Depart the palace to the riding-ground;Let horse and weapon there with you be found.”
His helm and jowshan came at his command;He mounted, taking up his coiled kamand.
The Shah and all his wazirs then went out,With arrows, clubs, and polo-balls about.
Bahram came, jowshan-clad, in Roman helm;The Shah then blessed the guardian of the realm.
He kissed the earth before the royal seat,His homage to the king of kings complete.
Then came the violet dragon-banner bright,The flag of Rostam, borne in ancient fight.
The Shah bestowed it: “Take it from my hand;A second Rostam rises in the land.”
Bahram then blessed the Shah and took his stand,The glorious banner under his command.
E5.7
Bahram Chubin Rides against Saveh
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Bahram asks for a recorder of deeds and marches from Tisfoon. He takes a sheep’s head from a seller’s basket as an omen of Saveh’s beheading. The Shah, warned he will one day turn, tries to recall him and is refused. A horseman is executed for stealing straw.
109 couplets · Bahram Chubin named 14 times · in the full poem
When dawn appeared above the mountain height,And like a shield the sun came into sight,
The chief approached the palace of the king,And bowed before the throne, low worshipping.
He said, “I was a man of no great claim,Yet through your farr have won an honored name.
One favor I request from throne and crown:Send me a trusted man of sound renown.
Let him record each warrior in the fight,Who strikes a foeman down before his sight,
And let their names throughout the world be known,Their fame through his account more widely sown.”
The Shah replied, “Let wise Nastooh attend,To mark what deeds your warriors shall commend.”
He bade him go with Bahram to the field,To write each triumph on the battle-shield.
From Tisfoon all the army marched that day,With Bahram Chubin leading on the way.
A prudent, brave, and dauntless force he led;He watched them like a lion, keen and dread.
When he had gone, the monarch turned aside,And spoke in private with the priest beside.
He said, “On battle’s day this man will glowWith joy; what do you think? I wish to know.”
The Mobad answered, “May your life be long;May you live on, forever hale and strong.
With such a frame and speech, he must attainSuccess, and make a barren world bear grain.
Yet still I fear that he will rise one dayAgainst the lord whose favor paved his way.
How boldly he addressed you to your face,A lion speaking in your royal place.”
Hormizd replied, “Do not let doubt obscureYour judgment, mixing poison with the cure.
If he defeats King Saveh in the fight,The crown and throne would be his proper right.
May he remain as now, so full of grace;Such gifts would suit him in a sovereign’s place.”
The Mobad’s face grew pale; he bit his lip;The king retained that thought within his grip.
After a while he chose a courtier near,A confidant whose words rang true and clear.
He said, “Pursue the Pahlevan today,And tell me all you witness on the way.”
The agent followed swiftly, known to none,A reader of omens under moon and sun.
He often read the omens for the crown,And watched the road for signs that fate laid down.
As Bahram rode out from Tisfoon’s domain,He led his chosen force across the plain.
A seller with a basket came ahead,With sheep heads on its cloth for sale outspread.
A clean cloth lay across the basket’s rim;The seller bore it on in front of him.
The chieftain spurred his horse and lowered his spear,Then raised a sheep’s head high for all those near.
He bore it high before the army’s view,Then cast it down, convinced the sign was true.
He said, “Thus shall I sever Saveh’s head,And cast it where his army’s lines are spread.
So shall I shatter all his gathered pride,And scatter Saveh’s troops on every side.”
The Shah’s emissary read the omen too:“This favorite of fortune will break through.
When he has brought his warlike task to an end,Against the Shah himself his will shall bend.”
He told the Shah, who sank in grief and pain;His verdant leaf grew withered in that strain.
He called a young courtier and sent him fast,To reach the Pahlevan before night passed.
“Go tell the captain of the ranks from me:Remain in camp tonight by my decree.
At dawn turn back and come before me here;I need to speak with you, with no one near.
I shall dismiss all strangers from my sight;New counsel has occurred to me tonight.”
The messenger reached Bahram and conveyedThe royal message from a Shah dismayed.
Bahram replied, “Men do not, wise Shah, callAn army back once marching, horse and all.
To turn us back would be an evil sign,And bring rejoicing to the foeman’s line.
I will return when victory crowns the way;Your realm and diadem will shine that day.”
The messenger returned before the king,And word for word reported everything.
The Shah accepted what the envoy said;The order to return was dropped instead.
At dawn the captain led the troops to ride,And called on God to be their shield and guide.
Toward Rey he led his troops with firm command;No soldier dared do damage to the land.
A woman bore a sack of straw for sale,And hurried through the troops along the trail.
A horseman bought the sack she brought that day,Then rode off with the straw and did not pay.
He rode away. She came in grief and shame,And stood before Bahram to state her claim:
“I brought a sack of straw that should be sold;A horseman took the sack, but paid no gold.
He wore an iron helmet on his head;He took my goods and left,” the woman said.
They searched and found the culprit in the band,And brought him to the chief at his command.
Brave Bahram Chubin met him with a stare:“You thought your theft too small to warrant care?”
Before the chief’s pavilion he was led;They crushed his hands and feet and smashed his head.
A khanjar cleft his body clean in two;Through every unjust heart a shudder flew.
Then from the chief’s pavilion came a cry,To warn the noble captains standing by:
“O noble chiefs, attend the law I give:Who steals a straw shall not be left to live.
No man shall plead for him or bar his doom;My khanjar at his waist shall seal his tomb.
Let every man, with honest payment, buyThe goods he needs to keep himself supplied.”
Bahram resumed his march with ordered train,And moved toward Damaghan across the plain.
The Shah feared Saveh’s elephants and might;And fear of Bahram troubled him by night.
One moonrise night he spoke to Barzin’s son,Kharrad, and said, “Prepare; this must be done.
Go to our enemy with watchful care;Do not sleep; ride as swift as moving air.
Mark all his troops, their number and degree,Their strength, their chiefs, and what their worth may be.
Learn who commands and who the champions are,What men among them shine in fame afar.”
He ordered that a letter of adviceBe written, with rich presents of great price.
He said, “Proceed to Herat; if troops rise,Know Bahram leads the force before your eyes.
Approach him first and speak as I have told;Convey my blessings to that captain bold.
Then tell him, ‘I shall go and lay the bait;Keep hidden who you are, and lie in wait.
If Saveh hears your fame and name declared,His mind will grow suspicious and prepared.
And I will draw him toward your net with art,With fair, extended parley on my part.’”
Kharrad, son of Barzin, made ready then,And left as ordered by the king of men.
He met with Bahram Chubin on the way,And gave the words the Shah bade him relay.
Then onward to King Saveh’s camp he went,Where troops, beasts, wealth, and elephants were pent.
He gained an audience and humbly bowed,And spoke with Saveh, far from all the crowd.
He used each argument and all his artTo draw that army toward Herat’s heart.
When Saveh came and camped beside the stream,The outposts moved beneath the evening gleam.
They marked Bahram Chubin, firm in command,With troops drawn up upon the desert sand.
They hastened back and told King Saveh straight,“A force has reached the plain by Herat’s gate.
That army comes with pomp and proud display;Its forces now have reached us on their way.”
King Saveh, troubled, wondered what to do,Then summoned Hormizd’s envoy into view.
He railed, “You Ahriman of fraud and lies,Did you not fear the doom before your eyes?
You came from that vile Shah to set a snare,And draw me where Iranian troops prepare.
You brought an army here to face my might,And pitched their tents at Herat for the fight.”
Kharrad, son of Barzin, answered then:“The force before you is a few stray men.
Take not its coming as an evil sign;Some frontier lord proceeds by his design.
Perhaps a chief seeks shelter and draws near,Or merchants with their escort now appear.
Who would confront you, lord of so much might,Though mountains turned to seas before the fight?
I will send one to learn their chief’s intent,And why their forces to this place were sent.”
His words pleased Saveh, who at once replied,“In truth, this course is prudent and well tried.
We shall dispatch a scout to learn their name,And whether friend or foe directs their aim.”
Kharrad withdrew into his tent that night,As darkness veiled the mountain peaks from sight.
He made his preparations for the flight,To flee the coming wrath before the light.
At midnight Saveh sent Parmudeh out,His valiant son, to act as prince and scout;
That thoughtful youth rode swiftly on his way,And reached the place where Iran’s army lay.
He sent a Pahlevan ahead to cry:“Who are these warriors camped beneath the sky?
Who are your chiefs? What leader do you claim?Which champion among you bears great fame?
Parmudeh, Saveh’s prince and darling, seeksThe army’s chief, with whom he freely speaks.”
A warrior from Bahram’s army heard,And brought the captain every spoken word.
The captain left the camp-enclosure then;His banner rose above the gathered men.
Parmudeh saw him come, and spurred his horse,And rode in haste along the open course.
He asked, “Why halt? From where have you now fled?Estranged from Pars, you left; or so men said.”
Bahram replied, “God keep such thought away;No vengeance on the Shah directs my way.
From Baghdad I have come at his command,To fight with all the warriors in my band.
When word of Saveh’s army reached the throne,The Shah gave orders I shall now make known:
‘With arrows, gorzes, swords, and spears, attack;Go forth against their force and drive them back.’”
Parmudeh then rode back and told his sire;Then Saveh sought the envoy in his ire.
They told him, “Kharrad fled.” The king replied,“How did that villain find a path outside?
With countless troops around us in the night,How could our watchmen let him slip from sight?”
E5.11
Bahram Chubin Slays King Saveh
🏇💪🌃😴😨👑👥🧠🪖🛡️🚫🏃⛰️👤😟🙏👑🪄🌪️🔥⚔️🪖🏃🏇💪📣⚔️👑🐘🏹🏹🐘🩸🐘↩️👥💀👑🐎🏃🏇💪🏹🎯👑🩸⬇️🗡️💀👥😭🏆52 emoji · the whole poem in emoji →
Bahram dreams of defeat, prays, and has his archers shoot the elephants’ trunks; the beasts turn and trample the Turks. He overtakes Saveh, shoots him through the spine, beheads him, and puts to death the warlock who confesses to sending the dream.
148 couplets · Bahram Chubin named 23 times · in the full poem
Alone within his tent, he sent to callIran’s great sepahbods for counsel, all.
Within his tent he took advice for fight,Until both armies slept beneath the night.
The world lay still for any man to take,Yet Bahram’s warlike thoughts remained awake.
While sleeping in his tent, that lion sawThe Turks advance with battle’s iron law.
His troops were routed; barred from flight or aid,He begged for life, on foot, alone, afraid.
He woke in grief, his noble head oppressed,And passed the dark with pain within his breast.
He told no man the terror of his dream;His heart held sorrow like a hidden stream.
Just then came Kharrad, Barzin’s wary heir,From Turkish camp with words he would declare.
He said, “What confidence is this you show?Behold the snare of Ahriman below.
Do not cast Iran’s brave lives to fate unkind;Treat these great nobles with a prudent mind.
For valor’s sake, have pity on your life;No man has faced the like of such a strife.”
Bahram replied, “In your Gilan, we know,Men traffic fish through summer’s heat and snow;
Your folk know only reeds and waters damp,Unfit to counsel champions in their camp!
You are no man for spear or gorz in war,Nor bow or shaft when battle’s thunders roar.
When sun climbs those dark mountains into sight,I shall show how kings and warriors fight.”
When Sol from Leo rose and whitened air,The karnay sounded through the morning glare.
The battle-cry went up; earth shook belowThe horses’ hoofs as armies faced the foe.
Bahram arrayed his ranks, then mounted high,And grasped a war-worn gorz beneath the sky.
He placed three thousand veterans on the right,All mail-clad warriors of tested might.
An equal force he sent upon the left,Vengeful horsemen, bold and battle-deft.
Izad Gashasp, who rode through rivers, ledThe right, where many spears were lifted red.
Kanda Gashasp, who held the leftward line,Served Azargashasp’s holy fire and shrine.
Yalan-sina supported both with might,A firm reserve prepared to join the fight.
Hamdan Gashasp held firm the center’s ground;His horseshoes fired the reeds with every bound.
With each there stood three thousand, jowshans dressed,Stone-hearted Pahlevans who met each test.
Then proclamation rang across the field:“O golden-crowned chiefs, stand firm; do not yield.
Who flees the fight, though lion should appear,Or leopard block his path and rouse his fear,
By God, I shall behead him, burn his frame,And leave his lifeless body to the flame.”
Two paths of flight lay open in the rear;Both roads he blocked with earthen ramparts sheer:
Ten rash in height he raised them, steep and tight,To bar his own Iranians from all flight.
The royal scribe drew near, aghast and pale:“This madness makes our very courage fail!
Among these troops we are one white hair shownUpon a sable ox, exposed, alone.
No soil, no hill, no stream is seen at all;Turanian swordsmen darken field and wall.”
Bahram cried, furious, “Coward at heart,Your ink and paper are your proper art.
Who bade you count the foemen’s force today,Or measure what the sword will sweep away?”
The scribe sought Kharrad, saying, “In his pride,Bahram has none but Div to be his guide.”
The scribes then sought some path by which to flee,So they need not behold the doom to be.
They feared both Bahram and the king of kings,And bit their lips at what the battle brings.
A steep height rose beside the battlefield;They climbed in fear, to see what it revealed.
“We must observe their ranks,” they said in dread,And watched the helm that crowned Bahram’s proud head.
Then Bahram, when his ranks were set in place,Withdrew from camp and fell upon his face.
Before his God, he cried aloud in dust,“O righteous Judge, whose every doom is just,
If this my conflict is unjust to You,And Saveh’s cause is truer in Your view,
Then calm my heart within this battle’s roar,And grant him triumph over us in war.
But if I toil and strive at Your command,And risk my head in battle as I stand,
Make me and all my troops rejoice in peace;Let warfare’s torment through the whole world cease.”
Still praying loudly, he arose foursquare,His ox-head gorz raised high in morning air.
King Saveh cried, “Begin your spells and art,To cloud Iranian eyes and quell each heart.
Let no disaster fall upon our own;Let all their courage fail, their ranks be thrown.”
The sorcerers began their spells in air,And hurled wild fire through the murky glare.
A wind arose; a black cloud filled the sky,And rained its arrows on the troops nearby.
Bahram exclaimed, “Chiefs, nobles, men of war,Do not heed spells or fear their empty roar.
Come on in anger. This is nothing trueBut trick and sorcery brought forth for you.
The men who use such means deserve our tears;Stand firm in arms and cast aside your fears.”
The Iranians shouted, heated for the fight,While Saveh watched the field from left to right.
He saw the foe recoil not from his art,But press on harder with courageous heart.
Then Saveh led his troops against their flank,Like wolves on lambs, and shattered rank on rank.
He broke the left and charged against the coreOf Bahram’s army with a mighty roar.
When Bahram saw his soldiers flee the foe,He spurred his steed to strike three warriors low.
He hurled them from their saddles to the ground,Then cried aloud to all the troops around:
“This is the way to fight, this is the mode;Why bend in shame beneath the battle’s load?
No shame before Yazdan, who rules the earth,The chiefs, and nobles of illustrious birth?”
Then like a hungry lion in his might,He wheeled against the enemy’s strong right.
He broke the mighty force before his eyes;Its leader’s banner vanished from the skies.
Then to his army’s center he withdrew,Where stood his generals with their ranks in view.
He said, “A curse upon this stubborn strife;Prolonged contention robs us of our life!
Look out and find in which direction liesA path of safe retreat before our eyes.”
They searched for some escape, but none lay clear;No road would let them leave the fighting here.
Then Bahram said, “An iron wall is reared;The brave will breach the wall the craven feared.
Whoever breaks that wall and wins a wayMay carry life to Iran from this fray.
Set all your hearts on battle; overheadRaise shields, and wield your khanjars as you tread.
If sleepless Fortune pays us for our pains,Our toil shall bring us thrones and sovereign reigns.
Let none despair of God, lest you beholdYour white day blackened and your courage cold.”
King Saveh cried, “Bring elephants ahead,And make the field for foes a road of dread.
Attack in force; drive hard against the foe,And crush their ranks beneath each heavy blow.”
Bahram from far beheld the beasts appear,And grief and anger struck his heart with fear.
He drew his sword and called, “Now string your bows,Your bows of Chakh, to meet these mighty foes.
Put helmets on. By life and royal headOf our great Shah, whose fame is widely spread,
Let every man with bow and shaft in handDraw tight and hold his station where we stand.
Let each man lodge three shafts with deadly blowsWithin a trunk, then turn upon the foes.
Then out with gorzes; press into the fight,And slay your foes beneath victorious light.”
The chieftain strung his bow and set his helm;The steel casque flashed on him who kept the realm.
He made his bow a spring-cloud full of rain,And showered arrows thick across the plain.
The soldiers followed; pointed shafts took flight,And feathered arrows dimmed the stars from sight.
They pierced the beasts’ trunks, and the stricken groundBecame a pool of blood, with slain around.
The elephants, in anguish, turned and fled,And trampled down their own troops as they sped.
The troops of Iran followed close behind;The earth became a Nile no bank confined.
Confusion ruled, and many warriors died;Ill fortune crushed the Turkish army’s pride.
Behind the stricken troops there lay a place,Pleasant, adorned for Saveh’s royal grace.
There, on a golden throne, fierce Saveh stayed,And watched his broken army flee dismayed.
He saw his iron mountain flee in gloom,Heads full of dust, souls marching into doom.
Behind them the stampeding beasts came on,And trampled troops until their hope was gone.
He wept. Why should his army flee the plain?Then mounted his bay Arab in deep pain.
He fled in fear. Bahram pursued his flight,Like a wild elephant in maddened might.
A kamand on his arm, his bow in hand,He shouted to his troops across the land:
“Ill fate has marked them; let your arrows rain!Ride on with swords, and reap them down like grain.
Acquit yourselves as Pahlevans in fight;Let none among you turn his back in flight.”
He reached the hill where Saveh held his state,Where he had sat enthroned before this fate.
He saw him fleeing on his Arab steedAcross the desert at a headlong speed.
He chose a shaft whose point shone clear and keen,Four eagle feathers on its length were seen.
He took his Chakh bow in his practiced hand,And set his thumb against the deer-hide band.
He straightened his left arm and bent his right;The bowstring thundered as the shaft took flight.
It pierced King Saveh’s spine; he toppled down,Headlong to dust, with blood beneath his crown.
The crowned king, from his army swept away,Left bare his golden throne at break of day.
Such deeds the turning sky performs below,Showing no love, nor hate for friend or foe.
Fear most when seated on the loftiest throne;Disaster comes when safety seems your own.
The brave Bahram came on and dragged the deadFace-down through dust, then severed Saveh’s head.
None of the gathered men came to his aid;No one approached him where the king was laid.
When Turks beheld his corpse beside the road,Their frantic wailing shook the world’s abode.
Then Saveh’s son said, “Fate has willed it so;Bahram’s bright fortune lays our army low.”
Multitudes died in straits and broken ways;The elephants crushed men in a bloody maze.
Not one in ten escaped the routed side;Some crushed, some headless, all their glory died.
When nine long spans of that grim day were done,No living foe remained beneath the sun,
Save captives bound and pierced in soul and frame,By grief and shafts, stripped of their former fame.
The road was strewn with armor, helms, and bows,With blades from Hind and bodies of their foes.
Earth was a sea of blood where corpses lay,And riderless steeds wandered far away.
Bahram then searched the slaughtered field with dread,To learn which men of Iran now lay dead.
He said to Kharrad, “Give your aid, and learnWhich of our men will nevermore return.”
Kharrad went through the tents and searched the ground;One pious warrior nowhere could be found.
A chieftain named Bahram, a fearless one,A noble prince in valor matched by none,
Was of Siavash’s line, a warrior knownThroughout Iran for valor of his own.
Half-mad with grief, Kharrad went forth to traceThe warrior’s path through death’s disfigured place.
He moved the slain and wounded forms aside,Yet found no sign of him in battle’s tide.
The army’s captain grieved aloud and cried,“Alas, wise warrior, where do you abide?”
But then the man appeared; his welcome sightUnlocked the captain’s heart to fresh delight.
He brought a ruddy, cat-eyed Turk in tow,Whose angry heart betrayed a sullen glow.
Bahram cried, seeing him, “May dust not beYour bride; may victory keep your spirit free.”
Then to that foul Turk, “Hell-visaged man,Banned from Paradise, declare your clan.
What is your name and birth? Speak what you are;Your mother shall have cause to mourn afar.”
He said, “I am a warlock; I do not dealIn manly arms or strength of sharpened steel.
I aid the sepahbods when troubles grow;My dreams disturb the calmest hearts I know.
I gave you that ill dream to harm your head;I should have sought more potent means instead.
My sorcery has failed; ill fortune tossedMy labor to the wind, and all is lost.
Grant quarter, and you gain in me a friend,Accomplished in all arts from end to end.”
Bahram considered, troubled at the thought:“This man might help us when a war is fought.”
Then said, “What profit had King Saveh gainedFrom this dark dealer, though his magic reigned?
All good descends from God on favored men.”He ordered that they slay the warlock then.
They killed the man as Bahram had decreed;His lifeless form could do no further deed.
Bahram stood up and said, “O Judge of all,From You come triumph, glory, rise, and fall.
High place and diadems beneath the sky,Distress and triumph come from You on high.
Blest is the man who walks Your righteous way!”The chief scribe came with praise for him that day.
He said, “Fereydoon never saw your peer,Nor Bahram, nor Anooshirvan, far or near.
O mighty Pahlevan, in you combineA lion’s courage, counsel, and design.
May no calamity draw near your breath;Through you Iran’s towns live secure from death.
The Pahlevans all serve you, and your shieldKeeps every man from harm upon the field.
A chieftain born of chieftains, honored, great,Blessed is your mother for her happy fate.
Your birth is blessed, and blessed the steps you take;Farr, wisdom, fortune follow in your wake.”
Then all the Shah’s great Pahlevans arose;The gathered nobles went to their repose.
E5.13
Bahram Chubin Overcomes Parmudeh
👦👑🏰⛓️💰🌊🪖🏇💪🔎⛰️👦⚔️🌃🎶🍷🏕️🐎⚔️🏹🩸👥💀👦🏃🏰🔒👑🪖⛺30 emoji · the whole poem in emoji →
Parmudeh crosses the Jihun to avenge Saveh. Warned against Wednesdays, Bahram spends one feasting in a garden and is surrounded; he breaks out, then storms the Turkish camp by night. Parmudeh flees to Avaza, and Bahram rings the fortress.
76 couplets · Bahram Chubin named 15 times · in the full poem
When news came Bahram sought him as a foe,Parmudeh fled to ward the coming blow;
Within Avaza’s hold, in chambers deep,He stored his gold and barred the mountain keep.
Then, crossing Jihun, he led out his force,And toward the field of battle took his course.
Both armies halted, ready for the fray,Two stages out from Balkh along the way.
Between the armies two farsangs of groundLay fit for war, where death and fame are found.
Next day brave Bahram rode abroad to scanParmudeh’s troops and judge each fighting man.
He chose a height above the level land,And mounted all his troops at his command.
Parmudeh saw them fill the desert’s face,With Bahram at their head in warlike grace.
He marveled at his stature and his frame,And on his lips was God’s oft-spoken name.
He groaned in grief: “A lion leads this foe;Yet few the warriors in his ranks, I know.
Their leader is a reckless man of might;Beneath him earth will redden in the fight.
At night we shall attack and drive them back,And banish terror from the army’s track.”
Returning to his camp, he planned the fray,And praised the steeds in that small foe’s array.
“Their troops are few, yet excellent their steeds;Their warriors match the chief whom valor leads.
Bahram Chubin has a heart like flame;To him, spears, thorns, and weeds are all the same.
He conquered Saveh; triumph makes him brash,And blood has made him drunk and quick to clash.
With God to aid me, vengeance I shall takeUpon that mountain for my father’s sake.”
When Bahram marched to crush the Turkish might,A star-seer warned him of the hour to fight:
“On Wednesday, draw no weapon from its sheath;Ill-omened battle yields a bitter wreath.”
Between both camps there lay a garden fair,Beside the field, in pleasant morning air;
When Wednesday dawned, he sought that shady space:“Let wine and harp make glad this peaceful place!”
They spread fine carpets and prepared a feast,With wine and food, while songs and joy increased.
He feasted in the garden without fear,While battle’s shadow still was drawing near.
When one watch of dark night had passed away,The outposts came to where Parmudeh lay.
They said, “Bahram is feasting in the close.”Parmudeh’s anger like a night-wind rose.
He chose six thousand horsemen, brave in fight,With swords and spears, but not a lamp for light.
He sent them out to ring the garden wall,And hold the ground about it, one and all.
When Bahram learned the purpose of their raid,He called Yalan-sina and sought his aid:
“O chief, break through this wall and clear our way,Before the Turks close in and win the day.”
Brave Bahram mounted with Gashasp again,Accompanied by tested fighting men;
They poured out through the breach to meet the foe,And dealt the raiding Turks a crushing blow.
At garden-gate the karnays raised their cry;The chieftain charged as battle thundered high.
They quickly made a second breach and came,And struck the foe amid the night’s dark flame.
Bahram, half-drunk, with dart within his hand,Assailed them fiercely on the broken land.
Few men escaped him as he cleared the field;Though half-drunk, still his courage would not yield.
As smiths’ hard hammers ring on tempered steel,So rang the blows beneath the turning wheel.
From garden wall to where Parmudeh stayed,Along the road the headless dead were laid.
When Bahram had returned into his place,He planned a night attack with iron face.
Past midnight he armed all his men and ledHis forces where the dark its mantle spread.
Among the Turks no scout beheld his way;No watcher saw him till the horns’ wild bray.
When he had reached the ground, the karnays cried;The warrior Turks awoke on every side.
From each wing tabiras and shouting rose;Their clamor filled the hearing of their foes.
Amid the spears that crowded all the ground,No man could tell what comrades stood around.
Iranian khanjars flashed with fiery light,And seemed to set the earth and air alight.
Of all those valiant Turks but few remained;The stones turned coral-red where blood had rained.
Their leader fled like dust, his mouth gone dry,His lips turned blue beneath the darkened sky.
So passed the night until the dawn drew breath,And somber darkness drew its skirts from death.
The Iranian chief then overtook the foe,And roared up like a lion from below:
“O runaway, you shame the brave today;You are no man of battle; ride away.
It fits you still to suck your mother’s milk,Not wear a jowshan or a robe of silk.”
The prince replied, “Fierce lion, how long stillWill you pursue this slaughter with such will?
Nahang and desert leopard sated grow;Is there no end to blood you cause to flow?
You struck King Saveh’s head from off its place,A man whose farr the circling skies embrace.
You slaughtered troops; the sun and moon looked onIn pity for the lives that now are gone.
I am the remnant of my father’s reign;Regard me now as one already slain.
Both Turk and Iranian are born to die;No birth beneath this heaven can pass death by.
I flee, you follow, yet you cannot takeMy life until its destined hour shall wake.
If sword in hand I turn against your might,One of us may be slain in single fight.
Do not be hasty, hot of head, or stern;A noble chief from such extremes should turn.
I shall go to my tent and write the king,And seek the safety that his grace may bring.
If he accepts me and will grant me grace,I shall serve his court and yield my royal place.
Put war and strife away. You came to fight;Now feast with goodwill after battle’s night.”
Bahram, on hearing, turned his force away,Agreeing to the royal course that day.
When all his troops had rested, Bahram wentTo where Parmudeh’s army pitched its tent.
They cut the chieftains’ heads from every side,And heaped them mountain-high where warriors died.
The warriors, assembled on the plain,Named it Bahram’s Mound above the slain.
They gathered weapons scattered on the ground,And brought the captured gear beside the mound.
Bahram then wrote the Shah of all the fight,Parmudeh’s army and its broken might.
He told what he had suffered in the fray,From Turks and their proud monarch on that day.
He wrote that from the field Parmudeh fled,And in Avaza’s fortress hid his head.
Parmudeh shut the fortress gate in fear,And brooded on the danger drawing near.
The troops surrounded all the fortress ground,But no means of attack could yet be found.
Bahram said, “Better war than long delay;To linger at this task is not the way.”
He bade Yalan-sina choose from the fieldThree thousand horsemen armed with sword and shield.
Izad Gashasp led, at the chief’s behest,Four thousand warriors, battle-tried, the best.
“Behead all found; let blood flow far and wide,A river that may draw the king outside.”
E5.19
Hormizd Shames Bahram Chubin
👑😠✍️📜📩🏇💪🧵🪡👗🧕⛓️🎁🎭😳👥⚠️17 emoji · the whole poem in emoji →
Hormizd writes Bahram a letter of contempt and sends him a woman’s outfit — distaff, spindle and cotton, a gown and a veil of golden thread — with iron fetters, with a base envoy instructed to add insults and to announce his removal from command.
15 couplets · Bahram Chubin named 1 time · in the full poem
The king then wrote to Bahram in disdain:“O foul, rebellious Div, corrupt and vain!
Blind arrogance has robbed you of your sense;You mock our majesty with insolence!
You fail to see that God grants all your might,Yet mount the turning heavens in your flight.
Have you forgotten all our toil and strain,The gold and armies lavished on your plain?
You shun the path true Pahlevans maintain,And lift your haughty head in proud disdain!
You turned aside from what my word decreed,And chose instead another path and deed.
Here is the robe of honor fit for you,A gift well matched to everything you do.”
The Shah then sealed the scroll and gave commandTo fetch the emblems of the spinner’s hand:
A distaff, case, and spindle laid with care,With skeins of cotton for his hands to bear;
A woman’s gown, a veil of golden thread,With heavy iron fetters forged in dread.
He chose a courier base in thought and pride,To bear those mocking tokens to his side.
He said, “Present these tokens to his sight,And let my words augment his shameful plight:
‘O faithless slave, you bound the Khan in spite,And in the fall of nobles found delight!
Now from your high command you shall be cast;The season of your prominence is past!’”
The envoy brought the gifts with all due speed,And spoke the message as the Shah decreed.
E5.22
Bahram Chubin Claims Royal Title
🏇💪🏛️🪑👑✨👥👤👀😰👤🤫🌃🐎🏃🏇💪👀👥🐎🧭⛓️👨💼👑⚠️🎁26 emoji · the whole poem in emoji →
Bahram holds court on an ivory throne, wearing Siavash’s crown. The chief scribe warns Kharrad, and the two flee Balkh by night. Horsemen bring the scribe back; Bahram, hearing that he fled in fear, pays him for his losses and returns him to his desk.
27 couplets · Bahram Chubin named 5 times · in the full poem
Next day, when dawn had silvered every height,And morning filled the world with golden light,
Bahram spread carpets of Chinese brocade,As if the vault of heaven were displayed.
Throughout the palace, golden seats were placed,With gold-embroidered cushions richly graced.
They reared an ivory throne within the hall,Where sat the captain, raised above them all;
He wore Siavash’s crown of ancient gold,And held his court like sovereigns of old!
The chief scribe watched Bahram Chubin, and knewHis boldness, strength, and royal hunger grew.
He went and told Kharrad what he had seen,Both sight and rumor, all that it could mean.
Kharrad, son of Barzin, was racked with pain,And saw that patient counsel had proved vain.
He whispered: “Noble scribe, heed this alarm;Do not despise this brewing cloud of harm!
Our king of kings has acted like a fool,And made the spindle-case his scornful tool.
He did not know this lion’s heart or mind,Nor what fierce temper in him lay confined.
We must keep silent here; at night we goBefore the Shah to tell him what we know.”
Convinced the general plotted for the reign,They marked his pride and saw his treason plain;
They weighed the danger, planned a secret flight,And slipped away from Balkh beneath the night.
The chief soon learned the two had fled away,Those prudent men who would no longer stay.
He said to bold Yalan-sina, “Now ride;Take a full hundred horsemen at your side.
Pursue those fugitives upon their way;Ride swiftly after them without delay!”
Though Barzin’s crafty son outstripped the chase,The burdened scribe was halted in his race:
Yalan-sina assailed him where he turned,And seized him like a wolf as anger burned;
He bound his wrists in an unyielding chain,And dragged him back to Bahram’s court in pain.
He brought him there intending he should die,Though no just charge against the scribe could lie.
Bahram said, “You have done a foul Div’s deed;Why flee without my leave at such great speed?”
The scribe replied: “Kharrad aroused my fear;He swore we could no longer linger here!
He warned that when the general claimed the throne,His wrath would crush the scribes who served his own.
He urged this flight!” Bahram replied: “Just so;A prudent soul anticipates each blow.”
He paid the scribe for everything he lost,And added gifts beyond the reckoned cost.
Then said, “Now tend your office and your pen,And never think of flight from here again.”
E6.5
Khosrow and Bahram Parley
👑🐎💎🏇💪🤝🗣️😠👑❓👨👦🧬⚖️🏳️👥📜🎭🗣️💢👑🆚👑↩️23 emoji · the whole poem in emoji →
Across the Nahravan the king and the rebel abuse and argue with each other at length. Khosrow offers him command of Iran; Bahram offers a gibbet. They dispute whether kingship comes by blood, merit or conquest, trading precedents from Ardeshir to Rostam, until Khosrow laughs and turns back.
281 couplets · Bahram Chubin named 21 times · in the full poem
Bahram and Khosrow met; the king showed cheer,The other’s face was grim as he drew near.
The young Shah rode an ivory-gray in pride,With gold and rubies crowned, his chiefs beside.
His robe from Chin was gold brocade in light,A blaze of kingship in the army’s sight.
Gordvi advanced before him as his guide,With Gostaham and Bandvi, both allied.
Kharrad Barzin among them now drew near,A golden helmet flashing bright and clear.
In iron, silver, gold, the chiefs rode by;Their gems and golden girdles caught the eye.
Bahram grew pale with fury at the scene,And spoke before his chiefs in tones of spleen:
“This low-born wretch, this miscreant of shame,Has risen now to manhood, power, and name.
The down is scarcely written on his face,Yet he assumes the royal crown and place.
Now, like Fereydoon, he would seize the throne,And make the gorz and diadem his own.
He takes the style of kings with brazen breath,But soon this world will close on him in death.
This dark-souled bastard leads his troops in pride,With Anooshirvan’s fortune at his side.
Search through his troops and see if any manCould face my sword or match me if he can.
I see no single warrior in that massWho could confront me while one breath might pass.
Now he shall see the work that men can do,The steeds, the swords, the gorzes striking through.
Clubs strike, and arrows rain down from the sky;Once more the heroes raise their battle cry.
When I advance, the elephants give way;The mountains crumble at my voice that day.
The lion flees before my battle yell;Upon the sea my blade shall cast a spell.
The desert I shall fill with blood,” he said,Then spurred his piebald charger on ahead.
As though a homa flew, the charger sped;The army watched, astonished, where he led.
He chose a narrow stretch on which to fight,And rode to Nahravan in Khosrow’s sight.
With him rode several men of Iran’s force,All bent on war with Khosrow in their course.
Khosrow said, “Noble chiefs, make known to meWhich man is Bahram, that my eyes may see.”
Gordvi replied: “O king, observe the steed,That piebald courser of impetuous breed;
The rider clothed in white, with baldric black,Who surveys the field from that charger’s back:
That is Bahram!” The Shah replied in scorn:“That swarthy giant, withered, battle-worn,
Who flaunts his piebald with such haughty show?”Gordvi replied: “He comes to work you woe.”
Then Khosrow said, “Ask him whose back is bowed;His answer will be coarse, his manner loud.
His pig-like nose and sleepy eyes revealThe anger that his heart cannot conceal.
An enemy of God stands in that place;I see no sign of service in his face.
No man, I think, can rule his stubborn head,Or change the path his greedy heart would tread.”
To Gostaham and Bandvi then he spoke:“A proverb suits this man who spurns the yoke:
If to the load the ass will not draw near,Then bring the heavy load beside him here.
If some bold foul Div fooled Bahram’s sight,How should he see the way of God and right?
For hearts that ache with greed are never stayedBy all the counsels sages have conveyed.
Bahram wants war; no justice guides his mind.We must weigh all the outcomes we may find.
Who knows which force shall triumph when they meet,Which side shall rise, which side endure defeat?
His troops stand well-arrayed and battle-bound;Their chief would prove what strength in him is found.
Bahram is grim, a Div who leads the band,With wolf-like fighters gathered at command.
With your consent, lest shame should cling to me,I first will offer peace for all to see.
To greet him first is better than to showA weakness when in battle with the foe.
If he replies in fairness and restraint,His recent wrongs may yet be cleansed of taint.
I will bestow some corner of the earth,And win his thanks by bounty and by worth.
Our war and field endeavors then may cease;This gain is ours if battle turns to peace.
When kings can bargain wisely and succeed,The pious joy in such a prudent deed.”
Then Gostaham replied, “O king, live long;Your speech is strewn with gems of wisdom strong.
Do what you will; your justice lights the way,While that slave’s heart is wind and dust today.”
Then Khosrow rode before his gathered troops,And raised his voice across the hostile groups.
He called to Bahram, seeking to be heard,And sent across the ranks a peaceful word:
“Illustrious man, how do you fare today,Here on the field where troops stand in array?
You are the court’s own jewel, bright and rare,The throne’s strong wealth, the army’s prop and care.
You are a lamp that brightens every feast,And when war rises, valor is released.
You are ambitious, brave, and serve God’s light;May God preserve your name in every fight.
I have weighed all your case, and I intendTo welcome you with honor as a friend.
I will receive you and your ranks with song,And glad my heart will be to see you strong.
I shall appoint you chief throughout Iran,And place you first among each Pahlevan.
For you I shall make prayer to God Most High,That Fortune keeps your glory near the sky.”
When brave Bahram heard Khosrow’s courteous call,He checked his black-tailed piebald before all.
He saluted from the saddle, paused in pride,Then answered sharply from the other side:
“I stand at ease, in Fortune blithe and high;May greatness never lift you to the sky.
You have no grasp of kingship or its right,Nor what is justice in the world’s clear sight.
Alanons’ king would rise to rule the land,With only luckless men to lend a hand.
I have considered you and shaped a snare,A noose well-twisted for your neck to bear.
I will erect a lofty gibbet soon,And hang you under sun and watching moon.
Your hands shall be made fast within the coil,And Fortune’s bitterness shall be your spoil.”
When Khosrow heard, his cheeks grew pale and wan;He knew Bahram would press the battle on.
He knew he would not quit the crown and throne,Nor cast away the claim he called his own.
He answered, “Ingrate, good men do not speakSuch words to guests who come their peace to seek.
When guests arrive from far before your gate,Do you revile them at the feast in hate?
Such conduct is no custom among kings,Nor Pahlevans from whom true honor springs.
No Iranian or Arab, I say,Has treated guests in such a shameful way.
The wise would blush to hear such words from you;Do not embrace ingratitude as true.
When guests salute you with a gracious face,Only a Div’s dark heart returns disgrace.
I fear ill days await your road and reign,For all your counsels wander into pain.
Your remedy is in that King’s commandWho lives forever, ruling sea and land.
Yet in His name you sin and show disgrace,With fear at heart and shame upon your face.
You call me Alanons’ king, yet you knowMy lineage: why then abase me so?
Am I unfit to wear the crown and reign,With Anooshirvan’s blood within each vein?
Hormizd, my father, wore the royal sign;Whom do you know more worthy in this line?”
Bahram replied, “Mad wretch in word and deed,Hear now the answer that your follies breed.
You speak of guests; your tale is old and worn,Your nature evil from the day you were born.
You are no sage, no Pahlevan to fear,No man whose worth commands a soldier’s ear.
You ruled Alanons, seated on their throne;A slave of slaves has rank above your own.
You are a worthless evildoer, base,No Shah or chief that mighty men would face.
But men bless me as Shah. I will not letYour foot on earth remain where mine is set.
When I called you ill-starred, a mean disgrace,Unfit to govern any royal place,
I said it, worthless Shah; may crown and stateBe never yours by Fortune, will, or fate.
Iran’s men are your foes in heart and hand;They will uproot your power from the land.
They will tear skin and veins and leave your bonesFor dogs to gnaw beside the broken stones.”
Khosrow replied, “Knave, why so fierce and proud?Foul speech disgraces men before the crowd.
From first to last your nature has been clear;Sound wisdom never found a lodging here.
Blessed is the man who nurtures wisdom’s light;A Div always talks when death comes in sight.
I would not see a Pahlevan like youDestroyed by wrath and all the harm you do.
I beg you, banish anger from your heart;Do not let wrath consume your better part.
Remember God, the just Possessor’s name,And found your wisdom on His righteous claim.
A height before you towers, stark and wide,More vast than great Bistoon’s own mountainside.
If from your stock a king should ever rise,The barren thorn would fruit before men’s eyes.
Your heart is full of dreams of royal power;We shall see what God wills in His good hour.
Who taught you such an Ahrimanic creed,And trained your nature for this evil deed?
The one who counsels you and draws you nearIs plotting death with whispers in your ear.”
He spoke, dismounted from his ivory-gray,And took his costly crown off there to pray.
He turned toward the sun with grievous cries,And placed his hope in God who rules the skies.
“O glorious Judge, who brings hope’s tree to fruit,You know who wrongs Your slave with proud dispute.
You know how shame now stains the royal crown,And how this rebel seeks to pull it down.
If royalty must leave our ancient race,I will not strive to hold the royal place.
I will become a servant in the Fire,And live on herbs and milk with no desire.
I shall not hoard up coin of any kind,But wear coarse wool, to holy rites resigned.
Yet if the crown by God is meant as mine,I will serve You with justice as my sign.
Grant victory to my army in this fight;Keep crown and throne beyond that wretch’s might.
If I prevail, this crown and steed shall goTo Azargashasp, where the fires glow.
These armlets, earrings, torque, and robe, which shineWith gold and gems, I too shall give that shrine.
Upon the lapis dome I shall let streamTen bags of dinars, yellow in their gleam.
When I return, the worshippers shall thenHave a hundred thousand silver coins again.
A city by injustice overthrown,Where wild beasts roam, I shall rebuild in stone.
Where thorns grow, lions and wild asses stray;I shall send treasure, driving want away.
Bahram’s men whom we capture shall be madeTo serve the sacred Fire with ready aid.
The Mobadan and Hirbads I shall please,And set their troubled hearts once more at ease.”
He rose, a wronged man, with the truth for shield,And turned from worship back to face the field.
Swift as a dust-cloud from his place of prayer,He called to Bahram through the battle air:
“You hellish, Div-hearted slave of rage,Remote from wisdom, grace, and every sage,
Some rabid Div, tyrannous and strong,Has blinded you and urged your heart to wrong.
Instead of wisdom, vengeance rules your breast;The Divs’ praise is what you love the best.
A thorn-choked plain seems like a town to you,And hell itself a garden fresh and new.
The lamp of wisdom in your brain is dead,And luster from your mind and heart has fled.
Deceitful magic has misled your sight;It shows a downfall in the promised height.
Today you set your hand upon a shoot,With leaves of poison and with bitter fruit.
Your stock has never reached for such a prize,Nor is such grasping honored in men’s eyes.
God has denied you royal farr and grace;No diadem befits your subject race!
Have you forgotten Gorgin, Milad’s son,Whose treacherous folly left his name undone?
Can river crabs contest the falcon’s flight?Can ravens soar above the solar height?
By holy God, by crown and royal throne,If I should meet you troopless, on your own,
And blow a chilling blast against your face,You would not stand before my kingly place.
I have heard harsh words from you, one by one,And lean on Him by whom the day is won.
If I am not fit for the kingly name,May I not live in servitude and shame.”
Bahram replied, “Possessed and witless fool,You never prized your father’s royal rule.
Your sire, the Shah, upheld the sacred creed,Wronged none and followed justice in each deed.
You flung him vilely from his royal seat,And now would set the world beneath your feet.
You would be wise and vigilant? Your stainMakes you God’s foe, with evil all your gain.
Even if Hormizd had been harsh and wrong,And earth and time against him raised their song,
It was not fit for you, his son, to reignBy sin, in Iran or Turan’s domain.
You merit neither life nor throne nor room;Far from good Fortune, you deserve a tomb.
For Hormizd I shall take revenge in fight;In Iran now the crown is mine by right.
Now make this clear to me: what upright manApproved the blinding of the royal clan?
Who said that you might sear the eyes of Shahs,Or bid another do that deed for cause?
From Sun to Fish’s back, accept this sign:The crown and royal power now are mine.”
Khosrow replied, “May I not live to knowA joy that springs from my own father’s woe.
What had been written came; what had to beHas come to pass beneath God’s own decree.
How long will empty boasts exalt your name,While you before your troops the kingship claim?
A shroud will not be yours when death draws near,Yet you proclaim yourself a monarch here.
With others’ horses, barding not your own,You play at kingship, far below the throne.
You have no house, no homeland, birth, or sign;You are a windbag king with borrowed shine.
With such false title and such empty wares,You will not mount the throne of royal heirs.
Brave men before you, with their gorzes great,Were servants, not pretenders to the state.
As lieges, they forbore the sovereign seat,And laid no claim to rule beneath their feet.
But you grow rabid, all restraint denied,And make your shame a thing you cannot hide.
God founded kingship on a threefold claim:On justice, merit, and ancestral name.
He gives it to the worthiest, the wise,To those from whom the least of harms arise.
My father gave Alanons’ realm to me,Made angry with me by your treachery.
And now God has bestowed on me the crown,The throne and greatness, by His will sent down.
I hold them from the Master of the skies,Who sees all deeds beneath His watchful eyes.
With Hormizd’s leave I took the royal place;He held the crown inherited through race.
I hold them from the priests and sages’ word,The mighty chiefs whose judgment has been heard.
I hold them by the Faith that Zardosht broughtFrom Paradise, with wisdom nobly taught.
He gave Lohrasp the word of God in light,And Goshtasb took and held that teaching bright.
All those who wronged me in this troubled hour,And those whose wealth has come into my power,
Are under my protection, foe or friend;My care shall guard them firmly to the end.
Their wives and children, too, shall know my care;I shall call all men pious everywhere.
The destitute in ruined towns shall findWealth at my hand, and leave their grief behind.
Outcast or kin, I will uphold their right,And make their ruined dwellings whole and bright.
Like Paradise, the bramble fields shall growBeneath wide skies, where men and cattle go.
I shall leave goodness in the world, a nameThat lives beyond my death in lasting fame.
Come, let our hearts be scales to weigh the right,And let our arms be strengthened for the fight.
When Shah Hormizd made justice his first choice,Both earth and time had reason to rejoice.
The son should keep the crown his father wore,The throne, the girdle, Fortune, as before.
But you, sly man of treachery and spite,First raised your hand against Hormizd in fight.
No evil came except by your command,Your spells, your plotting, and your treacherous hand.
If God shall will, in the wronged monarch’s name,I will dim light where your war-banners flame.
Now who deserves the crown? If not I, who?What other man can claim it as his due?”
Bahram replied, “The man who takes your crownIs worthy of the throne and its renown.
When Babak’s daughter bore the royal heir,The Ashkanians held sway everywhere.
Did Ardeshir not strike Ardavan dead,And set the crown by force upon his head?
Five hundred years of Sasan’s rule are spent,And cold now grow the heads of that descent.
Now comes my day for diadem and throne;The power and work are mine; the task my own.
Conquering Fortune stands allied with me;The crown is mine by Heaven’s own decree.
When I behold your troops, your face, your crown,My lion-hearted wrath will strike them down.
I will abolish all Sasanians’ fame,And scrape from every roll the Sasan name.
Their head and crown together I will tread;Their Fortune too shall lie among the dead.
Great power rightly to the Ashkanians falls,If wisdom heeds what lineage recalls.”
Khosrow replied, “If rule should leave our line,Who are you to declare, ‘That rule is mine’?
What place have you among that royal breed?What claim can spring from your ambitious seed?
What are the folk of Rey but double-faced,Their manhood weak, their counsel all debased?
From Rey a little force joined in the fightWith Iskandar and Rum’s great legions’ might.
They seized the throne; from them great evil came,Which God the Maker would condemn to shame.
From Rey came Mahiyar, vile heart, foul deed,Who darkened Esfandiyar’s royal seed.
The Iranians girded, each resolved to gainRevenge for all the evil and the pain.
The Judge who gives support crowned Ardeshir,And made his Fortune blaze across the sphere.
He was most worthy of the royal crown,Though lacking wealth, his worth won high renown.
Those heroes’ names have passed; their day is gone,And all our words are wind that wanders on.
Now who deserves the rule and lordly seatWithin this shifting world beneath our feet?”
Bahram replied, “I am the fighting manWho shall uproot the whole Kayanian clan.”
Then Khosrow answered, “You have heard the sawThat teaches noble order, rule, and law:
Do not entrust the gear of royal stateTo mean or wayward men who harbor hate.
You cannot get it back when you demand;Its power has made him drunk who holds command.
My father, rash, ill-counseled, could not knowWhat lay concealed beneath the outward show.
With worthy nobles ranged on either flank,He set the thankless one above each rank.
What did the sweet-voiced sage once say of men?Do not uplift the thankless one again.
To raise up fickle men brings toil and pain;Avoid the thankless, or your hopes are vain.
You once were brave, high-aiming, keen in fight,But nature’s flaw has dimmed your inner light.
My father placed you first among the great;You stood above the chiefs in royal state.
But favor and the silver throne’s bright snareHave made you drunk, beyond all prudent care.
Chubin is now Bahram in name and fame;That silver throne has trapped you in your claim.
You sit upon it, longing for the moon;A sepahbod would be a monarch soon.
No sage has ever held such speech as this;I do know you consort with the Div’s kiss.”
Bahram replied, “Evil man, you knowReviling is the only skill you show.
You heed no covenant, justice, law, or right,And seek a state beyond your rank and might.
You blinded Hormizd; how can such a deedBe hidden from the world or cleansed by creed?
Your friends are yours in word, but mine in heart;They wear your colors while from you they part.
The Khan is my ally, and with him standThe armies drawn from Chin at my command.
I rule with justice, sword held in my hand;No enemy can wrest from me my land.
From Pars to Rey I shall transfer the crown,And cast the Kayanian glory down.
I shall restore the customs Milad knew,And make the ancient laws of Rey come true.
I spring from famed Arash, and in the fightI am a fire no man can quench by might.
I am great Gorgin’s grandson, and I claimThe blazing force of Barzin’s sacred flame.
King Saveh meant Iran to lose its crown,Its throne and signet trampled, broken down.
He meant to raze the temples, and eraseNowruz and Sadeh from their honored place.
The Iranians would have all been enslaved,Had I not risen and my people saved.
If you would know how many marched that day,Four hundred thousand formed his vast array.
Twelve hundred elephants of war he led;The earth beneath their weight bowed low in dread.
That vast array fled from my lion’s cry,Their broken ranks like dust beneath the sky.
No man devoid of deeds and proven mightWould seek the throne or claim the royal right.
My helmet bears the promise of the crown;My sword shall win the ivory throne’s renown.
If but a gnat should war with you in pride,It would unseat you, sweeping you aside.”
Khosrow replied, “Recall Gorgin of Rey:What royal throne or Fortune marked his day?
No throne or majesty to him was shown;He had no state, and he was scarcely known.
Your name was hidden; you were poor and small,Until Mehran Setad reached the Shah’s hall.
He told the monarch of your youth and name,And raised you from the dust to public fame.
The king supplied you treasure, arms, and men,And Rostam’s moon-bright banner rose again.
God did not will the Turks from Chin to spoilIran, or crush the lives upon its soil.
He helped you in that fight; your helmet roseToward clouds because God humbled all your foes.
The Great King’s Fortune brought success that day;You claimed the merit and were led astray.
If kingship leaves the Kayanian line,Why should you strive to hasten its decline?
It takes the force of Iskandar’s own handTo darken kingship over all the land.
May you, with the Div face and dusty head,Attain to nothing but a ditch when dead.
Your wayward conduct dimmed my father’s days;You coined my name to end my life through praise.
You are the source of evil; blood you spillWill hang you in the next world for that ill.
You will not find in sleep throughout the nightWhat all day long you hunt beneath the light.
O luckless, unjust man, give not your daysTo crookedness, nor walk such ruined ways.
Do not bring such disgrace upon your head,Nor live unjust, miserable, misled.
Seek God’s good favor; let your labor showThat wisdom guides your steps where you may go.
For what is mine and yours will pass and fade;Time counts each breath until the debt is paid.
Who says, when guile has clothed your heart in night,That guile is better than the path of right?
Obey, and have your wishes: you shall shareA portion of this realm beneath my care.
Then in this world you will know peace and rest,And leave it, calm of heart, at death’s behest.
Zardosht has spoken in the Zand; his loreWe may not lessen, nor may we add more.
Zardosht has said: who leaves the holy roadHas lost all awe of God, all inward goad.
Counsel him for a year; if counsel fails,Then death by royal order next prevails.
Cast out his guilty corpse upon the way;Slay rebels to the Shah without delay.
Men will shed your blood, for a twisted fateDemands this payment from your rebel state.
A wretched life awaits, and fire’s embrace,If still you turn from Shah and God’s own grace.
You ail, and counsel is the drug you need;I strive to heal your envy and your greed.
If envy rules, another healer’s artI shall bring here to cure your ailing heart.
Your healer, counsel; wisdom is the cureThat may remove the crown’s deceitful lure.
Your victories made you someone in the state,But thoughts of treasure opened ruin’s gate.
Have you heard how Zahhak’s impious reignMade Divs and warlocks fill the world with pain?
When noble hearts could bear his rule no more,What did Fereydoon do? Recall that lore.
Your troops, alive or dead, are mine by right;Through you they gained some honor in the fight.
When I display my treasure to the band,Their hearts will soften at my open hand.
Your men, grown rich when Saveh met defeat,Thought no new foe could force them to retreat.
I would not have Iran’s great warriors slain,Nor bring defeat and ruin on my reign.
Tell me, in Arash’s days, who held the land?”“Manuchehr,” said Bahram, “held command.”
Khosrow replied, “You know he ruled the world,While Arash served where royal flags were furled.
So Rostam learned from Kay Khosrow, and knewThe ways of kings, their throne and customs too.
He kept the customs of the kings; his eyeNever sought their throne or station high.”
Bahram replied: “You shepherd-born disgrace,Sprung from a herdsman of ignoble race!
Did Babak not bid Sasan take his crook,To tend his ewes beside the mountain brook?”
Khosrow replied: “Falsehood procures no crown;Such slanders drag your warrior honor down!
You spring from crooked roots; yet Sasan’s breadEnriched your house and raised your father’s head!”
Bahram retorted: “Though your words be bold,A shepherd’s crook was Sasan’s lot of old!”
Khosrow said: “When King Dara breathed his last,To noble Sasan was the kingship passed!
Though Fortune waned, the royal seed remained;By lies no sovereign title is attained!
With such blind judgment, would you govern men?”He laughed in scorn, and turned his rein again.
E6.11
Bahram Chubin Claims the Throne
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Bahram puts the question of the throne to Iran’s chiefs. Some hail him, some urge him to seek Khosrow’s pardon; when one proposes waiting for a royal heir, Bahram swears to behead any woman of the royal line. A written pact is signed and sealed, and he is crowned.
101 couplets · Bahram Chubin named 13 times · in the full poem
When Sol took up his sword and cleft the night,Bahram Chubin called chiefs in jowshans bright.
He called Iran’s nobles to his side,And set them high where kings in glory bide.
With golden seats about the throne now placed,He sat in joy, with royal triumph graced.
Then with a mighty utterance he spoke,And from his lips a kingly question broke:
“O noble, honored men, now make reply;Advise me truly under Fortune’s sky.
Search all the world: none worse than Zahhak came,Who slew his sire to win a monarch’s name.
Through that dark deed Iran fell to his hand,And evil’s shadow covered all the land.
Now Khosrow, cursed, has slain his father too;He fled to Rum when that foul deed was through.
Until a worthy royal heir is foundTo wear the crown, with kingly girdle bound,
Who is the man among us fit to stand,And raise the ancient customs of the land?
By Him who keeps the sun in heaven bright,I pledge my aid to set this matter right.”
The nobles heard the famous chieftain’s word,And in the hall no voice of dissent stirred.
Then Shahran Guraz, aged, brave, and bold,A warrior chief, stood eminent and old.
He answered, “You are helper of the world,A prince before whose flag the foe is hurled.
Had you not faced the threat when Saveh came,No man could match his might or check his aim.
He crossed our border to make free men slaves,And roll Iran beneath invading waves.
You armed yourself and turned that trouble back;Iran was safe from danger and attack.
Four hundred thousand warriors in the fightFled from your single shaft in broken flight.
Thus Iran rested after heat and strife;Her throne befits your Fortune and your life.
Whoever dares to turn from your command,Or shuns the pact by which we take our stand,
However brave, we shall compel him still,Though Khosrow be the cause that moves his will.”
He spoke and sat; Khorasan’s chief drew near,And stood before Bahram devoid of fear.
He said, “This elder, wise in ancient lore,Has spoken of the deeds that went before.
He told of all the good that you have done,And cheered the hearts of those here, every one.
Yet in the Zand-Avesta, Zardosht gaveA saying honest minds should heed and save:
Whoever turns from God, let counsel guideHis steps for one full year, with needs supplied.
If, when that year has passed, he still should stray,The Shah commands his death without delay.
If he remains the just Shah’s open foe,Then strike his head and let his lifeblood flow.”
He spoke and sat; then Farrokhzad arose,And weighed just speech against misfortune’s blows.
“O helpful chief,” he said, “let right prevail;Let none rejoice in words that tip the scale.
May you be blessed, Bahram; may your sightSustain the world and keep its order bright.
If what we say is judged unfit to stand,The conquering God lends us no helping hand.
This throne befits you; through your heart’s pure light,You cleanse the realm and set its wrongs to right.
May evil hands and tongues be kept at bay;May you, our Shah, live on in joy each day.”
He sat; then Khazarvan, the chieftain, came,A lion-hearted chief of noble name.
He said, “Though many men talk much today,The right still shows a better, plainer way.
Dispatch a cameleer with utmost speed;Do not delay or turn from wisdom’s lead.
Let not Khosrow Parviz, exalted still,Wear out the road to you through fear of ill.
Seek pardon for your deeds; do not now climbThe throne too boldly in an evil time.
No chief of chiefs deserves the royal throneWhile Khosrow lives to claim it as his own.
If Khosrow’s wrath has filled your heart with fear,Quit Pars and Tisfoon; withdraw from here.
Keep power in Khorasan; live in peace,And write to him to let your quarrel cease.
Send plea on plea with humble, careful art;Perhaps Khosrow may yet relent at heart.”
Before he moved, Zad Farrokh rose upright,And spoke with justice clear before their sight:
“O chiefs of noble race, I listened longTo Iran’s chosen leaders, right and wrong.
First comes a slavish plan, both dark and grave:To make a Pahlevan the Shah we crave.
Such counsel sickens every wise man’s frame,And brings a noble warrior lasting shame.
Khorasan’s words were lofty in their tone;Yet in them wisdom’s light has never shone.
But Farrokhzad spoke rashly, fierce and hot;Sound counsel has restraint; his words did not.
The fourth was Khazarvan, whose words rang true;His counsel kept the wiser course in view.
Begin with Zahhak, Arab, foul of mind,Whose unjust rule left righteousness behind.
He slew proud Jamshid, king of ancient fame,And seized the world through violence and shame.
The holy then grieved to see the Div reign,Their hearts oppressed with sorrow and with pain.
Next Afrasiab, miscreant of Turan,Crossed streams and raised his sword against Iran.
He cut off Nohzar’s head with ruthless steel;The fortunes of the land began to reel.
Third, Iskandar of Rum came to invade,Ravaged Iran, and there his dwelling made.
He slew brave Dara, noble, battle-tried,And joy and rest throughout Iran had died.
Fourth, foul Khoshnavaz laid our honor low,And dealt Iran a catastrophic blow:
Heytal’s fierce warriors slew King Pirooz then,The pride and glory of Kayanian men;
Yet those four scourges sprang from foreign seed,While we today perpetrate a fouler deed:
Our very army drives our prince astray,To beg for refuge in a land away!”
He sat and wept; his eyes were washed in grief,While sullen silence seized on every chief.
Bahram grew pale; then Sambaz took his stand,A veteran with Indian sword in hand.
Before the gathered chiefs, the elder cried:“This noble Pahlevan stands justified.
Until one born of royal race shall rise,And claim the realm before the nation’s eyes,
He should now take the royal crown and reign,Since conquering Fortune marks him for that gain.”
Bahram, chief of warriors, heard him through,And from its sheath his sharpened sword he drew.
He cried, “If in this quarter we should findA woman of the royal Shahs’ own kind,
My sharpened sword shall strike her head away;Her final breath shall rise that very day.
I will let no one rule this ancient land,Or ride as king amid a mounted band.”
When chiefs possessed by Ahriman had heardTheir leader’s foul and overweening word,
They drew their scimitars and rose as one,And uttered monstrous words beneath the sun:
“Bahram is Shah; we serve him and shall treadUpon our foes and crush each hostile head.”
When Bahram saw the drawn swords in their hands,He chose good sense and issued these commands:
“Who leaves his seat and grips his sword,” he said,“Shall lose his hand to sober him instead.”
He sought the garden; one by one they went,Their faces furrowed and their spirits spent.
When pitch-hued night unveiled its starry face,And watchmen’s cries resounded through the place,
He called for pen and paper; then there cameA wise and generous scribe to serve his aim.
The scribe set out the inkstand and the pen.Bahram said, “Write this pact from Iran’s men:
‘Bahram Chubin is Shah, let him be praised,Deserving crown and throne, by Fortune raised.
He seeks but truth, in all he may reveal,And equally in what he may conceal.’”
The writing done, they pondered through the night,And troubled faces waited for the light.
When lapis-colored darkness passed away,And all the world grew sun-gilt with the day,
A Fortune-favored man prepared the hallWithin Bahram Chubin’s palace wall.
He set the throne; they swept the great hall bare,Then hung the crown above the royal chair.
Upon the golden throne they set the seat;Then opened court, its setting now complete.
He took his place as Shah upon the throne;He wore the crown; his power was plainly shown.
The scribe then brought the royal scroll to light,On precious silk inscribed, both fair and bright.
Each chief then testified and signed his name:“Bahram is monarch, worthy of his fame.”
He sealed it with his golden seal and said:“Let holy God bear witness overhead.
This realm is mine; may kings of my descentHold crown and throne through ages heaven-sent.
For one full thousand years may they remain,With son succeeding son throughout that reign.”
On Khorshid day, when Azar’s month was new,The spheres revolved in portents strange to view:
A lesser star usurped the solar throne;The world was turned to dust and shadows lone;
The royal cypress fell beneath the blade,While choking briars filled the garden glade.
Then Bahram spoke: “Our strife has passed away;No vengeance stands among us here today.
Whoever will not own this settlement,Whether upright or false in his intent,
May stay three days; then, at the fourth day’s glow,Must leave Iran and straight to Khosrow go.”
Men blessed him, though their hearts denied the word:“May earth not lack you!” through the hall was heard.
But those still loyal to their rightful kingGrieved that Bahram now ruled everything.
They left Iran and made for Rum’s frontier,Dispersing from the land they held so dear.
E6.26
Khosrow Overthrows Bahram Chubin
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Bahram’s arrow, Khosrow’s spear and Khosrow’s sword all fail in single combat. That night Bandvi sends a herald between the armies proclaiming pardon, and by dawn the tents across the plain stand empty. Bahram loads three thousand camels with his treasure and rides away.
36 couplets · Bahram Chubin named 4 times · in the full poem
The troops came down from high ground to the fight;The horsemen’s dust made black the face of light.
Bahram advanced his army to the fray;No light remained within the dust-dark day.
He said, “Whoever leads a fighting bandNeeds wit and courage, means at his command.
The brave have seen the darts my hands have thrown;My Pahlevan’s true nature they have known.
They chose me over kings; I shall bring shameUpon great Anooshirvan’s royal name.”
He rushed in reckless haste before the king,And strung his bow, prepared the shaft to fling.
He loosed an arrow at the Shah; it stayedCaught at his waist within the rich brocade.
The point hung slantwise; then a slave drew nearAnd pulled it free; the Shah charged with his spear.
The Shah then thrust his spear against his foe;It struck the belt where jowshan rings did show.
The spearhead snapped, yet still the rebel quailed;Though belt and jowshan held, his courage failed.
The Shah grew angry when his spear gave way;His sword struck on Bahram’s helm in the fray.
The sword-blade shattered with that mighty blow,And lodged within the helmet of his foe.
All those who saw and heard the iron ringRaised cries of praise around the fighting king.
The nobles followed where Khosrow had led,And shattered all the army ranged ahead.
Then Bandvi came before the Shah and cried,“O crown whose height outsoars the moon in pride,
These troops, like ants and locusts, now are spread,Across the sand and rocky desert bed.
No Shah should spill their blood in reckless strife,Or fight his slave to take that servant’s life.
Better that they appeal to us for graceThan fall or suffer wounds within this place.”
Khosrow replied, “I seek no vengeance hereOn those who turn from wrong; they need not fear.
I grant them grace; they shall not be cast down,But ornaments of glory for my crown.”
Night’s flag rose dark above the hills on high;Both armies drew back as the light passed by.
The sentries challenged, bells rang through the deep;The troops that night had little share of sleep.
Bandvi, resolved, went out across the plain,And chose a herald from the martial train.
He bade the clear-voiced herald mount and ride,And let his proclamation travel wide.
He rode between the armies, near the foe;The herald cried so every rank would know:
“O slaves who sinned and seek your fortune’s light,You worst offenders, famed for deeds in fight:
For God’s sake, he forgives each one of you,Your hidden crimes and those in public view.”
The sound went through the darkness, loud and clear;Each listener turned an attentive ear.
Bahram Chubin’s chiefs prepared for flight,And fastened on their belts that very night.
When sun rose up and day on hilltops shone,The tents across the plain were left alone.
Bahram knew nothing of the night’s events;Only his friends remained among the tents.
He passed among the tents and told his train,“Far better flight than Doomsday on this plain.”
Three thousand camels he called forth; they strainedBeneath his wealth, and all his camp contained.
They packed his clothes and carpets for the load,With gold and silver treasures for the road.
His ivory throne, gold torque and armlets bright,And crown were loaded ready for the flight.
When all was loaded, he prepared to go,And mounted, set to turn back from the foe.
E6.37
Bahram Falls by Kharrad’s Design
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Kharrad arms Kulun with a knife and the Khan’s seal, stolen in clay by the queen. At Marv, on the unlucky Bahram day, Kulun stabs Bahram and keeps silent under torture. Bahram counsels his sister, bequeaths his army to Yalan-sina, repents, and dies.
134 couplets · Bahram Chubin named 11 times · in the full poem
Bahram Chubin arrayed his full command,Like pheasant wings, their colors crossed the land.
He marched to Marv; then word to Chin was brought,To keep from Khosrow news of what they sought.
“Let none from Chin or Turkistan pass through,To tell Khosrow what we intend to do.
For news of us would be a precious prizeTo Khosrow; let the roads be shut to spies.”
The Khan proclaimed, “Who goes to Iran’s land,Without my seal, shall fall beneath my hand.
No wealth shall buy him off from death or pain;By God, I cleave such rebels on the plain.”
For three months Kharrad Barzin waited, sealedIn silence; not a secret he revealed.
Troubled, he sent for Kulun as his guest,And seated him in honor, richly dressed.
He said, “No one who dwells beneath the dayIs free from secret sorrow on his way.
You often begged, at every door in Chin,For millet, bread, and skin, when times were lean.
But now your food is lamb and wholesome bread,And costly garments cover foot and head.
Compare your present with your former state,Past curses with the blessings of your fate.
Your years have reached a hundred, more or less,Yet I have fearful business to address.
Through it you may obtain a kingly crown,Or darkened dust may drag your body down.
I shall procure the Khan’s seal for your pass;Then cross the land as fire runs through the grass.
You must gain entrance where the chief resides,And bide your hour until the day decides.
Don your black coat; conceal this poisoned knife,Prepared to stake your fleeting, aged life.
Mark well Bahram day; keep that day in sight,And seek that lord, the world’s resplendent light.
That day lies heavy-omened in his mind;For years I marked the shadow of its kind.
He will not have a crowd about him then;In Chin’s brocade he keeps apart from men.
Say, ‘From the daughter of the Khan I bringA message for the proud and mighty king.’
Keep your knife bare beneath your sleeve and wait,Until he draws you near his private gate.
When he admits you by yourself, then say:‘The noble lady sends these words today.
She said, “When you report into his ear,Hide every secret from all others near.”’
When he shall ask, ‘What secret? Tell it plain,’Approach him swiftly; let no gap remain.
Strike through his belly; if you find a way,Then leap clear of the room without delay.
When they shall see his wound and hear his cry,The camp will shake; confusion will run high.
Some seek the stables, some the treasure-trove;Still others seek the rugs that weavers wove.
No one will think of you in such an hour,While fear breaks order and dissolves all power.
If they should kill you, you have seen the earth,And weighed its sorrows, pleasures, grief, and worth.
Yet truly none will care at such a timeTo harm you for the deed or trace the crime.
If you escape the slaying, you have boughtThe world itself by one courageous thought.
The conquering Shah will grant a city’s crown,And give you worldly share and high renown.”
To Kharrad, old Kulun made this reply:“What further guide do I require, and why?
A hundred years have passed above my head;How long must I endure this life of dread?
My body and my soul I offer here;To ransom you, I hold my life less dear.”
When Kharrad heard, he hastened to the queen,And sought the promised boon behind her screen.
“My gracious lady, I now claim my boon;The thing I seek I shall reveal quite soon.
Some of my people on the farther sideAre held in bonds, their liberty denied.
Be pleased to set my own feet free from need;Procure the Khan’s seal-imprint for this deed.
Know this: by doing so, you give me life,And cut me free from bondage, fear, and strife.”
She said, “He sleeps in wine; I can take clay,And press his signet’s image there today.”
She asked Kharrad for clay, then went inside,Then reached the sleeper’s couch with cautious stride.
She pressed the clay upon his signet’s face,Then left the sleeping Khan and quit the place.
She brought the imprint back and gave it thenTo Kharrad, subtle master of the pen.
The scribe gave thanks and took that clay-pressed sign,And gave it Kulun for their dark design.
Kulun received the seal and swiftly went,As though a pheasant’s wings to him were lent.
He came to Marv; there he would wait and stayUntil the coming of Bahram day.
That day brought dread to Bahram’s troubled heart;He stayed at home, from field and men apart.
One slave attended him inside the room,Where fruits were set amid the chamber’s bloom.
Apples, quinces, pomegranates layBefore the chief throughout that fatal day.
Alone Kulun approached the outer gate,And spoke there to the porter, bent by fate.
“Sir, from the Khan’s own daughter, here I standWith word from her own home at her command.
I am no warrior, nor a man born free;The Khan’s own daughter sent these words with me.
That pious lady charged me to impartHer secrets to this chief alone, apart.
For her sake these must not be told aloud;No other ear may join the listening crowd.
She ails and bears a child; let me draw nearThe crowned sepahbod, so that he may hear.
Tell him that I may speak what she has willed,And leave her private message there fulfilled.”
The noble chamberlain made haste inside,And reached the room where Bahram would reside.
He said, “The princess’ messenger stands near,Clad in a ragged skin coat, to appear.
He says, ‘The Khan’s own daughter sent me here,To speak a private message in your ear.’”
Bahram replied, “Let him stand near the door,And show his face before he tells me more.”
Kulun drew near; within the doorway’s space,He showed his head, his poor and aged face.
When Bahram saw that wretched, feeble man,He said, “Show any letter, if you can.”
Kulun replied, “I bear these words alone;No other ear may hear what I was shown.”
Bahram said, “Come nearer; end this doubt;Speak in my ear and let the tale come out.”
Kulun drew close, the knife beneath his sleeve,His vengeful heart prepared to strike and leave.
He feigned a whisper, bent as if to speak,Then struck the navel, laying Bahram weak!
A cry rose from the chamber into air;The people rushed to him in dread and care.
Bahram cried, “Seize that man without delay;Ask who has guided him upon this way.”
Then all within the palace rushed in wrath;They broke his leg and blocked the killer’s path.
The servants, furious, struck him with their fists,With palms and blows on face and arms and wrists.
From midday till midnight their blows would fall;He kept his lips shut, silent through it all.
When they had broken hands and feet with blows,They flung him in the court among his woes.
They gathered then in sorrow and dismay,About Chubin, still bleeding where he lay.
He still bled on and groaned in bitter pain;His cheeks turned lapis; life began to wane.
Gurdiyeh came in anguish to his bed;She tore her locks; her lap received his head.
She wailed, “Brave horseman, lion of the wood,Before your face the forest’s lion stood,
Then fled. Who has removed the world’s tall stay?Who cast this mighty elephant away?
Woe for the chief, the horseman known of old,Who won the world, quelled lions, brave and bold.
Who wounded you, the chief of mighty frame?He serves no king, nor honors God’s great name.
Who tore this mountain from the waters’ bed?Who felled the cypress with its lofty head?
Who cast the crown of greatness to the ground?Who filled the sea with sudden dust all round?
Who cast this moving mountain down so deep,Into a chasm, leaving us to weep?
We live alone, despised in foreign lands,With no true helper and with empty hands.
I told you, captain of the band, beware;Do not uproot the sprout of loyal care.
Should but one daughter live of Sasan’s line,The land would serve her crown with light divine.
All Iran’s towns would answer her command,Nor turn from Sasan’s seed throughout the land.
Her blessed crown would touch the turning sky;You would not hear my counsel, though I cry.
You bring remorse before Yazdan of light,And bear a guilty soul beneath His sight.
Ill has befallen us; we are the sheep,Our enemies the wolves that prowl and leap.”
The wounded man heard all his sister said,And saw her heart, so wise, with grief had bled.
Her cheeks were torn by nails, her hair unbound,Her eyes and heart bled grief upon the ground.
Though faint and suffering, he loosed his tongue,And answered her while life within him clung.
“My noble sister, nothing could compareWith all the wisdom of your faithful care.
The measure of my life is full and done;I did not take advice from anyone.
A Div-minded guide held me in his grip;From wisdom’s path he made my footing slip.
No king surpassed great Jamshid, far or near;Through him the world knew hope as well as fear.
Yet at the Divs’ urging he went wrong,And made his world grow black though he was strong.
So too with watchful Kay Kavus, once blessed,By Fortune favored over all the rest.
The loathsome Div’s advice corrupted him;You know the evils that made Fortune dim.
He mounted heavenward to search its frame,And track the sun and moon from where they came.
So too the Div corrupted heart and soul,And drew me far from goodness as my goal.
I now repent the evil I have done;May God forgive the darkness I have spun.
So destiny was written on my head;Why mourn the path that brings me to the dead?
The water stands above my head; I seeThat grief and joy are wind alike to me.
What has been written now has come to be;No hand can add a word to Fate’s decree.
Your counsel is the keepsake I receive;Your words are earrings I would never leave.
Both right and wrong are over; do not callYour words again to mind beside my fall.
Turn now to God; spurn Fortune smiling bright;Tell none your grief or joy; keep both from sight.
My destined portion of the world is mine;The end has come; I leave the mortal line.”
To Yalan-sina then he gave command:“I leave this faithful army in your hand:
Obey Gurdiyeh; let her counsel guide;A wiser counsel walks not by your side.
Part not from her; may no division riseBetween you two beneath the turning skies.
Stay not for long within this hostile land;Go all to Khosrow; hear his own command.
If royal pardon grants you all a place,Serve him alone and seek no other grace.
Send Gordvi greetings; tell him of the bladeThat struck me here, and how the plot was laid.
In Iran make my tomb, my final bed;Pull down my palace when my life has fled.
Much grief I suffered, serving Chin’s great lord;Much praise he gave me as my due reward.
Was this the just return for all I gave,To send a Div to drive me to the grave?
Yet should the Khan learn how this blow was wrought,His mind may founder, baffled and distraught.
No men but those of Iran shaped this plan,And took the Div as guide against their man.”
He called a scribe and had a letter made,In which these words before the Khan were laid:
“Bahram Chubin has passed in shame and woe,His hopes brought down, his fortune lying low.
Be kind to those I leave, and shield them allFrom foes who seek to bring about their fall.
I never wronged you; I would go insteadWherever wisdom and right counsel led.”
He counseled then his sister long and well,Embraced her head, and spoke his last farewell.
He pressed his lips beside her listening ear;His eyes filled up with blood as death drew near.
Then life departed; all around him wept,And bitter sorrow in their hearts they kept.
His sister mourned and called his words to mind;Her heart was torn by grief she could not bind.
His sister had a silver coffin made;His frame was wrapped in folds of rich brocade.
Fine linen lay beneath his shirt; they spreadThe camphor round him till it hid his head.
Such is the course of this uncertain stay:Do not toil hard; you too must pass away.
Drink wine, not grief, by daylight and by night,With laughing lips and heart made glad and light.
Family
- Parents
- Goshnasp
On the maps
Where he appears
Named mentions by book, from the Universe Registry. Titles such as “the Shah” and epithets are not counted.