New NaqqaliShah of Iran · House of Sasan
Anooshirvanانوشیروان
ah-noo-sheer-VAHN
The Sasanian king of kings, son of Qobad, renowned for justice and wise counsel.
- His story
- From D12.7, Anooshirvan Overthrows Mazdak’s Faith, to E4.6, Anooshirvan’s Parting Counsel to Hormizd
- Named
- 151 times as Anooshirvan or Kisra, in 60 dastans; in his long reign he is mostly “the Shah”
- Parents
- Qobad, Qobad (Pirooz’s son)
- Spouses
- Anooshirvan’s Christian wife, The Khan of Chin’s daughter
- Children
- Hormizd (son of Anooshirvan), Nushzad
- Plates
- Vol III: I, Vol III: VI
- Pictures
- 47 panels · identity sheets
How we draw Anooshirvan
The identity sheets the illustrator works from, one for each stage of life. Tap to open full size. More in the Art section.
In the pictures
Anooshirvan in 47 woodcut panels of the illustrated poem, in story order. Tap one to see it with the couplets it illustrates.
D12.7Mazdak Seizes Kisra's Hand
D12.7Mazdak at the Garden Gate
D12.8Qobad Sealed in His Tomb
D13.4The Shah Rides Before Babak's Muster
D13.5Envoys Bring Tribute from Hind and Chin
D13.6The Wall Rises from the Sea
D13.7The Army Rings the Baluch Mountains
D13.7Gilan Comes Bound to the Shah
D13.8Monzer Rides to Meet the Shah
D13.11The Shah at the Fire of Azargashasp
D13.11A Soldier Buried with His Arms
D13.12Catapults Against ShurabAll 47 pictures
D13.13Farfuriyus Flees the Field
D13.13Antakiya, Like Paradise
D13.14The Shoemaker's Mulberry
D13.15Mehras Brings Caesar's Tribute
D13.18Anooshirvan Dictates His Command
D13.20.1The Boar on Anooshirvan's Throne
D13.20.1The Hidden Youth Among the Women
D13.20.2The Youth Rises Before the Sages
D13.20.3The Sages Question Bozorgmehr
D13.20.5Pearls for the Sage's Mouth
D13.20.7The Sixth Banquet in Full Array
D13.20.8Forty Bags for 'Good! Very Good!'
E1.1Mahbud's Sons Taste the Milk
E1.2Mahbud's Brand among the Hunting Horses
E1.2Zarvan Trembles in the Royal Tent
E1.3The Building of Sursan
E1.5The Shah's Host Marches from Madain
E1.6The Review on the Plain
E1.6Anooshirvan Rides Out in His Armour
E1.8The Khan's Envoys Lay Their Gifts
E1.10The Shah Beholds His Bride
E1.11Anooshirvan Prays at Azargashasp
E2.1The Raja's Chessboard Before the Throne
E2.1Bozorgmehr Wins Three Games
E3.1The Raven Steals the Pearls
E3.2The Casket Yields Three Pearls
E3.3Nursing Captives Returned to Their Mothers
E3.3The Hawk That Struck the Eagle
E4.1The Host Marches from Madain
E4.2Halted at the Flooded Trench
E4.3Roman Envoys Lay Gold Before the Shah
E4.5Hormizd Questioned into the Lamplit Night
E4.6The Court Weeps at the Testament
E4.7The Dream of the Rising Sun
E4.7Fourteen Battlements Fall at MadainHis 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.
D12.7
Anooshirvan Overthrows Mazdak’s Faith
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Mazdak demands that Kisra join his faith; the prince asks five months and gathers sages. At the appointed debate a Mobad demolishes the doctrine, Qobad renounces it, and Mazdak with three thousand followers is handed to Kisra, who plants them head down in a garden and hangs their leader.
88 couplets · in the full poem
At dawn Mazdak went out before the king,Intent upon the claim he meant to bring.
He said, “The faithful gather at the gate;Shall they come in, or must they leave and wait?”
Qobad then bade the chamberlain obey,And bring Mazdak’s assembled men that day.
Mazdak replied, “This house is far too small;The crowd will overflow the audience hall.
Let now the Shah go out beneath the sky,And view your servants mustered standing by.”
Qobad commanded that his throne be setOut in the open, where the throngs had met.
Three thousand of Mazdak’s men now drew near,And thronged before the Shah with open cheer.
Mazdak addressed the monarch of the earth:“O king whose wisdom stands above all worth,
Know this: Kisra rejects the faith we teach;Shall such defiance stand beyond our reach?
He must give written pledge before your faceTo turn from error and our faith embrace.
Five things alone turn mortal men aside;No sage has ever named a sixth beside.
They are envy and vengeance, anger, need;The fifth, which masters men, is grasping greed.
Conquer these five Divs, and you soon will seeGod’s open pathway shining clear and free.
From wealth and women these five ills arise;They ruin faith and darken human eyes.
Make wealth and women common; strife will cease:No greed, no envy, no revenge, but peace.
For these two kindle need and jealous fire,While wrath and vengeance answer their desire.
Thus does the Div corrupt the wisest head;Let goods and women both be shared instead.”
Then Mazdak took Prince Kisra’s hand; surpriseFilled Shah Qobad, who watched with wondering eyes.
The prince pulled back, his anger like a flame,And turned from Mazdak with a look of blame.
Qobad said, smiling, “Why should you declareSuch concern for the faith Kisra may bear?”
Mazdak replied, “His path is not our own;No trace of our religion there is shown.”
The Shah asked Kisra, “How can you declineThe path of faith, the righteous and divine?”
Kisra replied, “Grant me the needed span,And I will prove the falsehood of this plan.
When fraud and error both are brought to light,My truth will stand more visible and bright.”
Mazdak then asked, “What span will serve your view?Ask of the Shah, whose splendor shines on you.”
Kisra replied, “Five months I ask today;The sixth month come, then I shall have my say.”
They set the term and ended their debate;The Shah returned to halls of royal state.
Kisra sent envoys forth to every clime,To seek the sages, wise men of their time.
He sent one to Khorra-e-Ardeshir,To summon old Hormizd and bring him here.
From Istakhr came Mehr-Azar of Pars,With thirty learned men beneath the stars.
These seekers gathered, weighing every claim,And sifted Mazdak’s doctrine, word, and aim.
The men of ancient knowledge then made knownTheir settled judgment to the prince alone.
Kisra, when he had heard their full debate,Went to Qobad and spoke of Mazdak’s fate.
“The time has come,” he said, “for me to testThis creed, and learn which teaching serves God best.
If Mazdak proves the truth, and Zardosht’s creedIs shown as false, I follow in his lead.
I will accept his faith and choose his road,And take his doctrine for my soul’s abode.
If Fereydoon’s own path should prove untrue,And all the Zand’s instruction fail us too,
And if Mazdak’s new doctrine stands upright,The world must take him as its guiding light.
But if his words prove false, a hollow show,And God’s true path he never sought to know,
Then turn away from his corrupted creed,And hand them to me for their lawless deed.
God grant that none who work this fraud and sinMay keep the brain beneath the sheltering skin.”
He called Rizmehr, Khordad, Behzad by name,With Farayin and Bandvi, to proclaim.
Then Kisra to his palace-hall withdrew,And kept his pledge until the term fell due.
At dawn, when sunlight lifted up its crown,And ivory brightness over earth streamed down,
The king’s own son, whose speech was clear and strong,Set out with Mobadan and chiefs along.
Together to the royal court they came;Their words were ready, truth their single aim.
The Mobad came before Qobad and spoke,And with his words the waiting silence broke.
A high Mobad then faced Mazdak and said,“You seek out wisdom, yet leave men misled.
You fashioned in the world a strange new creed,And shared both goods and women for men’s need.
How shall a father know his son by name?How shall the son know from what sire he came?
If every man is equal in estate,How will the small be known apart from great?
Who then will serve, and who will rule the realm?What law or order could still hold the helm?
Who then will labor for us? Who can sayWhich men are good, which choose an evil way?
When one man dies, who takes the wealth he leaves,His house, his goods, his labor, and his sheaves?
The working man and Shah are now as one;How can the business of the realm be done?
Such ruin must not fall on Iran’s name;It leaves the world in desolation’s flame.
When all are masters, who remains to serve?When all have treasure, who will wealth preserve?
No man of faith has ever preached this lie;You hide your madness, yet it meets the eye.
You lead mankind toward the pit below,And count no evil act as sin or woe.”
Qobad heard every stern word that he spoke;And anger in the royal judgment woke.
The famed Kisra supported what was said;Fear filled Mazdak and bowed his guilty head.
The people all cried out with one intent:“Let no protection now to him be lent.
He has made havoc of the faith of God;Let him not linger where great kings have trod.”
The Shah renounced that faith; his heart grew soreAt all that he himself had done before.
He gave Mazdak to Kisra, and consignedWith him all men to his new creed inclined.
Three thousand men of standing, rank, and nameWere handed over with their leader’s shame.
The king addressed his son: “Do what seems right;Let Mazdak’s name pass out of court and sight.”
Kisra possessed a garden by his court,A pleasure-ground designed for royal sport.
Its wall rose high above the hills nearby;Around its circuit he bade trenches lie.
Within those trenches, men were packed so tight,Their burial put an end to life and light.
Like trees he fixed them firmly in the ground,Feet raised, with heads beneath the earth fast bound.
Then he addressed Mazdak: “Come now and treadThe garden path to which your works have led.
The seed you scattered through these troubled yearsHas borne its fruit at last before your peers.
You shall see trees no human eye has viewed,Whose strange design no sage has yet construed.”
Mazdak went forward to the garden gate,Expecting fruit-trees in their ordered state.
He opened it and saw the dreadful sight;He cried aloud and lost both sense and might.
Kisra then ordered that a gallows rise,Its height made visible beneath the skies.
A twisted noose down from the summit swung;Head downward from the gallows Mazdak hung.
Then arrows fell upon that impious frame,Until they ended both his breath and name.
Let no man follow Mazdak’s crooked way;His road leads downward to a bitter day.
An aged Mobad told it otherwise,A man of worldly knowledge, learned and wise:
“Mazdak had sought the royal throne and ring,And claimed the crown belonging to the king.
The Shah had earth dug out to make his tomb;They cast him headfirst down to meet his doom.”
The chiefs felt safe again in home and field,Their wives and children sheltered by the shield.
Qobad for many days remained ashamed,And cursed Mazdak, whose dark deceit he blamed.
He gave the poor rich largess from his hoard,And to the fire-temple his gifts he poured.
The Shah rejoiced in Kisra: from his stemA branch had sprung that fruited gem on gem.
From then he sought his counsel in each deed,And listened to his words with earnest heed.
D13.3
Anooshirvan’s Decree of Justice
👑🗺️4️⃣📍🧑🌾🌱🏡📏💰⚖️🧮📜3️⃣📚🏦👴👀👥🛡️🐺🐑👑✍️📜🙏🗣️💰🚫🧑🌾🥖🤲⚖️🏆33 emoji · the whole poem in emoji →
The Shah divides the empire into four regions, then replaces the old share of the harvest with a land tax assessed by survey and paid in three installments, with relief for ruined crops and exemptions. Three ledgers record it. His decree to the collectors is read out.
104 couplets · Anooshirvan named 2 times · in the full poem
The king of kings called wise men to his side,And ordered worldly matters far and wide.
He parted all the peopled earth in four,And gave each region rulers, laws, and store.
First Khorasan engaged his careful thought;By that decree the nobles’ joy was wrought.
The second part held Qum, Isfahan’s seat,Where chiefs and nobles made their councils meet.
Azar Abadagan was in that share,Which noble men divided with due care.
The wary Shah joined Ardabil to these,Armenia, and Gilan by the seas.
The third stretched east to west through Pars’s bounds,Ahvaz, and Khazar marches’ outer grounds.
The fourth was Iraq and the Roman land,A populous realm beneath his ordered hand.
Within these marches, to the poor who earnedTheir bread by toil, the Shah’s compassion turned.
He opened up the treasures he had stored,And all folk blessed the justice of their lord.
Of former Shahs, the greater and the small,Each took a portion of the crops from all.
No man escaped the burden of that tax;The royal share had fallen on their backs.
A third or fourth was once the crown’s demand,Until Qobad took one-tenth from the land.
He meant to ease that burden further still,And raise the lowly nearer to his will.
He strove to lift the poor beside the lord,But Fortune would not grant him time’s reward.
Trust not the fierce nahang within the stream;Such worldly hopes dissolve like a brief dream.
When Kisra took the throne, he set the rateBy land assessment, ending tithes of state.
The sages, chiefs, and Mobadan drew round,With shrewd provincial rulers on the ground.
They stretched the survey cords across the land,And set a one-dirham assessed demand.
That levy was so modest in its claimThe owners did not suffer hurt or shame.
Those lacking seed or beasts received due aidFrom royal treasure till their crops were made.
All fallow land was left outside account;Old customary levies ceased to count.
On fruitful vineyards six dirhams were laid,Assessed as tax, by settled measure paid.
Date-palm plantations paid the same by law;The scribes set down each levy that they saw.
From olive, walnut, other trees that boreAt Mehrgan, tax was paid into the store.
One dirham out of every ten was due;No further levy came the whole year through.
The fruits that ripened in Khordad’s fair daysWere held exempt beneath the royal gaze.
From men of means who owned no field or grain,The yearly due was fixed and rendered plain.
From four to ten dirhams might be their due,None was crushed by the sums collectors drew.
The yearly sum in three installments lay;Each fourth month brought a third for them to pay.
The scribes and servants of the royal stateWere not included in this levy’s rate.
The Shah had every toll and impost named,By Mobadan recorded, checked, and framed.
Three ledgers held the whole of the account,So ministers could know the full amount.
One ledger went into the treasury chest,To make the treasurer answer every test.
A second went through all the realm’s domain,To men of power who kept the coin and grain.
The third was handed to the Mobad band,To keep account of tribute in the land.
He scattered watchers over every place,To bring him word of good and evil’s trace.
He filled the earth’s broad face with rule and peace,And made the fallow fields their fruit release.
His people all lay safe on plain and hill,While wolf and sheep drank on, and feared no ill.
He bade them write in Pahlavi that day,A worthy message, which I now relay.
On Bahram day, in Khordad, it was penned,The royal word his servants would attend.
It opened, “From Anooshirvan, king of kings,The worshipper of God, from whom grace springs,
A fruiting branch from King Qobad’s old tree,Who wears the crown of royal majesty,
To stewards who collect the revenue,And serve our throne’s wide shadow, tried and true,
Wholehearted greetings from our throne we sendTo those in whom both worth and lineage blend.
Here at the outset of our work, we raiseFirst to the Maker of the world our praise.
Know this: the man is wise and shrewd of heartWhose praise of God becomes his foremost art.
He knows that God has never needed us,And hidden things are clear before Him thus.
When He would raise a mortal by His hand,He frees him first from need at His command.
He bade me judge, though judgment is His own,Beyond all height and measure ever known.
Before Him king and subject stand as one;Through faithful service, worthy deeds are done.
From earth’s abyss to heaven’s highest frame,From sun to dust, all testify His name.
The ant’s foot bears its witness that He is;We are His servants, and the kingdom His.
His every order sent to us is right;The Div brings lies and loss and moral night.
If my allotted share of earth had beenA garden, grove, and palace walled within,
My heart had still inclined to love and good,And faced all people as a just man should.
But now the Holy God, from east to west,Has placed the whole world under my behest.
From sunlit height to dark and troubled dust,He gave me sovereignty as sacred trust.
I must uphold both love and justice still,Though care should furrow brow and burden will.
If shepherds are careless and fields are wide,No sheep escape the wolf on any side.
As for our subjects, those who work the land,And those who at the sacred fires stand,
Whether on dusty roads or ships at sea,By night or day, wherever they may be,
Or merchants, whether ships or roads they ply,With coins, bright pearls, and musk beneath the sky,
The sun must never shine from heaven aboveUpon them save through justice and through love.
It was the custom of our ancient raceThat sons should hold their fathers’ crown and place.
Then justice reigned, and goodness walked abroad;No deed was cloaked in darkness or in fraud.
We levy tax on every field and tree,To feed the crown by measured, just decree.
When this decree is brought to you, may graceFrom Ormozd make your Fortune hold its place.
Who takes one dirham past the measured rate,And wrongs a subject of my royal state,
I swear by God, who crowned me, this shall be:No shield shall keep that guilty servant free.
His guilty body I shall saw right through;God’s chastisement will fall as evil’s due.
Observe this letter and its clear command,And keep the sacred Way with heart and hand.
Demand with justice, tempered by restraint,Each four-month share, without grief or complaint.
But where the locusts ravaged field and grain,Or sunbeams struck the earth with parching pain,
Or snow and wind descending from the skyHave harmed the crops on which the farms rely,
Or if New Year has brought no rain to blessThe joyful crops, now vexed by drought’s distress,
Demand no tax where stricken fields remainSun-cracked and parched, and bare of standing grain.
Repay the seed and laborers’ full hireFrom royal wealth, as justice may require.
When land’s own master dies and leaves no heir,Let not the fields fall barren for lack of care.
Else those who wish me ill will bring me shame,And point to ruined lands to stain my name.
Give what is needed from the royal store,For God has set me far from wanting more.
If lands within my power come to harm,What use is then my sheltering wing and arm?
Whoever bears the burden of command,Yet shirks the task entrusted to his hand,
Whether great lord or servant placed below,Shall hang where all his faults are plain to show.
The Shahs of former days had different ways;Their chiefs held power over blame and praise.
They never ceased from gathering their gold;My wealth is justice, wealth no thief can hold.
The people of the realm sustain my reign;I set no heart on hoarded gold and gain.
Your charge: uphold the world through what is right,And keep the honor of good birth in sight.
The chief of ranks who barters men for payShall never cross my court, nor near me stay.
When my shrewd stewards at the court appear,Before the Mobadan their counts to clear,
If falsehood shows itself in any speech,No grace of ours again shall be in reach.
I do not love the tyrant’s cruel face;The leopard and oppressor share one place.
All those who follow God’s appointed way,And bathe dark souls in wisdom’s cleansing ray,
Shall have a lofty station at our court,And Mobadan shall praise them in report.
For every righteous seed they choose to sow,God grants them Paradise, where blessings glow.
We are ourselves exempt from need of wealth,Which curses and diminishes the soul’s health.
Who feeds upon the poor man’s flesh for gainShall find his food turned bitterness and pain.
Better a leopard than a king so base,With neither shame nor faith before his face.
The road of right lies open to the eye;Why knock at folly’s door, where spirits die?
To do ill secretly, yet justice showSo public praise may through the kingdom flow,
Will never win God’s favor or our own,Nor be esteemed before our royal throne.
But God and we approve the one whose careMakes love and justice one in all they share.”
So ran the royal letter, sealed and sent;Through all the realm Anooshirvan’s order went.
The world will praise forever such a king,Whose righteous rule made all the kingdom spring.
D13.13
Anooshirvan Defeats Caesar’s Army
👑🪖🏇⚔️🏛️🪖💥👥🏃🏰🏹🧱💥⛓️🐘👥😨⚔️🏆🏙️🌳🌷💧👑😍25 emoji · the whole poem in emoji →
A Roman army under Farfuriyus is routed. The Shah levels the citadel of Kaliniyus but forbids his men to plunder it, then pardons its people, and after three days’ grace takes Antakiya in three battles. He admires the city’s gardens and sends its captives to Madain.
68 couplets · Anooshirvan named 1 time · in the full poem
Departing then, the Shah resumed his way,And left Rum’s Adornment behind that day.
A rider told him, “Caesar’s force draws near;Its vanguard soon before us will appear.”
When news arrived of jowshans, spears ahead,The Shah arrayed his troops where banners spread.
He ordered all his troops to take their stand,Prepared for war beneath his stern command.
They marched as though an iron mountain rolled;Their cries and karnays made the heavens cold.
A scout came riding to the royal place,And brought the Shah his tidings face to face.
He said, “Great Caesar has dispatched a trainOf chiefs and warriors armed to cross the plain.
A mighty Roman leads their battle line:Farfuriyus, proud in war’s design.
With loud karnays and tabiras that thrum,He leads fierce wolves who scent the war to come.”
While thus he spoke before the watchful king,Rum’s dust-clouds rose as if on eagle’s wing.
The Shah smiled back and answered to the man,“We knew of this and long have shaped our plan.
Our army stands prepared, its courage steeled;Long has this purpose in our hearts been sealed.”
Then foam came to his lips; he gave commandThat all the army should in order stand.
So line with line confronted on the ground,And dust-choked air could find no passage round.
A glorious gathering filled the battlefield,Proud chiefs and men with scimitars to wield.
All loins were girded tightly for the fight;The great, the wise, the royal seed of might.
Their swords were tempered in the blood of foes,And keen enough to cleave the clouds that rose.
The foe had no more respite in that placeThan hunted prey when leopards spring in chase.
The Roman dead lay heaped across the plain;The wounded soldiers left the fight in pain.
Farfuriyus, now wounded, fled the fray;Flag shredded, tabiras upturned that day.
Iranian horsemen chased them at full pace,Like leopards hunting wild sheep in the chase.
They swept Rum’s legions from the field in rout;Then Anooshirvan led his army out.
With gorz and sword in hand, his soldiers came,And marched across the plain in warlike flame.
He led them till another stronghold rose,A citadel prepared to meet its foes.
Its name was Kaliniyus; its wall rose highAbove the eagle’s passage through the sky.
A full moat girded it on every side,And fair domains around it spread in pride.
There halls and gardens, groves, and mansions fairDisplayed Rum’s wealth and splendor everywhere.
A Roman garrison held every tower,With seasoned men prepared to prove their power.
The Shah pitched camp two farsangs from the site;The army’s dust turned all the air to night.
From Kaliniyus rose a battle-cry,A roar that drowned the tymbals in the sky.
The Shah surveyed the city’s walls of stone;The troops about it had in number grown.
The gates became the scene of fierce attack;With shafts and fire-pots they drove men back.
When evening paled and half the sky grew dark,No wall stood whole beneath the battle’s mark.
The city all lay level with the ground;Then from the Shah’s own gate there came a sound.
A proclamation through the army ran:“Withdraw from Kaliniyus, every man.
Come from the city; take the open plain,And there through darkness let the troops remain.
If cries from women or from elders rise,Or pillage, strife, or riot reach the skies,
If one complaint should reach me of such sin,With straw my men shall stuff the culprit’s skin.”
When morning raised its hand through Cancer’s sign,And banished sleep with rays of light divine,
The tymbals sounded at the royal gate;The foremost chiefs came forth in ordered state.
Then from that hold, its women and its menAssembled at the Shah’s great gate again.
They said, “No mounted warrior now is near;No noble of the town can now appear.
Though guiltless, all lie slain or wounded here;Now let the Shah’s compassion conquer fear.
God’s justice cannot count such bondage right:Young, old, and babes and women share this plight.
The citadel and city’s walls are gone;Hereafter only thorn-brakes will live on.
Since Caesar was the one who fanned this flame,Why should Kaliniyus’ folk bear the blame?”
The Shah gave pardon to those Roman folk;Both guilty and guiltless escaped the stroke.
He left them means enough to live in health,Then marched away with arms and gathered wealth.
But those among the folk still fit to fightWere bound on elephants and sent from sight.
Then news reached Antakiya’s guarded wall:“The Shah advances; hear his battle-call.”
Within that city massed a countless throng,Rum’s legions armed for battle, keen and strong.
The Shah allowed them three days’ respite still,That war might spare the innocent from ill.
But on the fourth his army, mountain-like,Drew up Iran’s warriors in ranks to strike.
To guard their women, children, wealth, and name,Rum’s bold horsemen advanced in battle flame.
Three mighty battles filled two bitter days;The third dawn broke beneath the sun’s bright blaze.
Across that prosperous region, far and wide,No Roman horseman found a place to hide.
No Roman horseman held the field that day;Iran’s troops seized the city in array.
So dense the soldiers stood in that estate,There was no room to stand inside the gate.
The men of rank who wore the crown’s bright sign,With Caesar’s treasurers, formed a suppliant line.
They gave their treasures to Iran’s great king,The wealth that Roman coffers forth could bring.
Iranians bound the warriors of that land,On elephants they set them by command.
The Shah sent off the captives, bound in chain,To Madain, with the spoil of Roman pain.
He then went round the city and beheldA countryside where moonlike splendors welled.
The gardens, groves, and waters made age new,Restoring youth and freshness to the view.
The king addressed his nobles in delight:“Is this young spring, or Antakiya’s sight?
Whoever has not seen glad Paradise—Its musk-rich soil and gold bricks beyond price;
Its trees are rubies, rosewater its streams;Its earth is heaven; its sky with sunlight gleams—
Should look upon this land, where blessings flow;May all the lands of Rum in plenty grow.”
D13.16
The Birth of Anooshirvan’s Son Nushzad
👑👸✝️❤️👶👨👦📖✝️💧🙏👑😢🚫📖🏰⛓️👦👑🤒🛌📨🎭💀❓👦😄26 emoji · the whole poem in emoji →
The Shah’s Christian wife bears a son, Nushzad, raised in luxury, who takes his mother’s faith and is baptized. His father shuts him up at Gund-e-Shapur. When the Shah falls ill on his return from Rum, a rumor of his death reaches Nushzad, who rejoices.
35 couplets · Anooshirvan named 1 time · in the full poem
Anooshirvan shone, the world’s hope and dread,A king who wore the sun upon his head.
As heaven’s sun speeds onward in its course,He bore both sword and mercy with like force:
Relentless in the hour of wrath and flame,Yet full of mercy when compassion came.
So was this Shah of noble royal line,Whose justice made the world around him shine.
Know this: the monarch in his royal state,Like every subject, must possess a mate.
Each needs both food and clothing, and with theseA private place for comfort, rest, and ease.
If then the wife is pious and discreet,She proves a treasure, rich and full and sweet.
Still more if she stands tall, with flowing hairWhose scent of musk perfumes the very air:
Wise, learned, well counseled, chaste in every part,With gentle speech that shows a gracious heart.
The noble Shah possessed a wife like this,A cypress in her height, a moon in bliss.
That moon-faced woman worshipped at Christ’s shrine;All tongues extolled her beauty as divine.
She bore a child whose face outshone the sky,More bright than Venus to the gazing eye.
The child was called Nushzad, so gently bredNo harsh wind stirred the hair upon his head.
He grew like cypress, straight and tall and grand,A gifted youth, the glory of the land.
He knew of Hell and Paradise’s road,Of Christ, of Esdras, and what Zardosht showed.
The Zand-Avesta failed to win his trust;He turned to Christ, whose faith he held as just.
Baptism washed his face; he turned asideTo take his mother’s faith to be his guide.
He left his father’s faith, and men would viewHis choice with wonder all that era through.
The king grew troubled, grieving and forlorn:His rose had yielded nothing but a thorn.
They sealed the portals of his palace fair,And made a prison of that dwelling rare.
His prison-house at Gund-e-Shapur lay,From Iran and from Bakhtar far away.
Many condemned and captive men were thenConfined with him inside that guarded pen.
Now when the Shah returned from Rum’s campaign,The march and turmoil pressed him hard with pain.
So weak he grew that court could not be held,And illness through the royal body swelled.
One bore the tidings to Nushzad and said,“The empire’s grace has fled; the Shah is dead.”
His father’s death brought joy to Nushzad’s heart;May every joy from such a man depart!
Who smiles when just kings pass from mortal sightMust bear a gloomy spirit void of light.
A famous sage once gave this sharp reply:“If my death brings you joy, then never die.”
From death no mortal refuge can be won;Sooner or later, life for all is done.
Yet death can never wreck the righteous soulWhose labors seek God’s favor as their goal.
That son is both a reprobate and foolWho will not walk beneath his father’s rule.
The colocynth, whether wet or dry,Will never breathe musk fragrance to the sky.
Why should the gardener expect the seedTo change the nature fixed within its breed?
If any plant inclines toward earth below,It turns from sunlight and pure water’s flow.
The plant bears neither fruit nor leafy growth;It owes the earth its life and dying both.
D13.20
Bozorgmehr’s Seven Feasts
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0 couplets · Anooshirvan named 10 times · in the full poem
E1.12
Anooshirvan’s Just Rule
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The Shah returns to his throne and the world becomes a garden: thieves leave silver lying in the road, and trade flows in from Chin, Hind and Rum. Each dawn a herald proclaims his law — debts paid from the treasury, adultery, trespass and concealment punished.
39 couplets · in the full poem
The Shah returned and sat upon his throne;Good fortune made his royal cause her own.
The world, through justice, wore a garden’s face,Adorned with wealth, good order, rest, and grace.
Strife, bloodshed, and injustice passed away,And grace divine renewed the world’s bright day.
Evil itself seemed shackled to the ground;No raid or plunder anywhere was found.
None stretched a hand toward wickedness or prey;All came from darkness to the righteous way.
If bright silver fell upon the public road,A thief would pass and fear to touch that load.
Brocade and gold lay out beneath the sky;No thief would dare to take them, passing by.
The Shah’s just rule transformed the earth to seemA Paradise, where wealth flowed like a stream.
Each valley, desert, province, open plainWas filled with treasure underneath his reign.
Dispatches went to every province wide,To every lord and man of name and pride.
From Turkistan, from Chin and Saklab cameGreat wares that magnified Iran’s fair fame.
Musk-bags, Chin silk, and Roman wares arrived,With goods from Hind, while every market thrived.
Iran became like Paradise in mirth;Its dust was musk, its bricks like gold on earth.
The world found rest; its misery withdrew,And happiness across the kingdom grew.
The breezes seemed to scatter fragrant spray;Men found relief from pain and fear each day.
Rain touched the rose in season from the sky,No violent downpour harmed the fields nearby.
The world grew full of herbage, flocks, and flowers,With blooming plains and valleys rich in bowers.
All streams seemed seas; the gardens shone with rose,Clustered like Pleiades where soft wind blows.
Men learned new tongues within Iran’s domain,And lit their souls with knowledge free from stain.
They thanked the Shah, their guide, and blessed his name;From every border wealthy traders came.
From Turkistan and Chin, from Hind and Rum,They came; each homestead’s herds outgrew their room.
All learned men and ready speakers foundA place where honor spread their fame around.
The great, the learned, and the priests won fame;The wicked trembled when stern judgment came.
Whenever sunrise dressed the world in flame,The royal herald spoke in justice’s name:
“O servants of the monarch of the earth,Hide no wrong deed, whatever rank or birth.
Whoever labors faithfully shall earnThe fitting treasure given in return.
Bring every claim before our chamberlain;Through him our hand will ease all toil and pain.
If any creditor should press the poor,Our treasurer shall pay; their peace is sure.
The destitute shall not be harmed by debt;Our law shall free them from the lender’s net.
If any man invades another’s bed,By lust and lawless wickedness misled,
While still the injured husband draws his breath,No pardon saves the culprit from his death;
His wealth and goods are seized without delay,And to the injured husband given away.
If any steed should graze on tilth or grain,And cause the grieving farmer loss or pain,
The horseman shall be stripped of mount and gear,To march on foot among the ranks severe.
The ruined harvest shall be paid in full,From what the soldier’s yearly wage would pull;
The registrar shall strike his pay away,And dock one half his earnings for the day.
His name is canceled from the army’s roll;They raze his home to purge the sinful soul.
No wicked servant shall find favor here,Where only righteous men in truth draw near;
Let none approach the threshold of the throneWho leaves the seeds of lawless injustice sown.”
E1.13
Bozorgmehr’s Counsel to Anooshirvan
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Bozorgmehr says he has left a scroll of counsel in the treasury: nothing outlives a king but good words and good deeds. A long catechism follows on the ten Divs of the soul, greed the strongest of them, wisdom as the soul’s jowshan, and on friends, grief and kingship.
232 couplets · Anooshirvan named 8 times · in the full poem
One day the Shah sat joyful in his state,With wisdom’s greatest men before his gate.
He smiled with open face and words of cheer,And seated Bozorgmehr beside him near.
The sage spoke praise; the king’s heart blossomed bright,Like springtime gardens waking into light.
He said, “Just judge, bright-faced and proven true,May no fault-finder find a fault in you.
Blessed king of kings, whose fortune does not wane,Wise world-master, triumphant in your reign,
I wrote in Pahlavi upon a scrollOf royal paper, counsel for the soul.
I gave your treasurer the words I penned,For you alone to read when duties end.
Yet heaven moves slowly with its hidden plan,And does not soon reveal its truth to man.
Suppose a man should leave the feast aside,And take his life in hand where armies ride;
Suppose he sweeps the earth of every foe,And breaks the snares that Ahriman may throw;
Suppose he rules the world, his will obeyed,Each wish fulfilled, his banners high displayed;
Suppose by bravery he wins the earth,And fills his courts and gardens with its worth;
Suppose he stores up wealth on every side,With sons around him, honor, joy, and pride;
Suppose he gathers warriors, gold, and grain,And builds bright halls for pleasure in his reign;
Suppose the poor toil hard beneath his hand,While treasure heaps up round him through the land;
Still, willing or unwilling, he gains dust;His lifetime is too brief for lasting trust.
His span will not complete a hundred years;Death ends the toil of all his hopes and fears.
His riches will belong to hostile hands;No crown, no throne, no army with him stands.
No child, no treasury, no palace wallWill follow when his final shadows fall.
When he has ceased to chase each empty prize,Who will recall his name beneath the skies?
Of all his acts when life has reached its close,A good name is the flower that still grows.
Two things endure within this passing frame;All else burns down to ash without a name:
Choice sayings and good deeds remain in trust,When palaces and bodies turn to dust.
These last until the world’s last day is done;Remember this, auspicious royal one.
Time cannot spoil good fame or honest speech,No sun or rain or wind can dim their reach.
The modest, virtuous man alone is blessed;Avoid the faults that shame the inward breast.
Do harm to none, but help where help is due;So faith and precedent prescribe to you.
I leave behind these words for later need,Words that will never lose their living seed.”
He opened wide the king’s discerning heart;The Shah then questioned him on wisdom’s art.
“Who is the glorious man whose heart is glad,Who does not sigh, nor live in spirit sad?”
The sage replied, “The innocent alone,Whose heart the Div has never made his own.
The man who has not crossed the righteous lineCan keep his heart at peace with law divine.”
The Shah asked next about the Div’s dark road,And God’s true way, where wisdom finds abode.
Bozorgmehr answered, “Follow God’s command;In both worlds it will help you firmly stand.
Farr comes from Him; the doorway into illLeads toward the foe of those who serve God’s will.
The high-souled man is blessed throughout the earth,For modest holiness adorns his worth.
Since knowledge guards him, life gives him release;He dwells in righteousness and inward peace.
He knocks not at the door of guile or loss,Nor lets corrupt desire his spirit cross.
The body takes its share of what we gain;The soul shines bright beyond this mortal reign.
Yet he neglects neither body nor soul,But keeps both blade and scabbard sound and whole.
Let wisdom govern every wish and deed;Then give the soul the knowledge it will need.
Give no ear to the man who vaunts his name;His boastful words will dim your spirit’s flame.
Who fears not God will let desire be fed,While wisdom starves and withers in its stead.
His soul needs knowledge, yet he will not hearThe wise instruction that would make it clear.”
Anooshirvan then asked, “Among the great,Who reaches highest rank in human state?”
Bozorgmehr said, “The one with deepest lore,Who rules desire and asks for nothing more.”
The Shah said, “Who is truly learned and wise,Since knowledge hides unseen from outward eyes?”
“He who does not, at the Div’s command,Sever his heart from God’s sustaining hand;
Nor, through vain appetite, obey that foeWho traps the soul and brings the wise man low.
Ten Ahrimans possess a lion’s might,And overpower wisdom in the fight.”
The Shah said, “Name these Divs and make them plain,Since wisdom has good cause to mourn their reign.”
He answered: “Greed and Need hold foremost sway,Two ravenous Divs that lead the soul astray;
Then Wrath and Envy, Shame and Vengeance fed,And Slander whispering what malice bred;
Then Duplicity and Heresy combine,With base Ingratitude to Grace Divine.”
The Shah asked, “Which is strongest of them all,And has most power to hold a soul in thrall?”
He answered, “Greed, the tyrant of the soul,Whose lasting power keeps men in its control.
You will not see him satisfied by gain;He labors always after more with pain.
Then Need comes next, pale-faced and full of care,Whose sleepless hunger drives men to despair;
Then Envy wakes, a sickness cold and drear,That stirs up bloodshed, discord, strife, and fear.
His soul is pained when others prosper well;Their joy becomes to him a private hell.
Shame is another Div, inflamed and quick,Forever ready for some violent trick.
Revenge is wrathful, turbulent, and near,Swift to awaken battle-cries and fear.
It makes men loveless, harsh, and grim of face,Malignant, miserly, and void of grace.
Another, Slander, knows no trade but lies,And never lets a truthful word arise.
Then Double-dealing, two-faced, false in mind,Fears not the God who masters humankind.
It casts revenge and strife between two friends,And labors till the bond between them ends.
The last is thankless Ignorance in thought,A witless Div whom no good lesson taught.
He scorns sound counsel, modesty, and right;To him both good and evil share one light.”
The king then asked, “How does the Div assailThe heart? What help from God will then prevail
For servants, so that they may counteractThe Div’s assault, its pressure, and its pact?”
That man of faith replied, “O Shah, take heed;Against the Divs, let wisdom guide each deed.
It is the jowshan that can check their blade,The guarded fortress where the heart finds aid.
It lights the sage’s heart and active mind,Records the past, and leaves no truth behind.
It nourishes the soul with truths made plain;May wisdom firmly guard your crown and reign.
The road before you stretches hard and long;Make wisdom second nature, firm and strong.
Then, fearless of the Div, the heart will stayIn wholesome joy and shun desire’s way.
Now I will speak of hope, the heart’s true guide,That brings it joy and casts all fear aside.
The sage is always hopeful in his time,And sees in fortune happiness sublime.
He does not brood on evil for an hour,Nor bend like bows beneath misfortune’s power.
The contented man will never stretch his handToward treasure, nor exhaust himself for land.
Who scorns mere coin and treasure finds release,And passes all his numbered days in peace.
Who gives himself entirely to God’s lawNo wealth nor hardship from that faith can draw.
He fears no man enough to bend from right;No hidden evil clouds his inward sight.
By this same sign he proves his virtue clear:He trades not faith for profit drawing near.”
Said Anooshirvan, “Which is the royal wayThat leads us toward the good from day to day?”
He answered, “Wisdom’s road, beyond dispute,Surpasses every branch, and root, and fruit.
A kindly disposition also givesA man true honor every day he lives.
Of all good traits, the strongest, I declare,Is being content with one’s appointed share.
The sweetest comfort in our toil and careIs hope, which guards the heart against despair.
Of all these things, I find toil hardest borne:Its endless striving leaves a person worn.”
The Shah asked, “How may men achieve true worth?”“By shunning baseness, true to noble birth,
And seeking good in both worlds till the end,With deeds that neither shame nor harm attend.”
“What sage is best?” the king went on to ask.“One mild of voice, whose kindness wears no mask.
He seeks no greatness save through wisdom’s art,Which far exceeds mere skill within the heart.”
The Shah said, “Which accomplishment is best,By which aspirants rise above the rest?”
He answered, “Knowledge, for the sage is greatAmong the great and stands above estate.
He does not clutch at treasure as his aim,Nor bind himself to toil for hollow fame.”
The Shah asked, “Who is our most harmful foe,And seeks to lay our strength and wisdom low?”
He answered, “Evil deeds assail the soul,And rob both mind and wisdom of control.”
The righteous judge then asked, “Which has more worth:Acquired learning, or the gifts of birth?”
The sage replied, “Let learning be your guide;Its worth exceeds what birth alone supplied.
By learning is the soul adorned and wise;A claim of noble birth is swift to rise.
Without sound learning, noble birth is weak;A healthy soul needs more than words men speak.”
“How may the mind be polished, cleansed, and bright?What gifts adorn the body in men’s sight?”
He said, “Now hear my answer to the end;Recall these words, and let your mind attend.
Since wisdom is itself God’s robe of grace,No evil thought can touch its guarded place.
So one accomplished, yet conceited still,Deserves no credit for his practiced skill.
No wise man scorns the modest and the kind;Their gentle deeds reveal a worthy mind.
Though sages join high birth with generous hand,With knowledge, conduct, justice, firm command,
Their greatness, rank, and uprightness will fallIf vicious nature rules beneath them all.”
The Shah inquired, “O learned man, declare:Does greatness come from toil or Fortune’s care?
Does any king gain crown and throne by deed,Or does good fortune grant the royal seed?”
He answered, “Toil and Fortune both combine,Like mates whose joined strength makes a ruler shine.
They join like soul and body, one revealed,The other living inward and concealed.
The body is man’s instrument for toil,When wakeful fortune rises from the soil.
Yet travail cannot make a great man riseUnless good fortune guides him toward the skies.
The world is wind and dreams that will not stay;Its passing visions fade and fall away.
When one awakes, the dream is soon withdrawn,Whether it brought delight or grief at dawn.”
A question stirred within the royal breast;The Shah asked, “Whom do people praise the best?”
He answered, “He who ornaments the throne,Whose strength from fortune is securely known,
If he acts justly and earns good report,His deeds and words will prosper in the court.”
The Shah said, “Who is sorrowful and poor,Luckless, his labor fruitless, insecure?”
The sage replied, “The beggar steeped in viceWill lose both earth and hope of Paradise.”
“Who is the luckless one,” the king inquired,“For whom our tears and pity are required?”
Bozorgmehr answered, “Learned men brought low,Whose pallor tells the weight of grief they know.”
The Shah asked further, “Who is satisfied?Who has no further wish to be supplied?”
He answered, “He who does not fix his eyeOn revolutions of the turning sky.”
Then Anooshirvan asked, “What man is best?”“The gentle man,” he said, “is truly blessed.”
“But who is gentle? Why,” the Shah pursued,“Do hasty men make hearts lament and brood?”
He answered, “One who shuns reproach and blame,And bars the strife that sets men’s hearts aflame.
That man has modesty and gentle grace,With wisdom, patience, counsel in their place.”
The famed king asked him, “Who has greatest hopeAmong mankind, and strongest will to cope?”
“The most industrious,” the sage replied,“Whose ears to knowledge stand forever wide.”
The Shah asked, “What of things beyond our sight,Of hidden knowledge, veiled from common light?”
He said, “Much news is told of things unknown;Yet nothing certain in such talk is shown.
They say that dust must be our final bed;Who knows the other world that lies ahead?”
Then Anooshirvan asked, “What makes lands stand?What gives firm strength to throne and borderland?”
He answered, “Justice, wisely fortified,Establishes a land in peace and pride.”
Then Anooshirvan asked, “Now tell me plain:Who is most prudent, subtle in his brain?
Who wins approval everywhere he goes,As skill through passing years more brightly shows?”
He answered, “An old sage with patient eye,Made wise by all the years that have passed by.”
Said Anooshirvan, “Who is the happy man,Who lives upright and glad through all his span?”
He answered, “One who lives with little fear,And has sufficient wealth from year to year.”
The Shah asked, “Who most merits worthy praise,And wins approval through his acts and ways?”
He answered, “He who hides his need, and curbsThe baleful passions that the soul disturbs:
Shame, envy, greed, revenge; each inward foe;Who conquers them wins honor high and low.”
The Shah asked, “Who can best endure distress,And meet adversity with steadfastness?”
He said, “The man whose hopes have taken flight,Yet whose face shines as though with sunlight bright;
Or else the man with little time to live,Who still begins vast tasks with all to give.”
The Shah said, “Who has grief so deeply castThat life itself seems too much care to last?”
He said, “The man whose fortune falls away,Whose hopes desert him in that bitter day.”
The exalted king asked, “Whose heart is sore,And set in sorrow at its inward core?”
The sage replied, “The man who is not wise,And wealthy childless men beneath the skies.”
“Whose heart,” the Shah asked, “bends beneath distress,Through trouble, grief, and harsh calamity’s press?”
He answered, “Upright men of knowledge yieldWhen foolish rulers dominate the field.”
The Shah said, “Who is fullest of despair,Though power and high repute are his to bear?”
He said, “The man whose great designs go wrong,Though he has wealth and means, and stands so strong.”
Shah Anooshirvan asked, “Foresighted guide,Who lives without renown, set far aside,
Yet still deserves the wise man’s love and grace,And pardon freely granted in each place?”
He answered, “One whose many faults are grave,A helpless man, to want and need a slave.”
The Shah asked, “Who regrets the days gone by,When death draws near and he must surely die?”
He said, “The great king on his dying day,When death’s black cap descends and seals his way,
Repents with terror-stricken heart and mindOf thankless years toward God he leaves behind.
And one who labored over distant landsFor thankless men who scorned his faithful hands.”
The Shah said, “Sage in whom all gifts combine,Do you know anything of worth divine
That profits heart and body while it staysBeloved by all throughout their living days?”
He answered, “Health; the heart in health will chooseIts share of joy and dread that health to lose.
But when life fails through sickness and through pain,The body’s one desire is health to gain.”
The Shah asked, “Once the wish for health is met,What further longing does the heart beget?”
He said, “When men stand high and free from need,The heart’s desires give rise to thought and deed.
When health and means suffice, the heart is freeTo seek the pleasures it would wish to see.”
The Shah then asked his guide, “What is the heart’sChief care among its deepest inward parts?”
The sage replied, “There are three cares to nameFor one who asks about the heart’s true flame:
First, fear about the evil coming day,Lest sudden harm should come and bar his way;
Next, fear of treachery from a seeming friend,Who seeks one’s brain and blood before the end;
And third, fear of a great unjust king’s will,Who cannot judge the good apart from ill.
How happy is the man who has obtainedA prudent friend, by wisdom well sustained.
A thriving world and one great king made just;No greater gifts can heaven’s care entrust.”
The Shah next asked of faith and right, the meansThat banish fraud and falsehood from all scenes.
He answered, “Turn, O Shah, to those whose mindThrough life and death to God remains inclined.
Such men recoil from guile and Div-born sin,In awe of God, whose laws they live within.
They heed the Master of the world; their creedThey will not sell for profit or for greed.”
The Shah then asked concerning those who rule:“What virtues form the worthy monarch’s school?
Which king is worthy of the crown and throne,And fit by right to make the realm his own?”
He answered, “One both just and truly wise,With counsel, modesty, and watchful eyes.”
The Shah then asked about old friends, the kindWho share our speech and ear, one heart, one mind.
He answered, “Noble hearts give friends their due,Both generous and just in all they do.
They wish no friend distress for others’ sake,But share the burden when his fortunes break.”
The Shah asked, “Who has friends whose love runs deep,As close as blood and skin, a bond they keep?”
He said, “The man whose friends will not depart,Unless their faith should fail within the heart.
A kinder friend, whose deeds are better still,Will share his heart and serve with more goodwill.”
The Shah asked, “Whom do bitter foes beset,Who finds in every man a rival’s threat?”
Bozorgmehr replied, “The insolent and vainDraw curses on themselves and enemies gain.
And one whose speech is harsh, whose face is grim,Who closes hand and heart to those near him.”
Then said the Shah, “Who is the constant friend,Who weeps for severance when bonds must end?”
He said, “A friend who neither fades nor dies,Who neither fears nor yields when troubles rise.”
The Shah asked, “What endures and will not fade?”“The kindness that to worthy friends is paid.
Such kindness from a good friend will not part;Its goodness stays forever with his heart.”
“What has the brightest luster?” asked the king,“And crowns the heads of all, the noblest thing?”
He said, “The sage’s mind, which understandsAnd masters passion with commanding hands.”
The Shah said: “What is wider than the sky,And reaches higher than the heavens high?”
He answered: “First, a just king’s pardoning grace;Next, wisdom deep within the heart’s embrace.”
The Shah asked, “What brings grief beyond the restTo learned men, by wisdom greatly blessed?”
“O great king,” he replied, “do not bestowYour treasure where unholy tempers grow.
To deal with thankless hearts brings toil and pain,Like sun-dried bricks dissolved by falling rain.”
The Shah asked, “What is toil’s most bitter kind,Which drains the wealth a man has sought to find?”
Bozorgmehr replied, “The servant’s bitter partBeneath an evil king will break his heart.
The servant of a king of evil mindBy toil will leave life, wealth, and self behind.”
The Shah asked, “What great wonder have you known,The greatest marvel that the world has shown?”
Bozorgmehr answered, “The revolving skyIs always wonderful to every eye.
You see a mighty ruler, crowned and proud,Exalted even to the darkest cloud,
Yet he cannot discern his left from right,Nor tell his gain from loss by fortune’s light.
Another reads the high stars where they burn,And knows the causes by which heavens turn,
Yet heaven drives him to a narrow place,And evil fortune rules his earthly race.”
“What thing,” the Shah asked, “weighs the soul like lead?”He answered, “Sin, which crushes heart and head.”
The Shah inquired, “Of shameful words and deeds,What foulest act from evil nature breeds?
What greatest shame do all men join to scorn,And brand the deed with scars that must be worn?”
He answered, “Harshness in a king is shame,And persecution of those free from blame;
The rich man’s meanness over food and dress,A miser clutching all he can possess;
Shrill, shameless women; men who rage aloud;And poor men who are insolent and proud;
And falsehood, whether in a king or man,Is ugly, vile, and foul in every plan.”
The Shah asked, “What, as jowshan, can availThe wise, and light the soul when shields would fail?”
He said, “Who strives for good and shuns disgraceShall find no wound, but blessings in its place.
And thanks to God, which he will always pay,Mark the wise holy man upon his way.”
Said Anooshirvan, “What should kings pursue,And what should mighty men refuse to do?
What should we keep or cast aside as wrong?What should we grasp, or speak of, pondering long?”
He answered, “Keep firm mastery of your ire;No honor comes from wrath’s consuming fire.
Then guard your soul; do good while strength will last,And set aside your longing for the past.
Good deeds will make your soul shine clear and bright;Let them restore your spirit to the light.
Sin offers sweetness; yet its taste is vain:Shun sin, whose seeming pleasure ends in pain.”
Thanks to Yazdan who rules the moon and sun:The counsel of the king and sage is done.
This labor weighed upon me; I must ceaseFrom lengthy speech, and give the body peace.
E2.1
Chess Comes to Anooshirvan
👑🏛️👥🐘🐪👤🧭🎁💎♟️📜❓🧠👴👥🤔⏳7️⃣👴🧠♟️🐘🏇👑⚔️✅3️⃣🏆👤😮👑🎁💰33 emoji · the whole poem in emoji →
An envoy from the Raja of Hind brings elephants, parasols and a chessboard with a challenge: if Iran’s sages cannot work out the rules, Iran must pay tribute. The court fails. Bozorgmehr solves the game in a day and a night and demonstrates it before the envoy.
95 couplets · Anooshirvan named 2 times · in the full poem
Thus said the Mobad: On a royal day,The Shah adorned his throne with rich array.
His throne of polished ivory shone bright;Rum’s rich brocade lay gleaming in the light;
A golden, gem-decked crown hung overhead,Whose pearls and rubies fiery luster shed.
He moved the crown above that kingly seat,Until all splendor seemed in him complete.
The palace seemed all throne, the throne all king;The court, an army, formed a guarded ring.
The marzbans and Mobadan filled the hall,From Balkh and Bami, summoned one and all.
Then watchful men brought tidings to the throne,And made the coming of Hind’s envoy known:
“The envoy of the king of Hind has come,With costly gifts; a rich and princely sum.
He brings gold parasols of royal height,Great elephants and Sindhi horsemen bright.
A thousand camel-loads of gifts he brings;He seeks the presence of the king of kings.”
The watchful Shah, on hearing this report,Sent troops to welcome him before the court.
The envoy of that famed and powerful lordCame to the Shah, with homage in accord.
He bowed, as noble custom had decreed,And praised the Maker first in word and deed.
He gave the Shah rich gems from many lands,With elephants and earrings from his hands.
Those Indian parasols were bright with gold,With many jewels in their fabric rolled.
He opened bales within the royal place,And spread their contents out before his face.
Gold, silver, musk, and ambergris were shown,With fresh, sweet aloe-wood before the throne.
Bright rubies gleamed, and diamonds caught the light,And patterned blades from Hind shone keen and bright.
The Raja had amassed from every handThe goods of far Ghanooj and of Mai’s land.
Before the throne they laid the whole display;The sleepless prince surveyed the bright array.
Then to his treasury he sent the hoard,All that the Raja’s wealth had richly stored.
The envoy next brought forth the Raja’s scroll,On silk inscribed, a message rich and whole.
He brought a gift on which great wealth was spent:A chessboard fashioned as a challenge sent.
The man of Hind conveyed the Raja’s word:“May you endure while heaven’s wheels are stirred.
Command your learned men, with toil and care,To set this chessboard and its laws lay bare.
Let them apply their wits and closely scanHow this fine game is played, and learn its plan.
Let them discover how each piece is named,Its square and move, and how its force is framed.
Let them learn footman, elephant, and horse,The Rukh, the king, and the counselor’s course.
Let them discern each piece’s ordered way,And how each moves when battle joins the fray.
If they discover all this subtle game,And prove their wisdom worthy of its fame,
Then, as the Shah commands, I will conveyFull tribute to his court without delay.
But if the Iranian nobles cannot findThe secret rules this challenge keeps confined,
Then, since their knowledge has not matched our claim,Let them demand no tribute in your name.
Instead, let Iran’s tribute to us flow,For knowledge is the best thing man can know.”
Anooshirvan heard the message through,And weighed the challenge placed before his view.
They set the board and pieces near the king;He studied every emblem, rank, and thing.
Half of the set was ivory, clear and bright,The other teak, dark-hued against the light.
The Shah, whose fortune never slept, inquiredAbout the board and pieces he admired.
The envoy said, “O king, this whole displayIs war’s own emblem shaped in artful play.
When you have solved it, you will understandThe tactics, plan, and order of command.
The field of battle and its ranks appearWithin this board when wisdom’s eye is clear.”
The Shah replied, “One week of time I claim;Upon the eighth day we shall play the game.”
They lodged the envoy in a pleasant place,With honor fitting rank and royal grace.
The chiefs and Mobadan, grave men and shrewd,Came to the Shah to share his anxious mood.
Before them lay the chessboard, strange and bright;They studied it by day and into night.
They searched its form and tested every move,Yet found no scheme their reasoning could prove.
One spoke and questioned; one would ponder long,Yet none could say where all the men belong.
At last they left in gloom and inward shame,Unable to unlock that hidden game.
Then Bozorgmehr came to the troubled king,And saw his vexed heart under sorrow’s sting.
He saw, before he undertook the art,The task’s beginning and its hidden heart.
He said, “Great king, whose wisdom frames the law,Vigilant Shah who keeps the world in awe,
I shall discover all this clever game,With wisdom for my guide and fortune’s flame.”
The Shah replied, “This charge shall now be yours;May wisdom open all its hidden doors.
Else now the Raja of Ghanooj will say,‘The Shah had not one counselor that day.’
That would become a mighty public stainOn Mobadan, my court, and royal reign.”
Then Bozorgmehr took board and men in hand,And bent his mind their secret to command.
He tested left and right, and sought to traceEach movement and each piece’s proper place.
He found the game within one day and night,Then hastened to the Shah with inward light.
He said, “O Shah whose fortune wins the field,This board and pieces now their secrets yield.
I studied them and understand them all,Your fortune came in answer to my call.
Now call the Raja’s envoy; let him seeThe game unfolded as it ought to be.
The king of kings should see it first and say,‘A battlefield is shown in this array.’”
The king rejoiced and praised him as one blessed,By fortune favored more than all the rest.
He bade Mobadan, nobles, sages wiseAttend as chess unfolded to their eyes.
He called the Raja’s envoy to the hall,And seated him before the king and all.
Then eloquent Bozorgmehr spoke aloud:“Priest of the Raja, honored by this crowd,
What words did your sun-faced monarch sayWhen he entrusted these to you that day?
What charge did he entrust to you to bear?May wisdom be your friend in every care.”
The envoy said, “The Raja charged me soBefore I left his court, prepared to go:
‘Carry these pieces, ivory and teak,To him whose crown and throne of kingship speak.
Say: Gather counselors and Mobadan near,And set these pieces where they all appear.
If they discover how this game is played,And master every law its craft has laid,
We shall send gold and slaves and tribute then,As much as can be gathered from our men.
A king’s true worth springs more from what he knowsThan treasure, armies, or the wealth he shows.
But if the Shah and sages fail the test,And Hind’s assembled wisdom proves the best,
Let him demand no tribute from our hand,Nor seek our treasure from the Indian land.
Then let his court repent its fruitless toil,And send us greater wealth from Iran’s soil.’”
Then Bozorgmehr set board and men in line,Before the throne where sleepless fortunes shine.
He said to chiefs and Mobadan, “Be wise;Attend his words and judge where counsel lies.”
The sage transformed the board to warlike ground,The king at center, with his troops around.
He drew the forces up on left and right,With eager footmen foremost in the fight.
Beside the king, the counselor had place,To guide his thought when battle changed its face.
On either flank the elephants were set,As though for war the opposing armies met.
Beside them stood the chargers for the fray,With two wise riders placed in that array.
The warrior Rukhs stood mounted on each wing,And fought on right and left to guard the king.
He set the board, then challenged Hind’s own peer,And played three games before the court austere;
Three times they strove, three times the sage prevailed,While all the Indian envoy’s tactics failed.
The envoy out of Hind was vexed and stirred,Amazed by all he witnessed and had heard.
He marveled at that man of sleepless mind,That wizard-sage whose equal none could find.
“He never saw this chessboard or its play,Nor heard our Indian masters teach the way.
I never taught him how these pieces go;How did he learn the rules I did not show?
No other man could hold the post he bears,Or match the depth of judgment that he shares.”
Anooshirvan gave Bozorgmehr high praise,As though good Fortune crowned his sleepless days.
A robe of honor for the sage was made;And royal gems within a cup were laid.
A purse of dinars and a saddled steedHe gave, with praise for such a skillful deed.
E4.2
Anooshirvan and the Shoemaker
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Besieging Halab, the Shah runs short of money. Bozorgmehr advises borrowing locally, and a shoemaker lends the whole sum, asking only that his son be schooled as a scribe. Anooshirvan refuses the request and sends the silver back.
68 couplets · Anooshirvan named 1 time · in the full poem
When Caesar heard the Shah had left Iran,And wrath had stirred great Anooshirvan,
The Shah from Amuriyah to Halab came;The world grew loud with war’s resounding flame.
Three hundred thousand horsemen took the field,And Halab’s walls were ringed by spear and shield.
From every side the troops came on for strife,And war rose up with steel and hungry knife.
The Roman chiefs set engines on each wall,Prepared to fight and guard against its fall.
They cleared Sakila’s fortress for the fight,And launched their raids from there with all their might.
Halab became a sea of blood and cries,Where Roman hope fell dark before their eyes.
Batarun’s battered legions reeled in dread;And countless Romans lay among the dead.
Within two weeks, the troops before their kingBrought thirty thousand captives from the ring.
The Romans dug a trench to block the way,And flooded it to keep the Shah at bay.
They barred the Shah’s advance with ditch and flood;His army halted there in steel and blood.
A long time passed with neither side relieved;The troops required more funds than they received.
He called his battle-captains to his side,And weighed the field’s condition far and wide.
He said, “This brings us toil and loss; no wayAcross the flooded trench appears today.
The troops need coin, food, steeds, and jowshans too,And Roman helms, if we would see this through.”
The commissaries, scribes, and treasurers wentTo count the Shah’s supply and what was spent.
They found three hundred thousand dirhams moreWere needed than remained within the store.
A Mobad came like dust before the throne,And told the Shah what reckoning had shown.
The Shah’s face darkened, and he bade draw nearHis High Mobad, whose judgment he held dear:
“If all our treasury lies drained and bare,What use are throne and crown that I must wear?
Go call the camel-drivers; let them goadBactrian camels down the desert road.
From Mazandaran’s treasure-house conveyA hundred loads of coin without delay.”
The High Mobad, in wisdom deeply grown,Replied, “O loving Shah, by justice known,
Our treasure lies in Iran; it comes late,And troops stand needy; war will never wait.
In towns nearby are men with wealth to lend;One hundredth meets the sums we need to spend.
Seek loans from nobles and from merchants near;Their ready aid will soon remove our fear.”
The Shah agreed with what the wise man said,And by that counsel let the search be led;
The priest then chose an envoy rich in grace,Wise-hearted, cheerful, fair in speech and face.
He said, “Take three swift horses for the road,And find a man whose wealth can bear this load.
Choose from the merchants or the nobles oneWhose honored name is known beneath the sun.
Request a loan of money for the force;The Shah will pay it back in due course.”
That fair-tongued envoy, young but ripe in thought,Went to a neighboring town for what he sought.
He asked a loan for matters of the crown;The wealthy gathered, men of high renown.
A certain shoemaker who made and soldShoes listened closely to the tale he told.
He asked, “How much?” The envoy answered then,“O man of wealth and wisdom among men,
Three hundred thousand silver coins we need,To pay the troops and buy the battle-steed.”
The shoemaker said, “Gladly shall I lend;The treasurer may thank me in the end.”
He brought the scales and weights and weighed the whole;It needed no receipt, no written scroll.
Then said the shoemaker: “Commend my pleaBefore the High Mobad, that I may see
My dearest wish fulfilled, and from his graceA blessing fall upon my dwelling-place.
I have a son who stands in need of lore;His schooling is the favor I implore.
Perhaps the monarch of the world may showA private favor, letting kindness flow.
Let me place my boy where learned sages teach,That wisdom’s art may come within his reach.
He has the wealth and years to learn their art,And gain the knowledge they can all impart.”
The messenger replied, “With joy I will;Your generous loan has answered all our ill.”
The High Mobad approached the royal seat;The Shah rejoiced to hear the loan complete.
He said, “Thanks be to God upon His throne,Whose grace throughout my life I long have known.
Within our realm, a shoemaker can showSuch wealth and let his bounty freely flow.
May he who owns such silver never fearThe weight of royal power drawing near.
Discover what desire lies in his heart,So this goodwill from him may not depart.
A hundred thousand silver coins bestowBeyond his loan, that he our thanks may know.
May all our children prosper, rich and great,And rise to crowns and thrones of royal state.
May no ill-wisher see the throne decline;Through all the years may royal glory shine.”
Then spoke the High Mobad: “O monarch, hear:This shoemaker has made a plea sincere.
He said, ‘May wisdom guide the monarch’s mind;I have one son, mature and well-inclined.
He seeks a teacher’s hand and learned art,That skill may settle firmly in his heart.
If you will help him gain a scribe’s career,I shall pray for you through each coming year.
May this throne-worthy monarch ever live,And may God crown the justice he can give.’”
The Shah replied, “What Div has clouded sight,And led your judgment from the path of right?
Go, turn the camels back; I will not holdA claim upon his silver or his gold.
If merchants’ sons become both skilled and wise,And through the scribe’s profession come to rise,
When my son sits upon the throne one day,He will need a scribe to guide his way.
Must he then trust a shoemaker’s trained son,His eyes and ears, with all that must be done?
Then wise men born of noble stock will sigh,And watch their hopes of honored service die.
Discerning men will bow to him in shame,Men’s curses, when I die, will stain my name.
We will not take the money he supplied;Seek coin elsewhere, and put your grief aside.
Send back the camels with the silver store,And seek out shoemakers for loans no more.”
The envoy brought the silver back that day,And left the shoemaker in deep dismay.
E4.6
Anooshirvan’s Parting Counsel to Hormizd
👴👑💀⏳✍️📜👨👦👦👑🙏⚖️🧠🕊️🚫⚡🚫🎭🤝👴🤲💰👥🛡️🏛️🪑👑⚰️🌿🔒🚫👀👥😢⏳34 emoji · the whole poem in emoji →
Anooshirvan’s testament, written on silk: rule justly, use no deceit, take counsel, relieve the poor. He then dictates his own funeral — a sealed painted palace, his body embalmed, an ivory throne, two months of mourning. He lives one more year.
71 couplets · Anooshirvan named 2 times · in the full poem
The world is faithless, filled with grief and pain;No crown can grant its wearer lasting reign.
O aged man, repent before your end;Let wisdom guide you, let your spirit mend.
Long ages pass when earthly life is done;Where goes the soul when dust and flesh are one?
What did the aged chronicler declareOf Anooshirvan’s last counsel and his care?
When Hormizd’s answers had been fully heard,The High Mobad arose and spoke a word.
The counselors and scribes, at his command,Wrote down on silk the counsel for his land.
To young Hormizd the royal letter ran,With praise of God, the Judge of every man.
“Receive this counsel from Qobad’s own son;Write on your heart the words that now are spun.
Perhaps through these my living words may stay:This faithless world must fade and pass away.
It teems with toil and trouble, grief and woe;Its smiling face conceals the pain below.
When you rejoice in it, in gladness drowned,Know happiness has no abiding ground.
You too must leave this world of dust and pain;No throne can break the grave’s appointed chain.
As I resign the world to you by right,You must resign it too when comes your night.
By day and through the night’s deepening gloom,My thoughts dwell on the silence of the tomb.
I seek a head fit for the royal crown,A ruler fit for every field and town.
Four sons we have, the luster of our heart,Wise, just, and generous in every part.
Of these I make my choice, and choose the oneWho leads in years and wisdom: you, my son.
You are a wise man, ornament of state,Fit for the crown and for imperial fate.
Qobad, at eighty, chose me for the throne,And named me heir to all that was his own.
At seventy-four, I make my wishes plain:I choose you now to take the crown and reign.
I seek but peace, and hope that when I die,A blessing follows where my bones shall lie.
I hope almighty God will make you glad,And grant you fortune greater than you had.
If by your justice folk are kept secure,Your own repose will stand as firm and sure.
Through righteous dealing you will rest in peace,And by good works your heavenly joys increase.
For blessed is the man whose seed is good,And whose right labor ripens as it should.
Be patient; let restraint direct your ways;A patient king is worthy of our praise.
The prudent Shah, instructed, self-restrained,Will keep the honor that his wisdom gained.
Do not devise deceit or lies at all,Or Fortune’s face will darken toward your fall.
Keep haste far from your heart and from your brain;For wisdom flees when haste begins to reign.
Incline toward good in every turn of woe;Hear sages’ counsel whether high or low.
Let evil never lead your heart astray;It bears a bitter harvest in its day.
Let food and raiment both be pure and clean;Keep all your father’s counsel fresh and green.
Make God your refuge; turn your heart to Him,And seek His guidance when your star grows dim.
Rule justly, let the realm grow rich and great;Wealth fills your coffers, joy attends your state.
Reward men promptly when their deeds are right;Let not good toil grow old before your sight.
Make glad the men of worth and draw them near;And show the ill-disposed a face severe.
In all affairs take counsel with the wise;Let not the cares of kingship dim your eyes.
When sages have free access to your throne,Troops, treasure, crown, and Fortune stay your own.
Let no friend suffer poverty or need;Relieve his hardship through a generous deed.
Let potentates and nobles share your food,But trust no office to the unjust brood.
Give ear and heart to mendicants in woe,And make their sorrows yours, and let it show.
The king who gives his people justice dueWill share the joy his righteous deeds renew.
Do not withhold your wealth from men of worth,But show the virtuous bounty on the earth.
Yet if your enemy becomes your friend,Do not on salty soil your seed expend.
If you will heed the counsel I bestow,Your crown will flourish and your honor grow.
May He who grants good wishes favor you;May wisdom crown your throne in all you do.
May God preserve my counsel in your ear,Though I am hidden and no longer near.
May head and heart be flourishing and bright,Your person safe from foes and all their spite.
May wisdom be your watchman, never sleeping,And righteousness hold all your ways in keeping.
When I depart this wide and turning sphere,Perform the rites that I have ordered here.
A noble palace must be raised alone,Far from all roads and every dwelling known.
Where no swift-winged vulture wheels on high,Raise it toward the turning, vaulted sky.
Let it rise high, some ten kamands in span,And paint my court within, as best you can.
Show all the chiefs and warriors of renown;Preserve the memory of my court and crown.
Let tapestries of every kind hang fair,With color, scent, and perfume in the air.
Embalm my corpse with camphor, as is due,And set a crown of musk and amber too.
Bring five fine lengths of rich brocade, all new;Let none be worn before it comes to you.
Dress me in Kayanian royal mode,As Sasanian Shahs observed that code.
Prepare an ivory throne to bear my weight;Suspend the crown above in royal state.
Bring all my golden vessels to the hall,Both cups and censers; there arrange them all.
Set twenty filled with rosewater and wine,And saffron with its fragrance rich and fine.
Two hundred more with musk and camphor fill,And ambergris, according to my will.
Arrange them left and right in ordered rows;No more, no less, than this command bestows.
Anoint my head with camphor, clean and sweet,And bathe with rosewater from head to feet;
Let musk and precious ambergris be spread,To guard from taint the body of the dead.
Then bar the entrance, seal the chamber tight;Let no king open it to mortal sight.
Let none discover how to reach that hall,Or find a path that leads beyond its wall.
Let sons and noble kin, in mourning, shunAll feasts and pleasure till two months are done.
Such custom fits the death of kings, and stillThe good may weep upon this final will.
Remain beneath King Hormizd’s firm command;Obey his word when death has stilled my hand.”
All wept upon that testament with fear,And Anooshirvan lived one further year.
Family
- Parents
- Qobad, Qobad (Pirooz’s son)
- Spouses
- Anooshirvan’s Christian wife, The Khan of Chin’s daughter
- Children
- Hormizd (son of Anooshirvan), Nushzad
On the maps
Story maps that show Anooshirvan or tell a part of the story that names Anooshirvan.
D13.2–D13.3Anooshirvan’s Just Order
D13.6–D13.7Anooshirvan’s Wall: Fortifying the Northern Frontier
D13.11–D13.15Anooshirvan’s War with Rum and the Founding of Zib-e-Khosrow
D13.16–D13.19The Revolt of Nushzad at Gund-e-Shapur
E1.4–E1.11The End of the Hephthalites: the Partition at the Jihun
E2.1–E2.4The Traffic of Wisdom: Chess and the Kalila and Dimna from Hind
E4.1–E4.3Anooshirvan’s Last March on RumWhere he appears
Named mentions by book, from the Universe Registry, the index behind this site. Titles and epithets are not counted.
D6The Ashkanian Dynasty2D12Qobad and the Mazdakite Revolution1D13Anooshirvan and the Road to the End-time39E1The Story of Mahbud and Other Matters30E2Chess, Wisdom, and the Kalila and Dimna8E3Bozorgmehr’s Fall and Restoration18E4Anooshirvan’s Last Years8E5Hormizd, Son of Anooshirvan8E6Khosrow Parviz7E8Shiruyeh’s Coup and the End of the Great Reign1E10Yazdegard7More in the Glossary, all the characters and the Art.