New NaqqaliShah of Iran · son of Lohrasp
Goshtasbگشتاسپ
go-SHTASP
Son of Lohrasp, king of Iran and father of Esfandiyar.
- His story
- From C5.2, Goshtasb Departs in Anger, to C9.8, Bahman Receives the Kingdom
- Named
- 242 times, in 85 sections
- Parents
- Lohrasp
- Spouses
- Katayun
- Children
- Esfandiyar, Bishutan, Homahyi, Bih Afrid, Homahyi (Goshtasb)
- Plates
- Vol II: I, Vol II: VI
- Pictures
- 42 panels · identity sheets
How we draw Goshtasb
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
Goshtasb in 42 woodcut panels of the illustrated poem, in story order. Tap one to see it with the couplets it illustrates.
C5.2Goshtasb Demands the Crown at the Feast
C5.3Zarir Overtakes Goshtasb near Kabul
C5.4Goshtasb Rides Alone for Rum
C5.5Hishvi Ferries the Prince to Rum
C5.5The Anvil Splits Beneath Goshtasb's Hammer
C5.6The Village Chief Finds Goshtasb Grieving
C5.7Katayun Crowns the Stranger
C5.8Wed with Nothing but Each Other
C5.9Goshtasb Takes Salm's Sword
C5.10Goshtasb Cleaves the Horned Wolf
C5.10Hishvi and Murin Behold the Slain Wolf
C5.11Candles on the Sea for AhranAll 42 pictures
C5.12The Dragon Bites the Toothed Blade
C5.13Goshtasb Drives the Ball Out of Sight
C5.13Hishvi Lays the Teeth Before Caesar
C5.14Ilyas's Envoy Tempts Farrokhzad
C5.15Goshtasb Unhorses Ilyas
C5.17Zarir Before Caesar, Goshtasb Silent
C5.18The Iranians Kneel to Goshtasb
C5.18Lohrasp Crowns His Returned Son
C6.3Zardosht Brings the Censer of Fire
C6.6Arjasp's Envoys Kneel before Goshtasb
C6.7Goshtasb Flings the Answer at the Envoys
C6.9Goshtasb's Host Marches from Balkh
C6.10Jamasp Reads the Stars by the Jihun
C6.10Goshtasb Swoons at the Prophecy
C6.11Goshtasb Gives Zarir the Standard
C6.15Esfandiyar Takes Up the Royal Standard
C6.19Goshtasb Raises Zarir from the Field
C6.20Goshtasb Rewards His Captains at Balkh
C6.22Gurazm Whispers Treason to Goshtasb
C6.24Esfandiyar Is Chained before the Court
C6.25Rostam and Zal Welcome Goshtasb
C6.28Goshtasb's Wife Brings the News
C6.29Goshtasb Besieged on the Mountain
C6.32Goshtasb Embraces Esfandiyar on the Height
C6.33Goshtasb Pledges the Crown Again
C7.15Esfandiyar Embraces Goshtasb
C8.1Jamasp Reads Esfandiyar's Fate
C8.3Goshtasb Orders Rostam Bound
C8.30Goshtasb Receives His Grandson Bahman
C9.8Goshtasb Gives Bahman the KeysHis story, in the poem’s own sections
8 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.
C5.2
Goshtasb Departs in Anger
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Lohrasp’s sons Goshtasb and Zarir outshine everyone, but the Shah prefers Kay Kavus’s grandsons. Goshtasb demands to be named heir, is refused with a parable about an overfed stream, and rides for Hind by night with three hundred horsemen. Riders are sent after him in every direction.
43 couplets · Goshtasb named 6 times · in the full poem
He had two sons, as bright as moons in grace,Both worthy of the crown and royal place.
One son was named Goshtasb, one named Zarir;Both conquered lions and knew no trace of fear.
In arts and lore, their father they surpassed;In war, all other men they had outclassed.
Two other princes, fortunate and grand,Kay Kavus’s grandsons, graced the royal band.
Lohrasp took joy in that distinguished pair,And left Goshtasb neglected in despair.
Goshtasb’s head swelled with vanity and pride;This grieved Lohrasp, and heavily he sighed.
As time went on, resentment filled his mind;His father’s conduct seemed to him unkind.
One day in Pars they set the royal seatBeneath a tree that scattered blossoms sweet.
Lohrasp commanded that the chiefs appear;The leaders of his warriors gathered near.
They called for wine beside the royal board,And brought delight to their world-ruling lord.
Goshtasb drank wine, then rose before their sight,And spoke: “O Shah, whose rule is just and right,
May your accession to the throne be blessed;May lasting fame forever crown your crest.
God gave you crown and belt to mark your state;So did just Kay Khosrow, the good and great.
Now here I stand, a slave before your gate,A servant of your crown and royal fate.
Among the men who face my sword in fight,One warrior alone exceeds my might:
That one is Rostam, Zal’s son, Sahm’s heir;No man alive can with his strength compare.
When Kay Khosrow took thought for you that day,He gave you throne and crown, then passed away.
If I am worthy, name me next in line;Then let the Kayanian crown, throne be mine.
I still will stand before you as your slave,And hail you sovereign, generous and brave.”
Lohrasp replied, “My son, attend my word:Among the great, such rage is deemed absurd.
I still recall what Kay Khosrow advised;Hear him and let no justice be despised.
That righteous king spoke of a garden streamWhere springtime flowers in their splendor gleam:
‘As water feeds the stream, its strength will grow,And all the garden suffers from its flow.’
You still are young; do not aspire so high;Speak measured words and let your anger die.”
Goshtasb, on hearing, left his father’s sight,His face grown pale, his heart in sorrow’s plight.
He cried, “Then cherish strangers near your throne,And cast aside the offspring of your own.”
He had three hundred horsemen in his train,All warriors, ready for the battle’s strain.
He summoned them, and when they gathered near,Revealed his secret purpose, fierce and clear.
He said, “Prepare to leave the court tonight;Tear this court from your hearts and from your sight.”
One asked him, “Where do you intend to go?What shelter waits beyond the lands we know?”
He said, “In Hind they will receive me well,In joy and peace of mind I mean to dwell.
The king of Hind has sent a letter here,On silk, in script of black musk, fine and clear.
It says, ‘Come here; your servant I shall be,And never turn from what you ask of me.’”
When night came down, he mounted with his band,And left in wrath, his gorz within his hand.
At dawn Lohrasp was told what he had done;His joy was ended with the morning sun.
He called the veterans of the royal line,And told them all with grief in every sign.
“See what Goshtasb did,” he sadly said;“He pained my heart and poured dust on my head.
I reared him till no equal could be found;Peerless he stood across the world’s broad ground.
But when I thought, ‘My tree bears fruit at last,’Beyond my garden’s bounds the wanderer passed.”
He pondered long, then called for brave Zarir,And bade his son approach and lend an ear.
He said, “Choose from the army’s strength and mightA thousand horsemen, proven in the fight.
Ride swiftly toward Hindustan; may no landBecome a place where sorcerers command.”
Nohzar’s son Gostaham took Rum’s far way;Toward Chin, Guraza sped without delay.
C5.5
Goshtasb Arrives in Rum
👦🐎🌊⛵👴🤝🏙️🚶💰🚫👨🏫✍️🚫🐎🧰💪⚒️💥😨🍞🚫😢22 emoji · the whole poem in emoji →
Hishvi the ferryman carries the disguised prince across to Rum. In Salm’s great city Goshtasb looks for work: the scribes laugh at him, the royal herdsman will not trust a stranger, the camel-master sends him to court, and the smith’s anvil splits under his hammer.
64 couplets · Goshtasb named 14 times · in the full poem
Goshtasb dismounted when he reached the coast,And saw the toll-man standing at his post.
The keeper’s name was Hishvi, old and wise,A generous man with keen and watchful eyes.
Goshtasb saluted: “May your spirit brightKeep wisdom as its mate and walk in light.
A noted scribe from Iran comes to you,Wise, quick to learn, and clear in judgment too.
To ferry me across would earn my praise,A favor I shall honor all my days.”
Then Hishvi said, “A crown befits your might,Or jowshan, sword, and plunder won in fight.
Reveal your secret; tell me what you hide;Do not seek passage thus across the tide.
A gift is needed, if the truth you tell;Where is the scribe’s demeanor, known so well?”
Goshtasb replied, “No secret lies with me;I hide from you no truth that you should see.
This coronet, my seal, my sword, my gold;Choose what you wish from all the wealth I hold.”
He gave some coins to Hishvi for his aid;The keeper smiled, delighted to be paid.
He quickly raised the sail and crossed the spume,And bore the prince toward Caesar’s realm of Rum.
A city stood in Rum, renowned and wide;More than three farsangs spanned it side to side.
Great Salm had built that city long before,A seat of mighty Caesars famed in lore.
Goshtasb came and searched the city through,To find a place where he had work to do.
For seven days he wandered, seeking hire,Through thriving Rum, yet gained not his desire.
When all he had was spent or given away,He sighed and wandered, vexed, from day to day.
He wandered through the thriving city vast,Till to the court of Caesar’s scribes he passed.
He told the bishop, “Help me make a start;I come from Iran, trained in scribal art.
Whatever task you give, I shall fulfill;Assign the office-work that suits your will.”
The scribes within that office looked around,And stared at one another without sound.
“A steel pen would shed tears for such a man;A page would scorch before his work began.
He needs a lofty charger for his ride,A bow in hand, a kamand at his side.”
They cried, “No scribe is wanted here today;Leave us at once and quickly take your way.”
Goshtasb departed, sad and sorely pressed,His cheeks grown pale, his heart denied its rest.
He heaved a bitter sigh and turned aside,And hurried where the royal herds would bide.
The herdsman’s name was Nastad, brave and just,A generous man of wisdom, worth, and trust.
Goshtasb approached with gracious words to greetThe herdsman, bowing homage at his feet.
The herdsman welcomed him and bade him rest;He gave the seat beside him to his guest.
He asked, “Who are you, with that royal face,So kingly in your bearing and your grace?”
Goshtasb replied, “My lord, I ride with skill;I train young horses, strong in heart and will.
Accept me, and I shall be useful here,And stand beside you when distress is near.”
Nastad replied, “Go on. You are unknown,A stranger with no standing of your own.
Here are wide deserts, sea, and steeds at large;How can I trust their keeping to your charge?”
He clenched his fist and beat his chest in grief,And left the herdsman, finding no relief.
He said, “Whoever makes his father grieveWill in return far worse distress receive.”
He hurried to the keepers of the train,The camel-masters of the Roman plain.
He hailed the keeper: “May your mind be bright,And may your spirit dwell in wisdom’s light.”
That wise man, when he saw Goshtasb, drew near,And chose a place to seat him with good cheer.
He quickly spread a carpet for his guest,And brought the food he had to serve him best.
Goshtasb addressed the keeper of the train:“O man whose wakeful mind is bright and sane,
Give me a camel train, placed in my care;Assign whatever wage you judge is fair.”
The keeper said, “O man of noble frame,This humble work is far beneath your name.
Why take the work we do, with all its weight?Far better seek the court at Caesar’s gate.
He will provide the means to meet your need;Go only to his court, and there succeed.
If you have lost the way, I have a guide,And worthy camels here for you to ride.”
Goshtasb gave thanks to him and turned away,Distressed, and started cityward that day.
His sufferings lay heavy on his heart;He sought the smiths’ bazaar and iron art.
A noted smith named Burab forged his ware,Contented, known for craftsmanship and care.
He made the shoes the royal horses wore,And held an honored place at Caesar’s door.
He kept some five-and-thirty in his train,Apprentices who labored might and main.
Goshtasb sat long within the smithy’s glow,Until the craftsman wished that he would go.
The smith said, “Good man, why sit waiting here?What do you seek? Explain and make it clear.”
Goshtasb replied, “Good fortune on your skill!No hammer or hard work shall break my will.
If you will keep me, I shall lend a hand;This hammer and this anvil I command.”
When Burab heard the prince explain his aim,He took him as a helper at the flame.
He heated up a heavy iron ball,Then brought it to the anvil in the stall.
They gave Goshtasb a hammer, hard to bear;The smiths assembled round to watch and stare.
He struck; the ball and anvil split in two;Throughout the market, talk and wonder grew.
Burab grew frightened: “Young man, you are strong;No forge or anvil bears such blows for long,
Nor hammer, iron, stone, or bellows will!”Goshtasb heard; his heart grew darker still.
He flung the hammer down, and hungry fled,Without a meal or place to lay his head.
No hardship lasts, no treasure will remain;Nor ease nor joy endures, nor toil nor pain.
Both good and evil pass; they do not last;The wise will never let grief hold them fast.
C5.10
Goshtasb Slays the Wolf
🌲🐺😱👦🐎🙏🏹⚔️🗡️💀🐺🦷🏆👴🤗👸😟👨🎭🐺🚚👑🎉💍24 emoji · the whole poem in emoji →
Goshtasb rides into the forest alone, prays, empties his quiver into the beast, loses his horse to its horn, and splits its head with Salm’s sword on foot. He takes the tusks. Murin reports the kill as his own, and Caesar gives him the princess.
91 couplets · Goshtasb named 9 times · in the full poem
When forest and the wolf’s dark haunt drew near,Murin drew back, his heart consumed by fear.
He showed Goshtasb the wood and pointed whereThe monster lurked within its hidden lair.
They turned away; their tears fell hot and fast,Their hearts consumed by grief as each step passed.
“We shall not see that noble man return,”Said Hishvi, “and my heart can only burn.
Woe for his stature, strength, his handsome face,His mighty arms, his gorz, his charger’s pace!”
As brave Goshtasb approached the shadowed wood,He weighed the danger as a warrior should.
He stepped down from the saddle of his steed,And turned to God, Yazdan of all, to plead.
He said, “O holy Maker over all,Whose luster governs time’s great rise and fall,
Assist me now and make this monster cease;Let old Lohrasp be sheltered still in peace.
If by this dragon I am overthrown,This beast that is a wolf to fools alone,
My father, when he hears, will weep and grieve;No peaceful dawn will bring him a reprieve.
Distraught, like men whose reason has been torn,He will search everywhere, by sorrow worn.
But if this evil beast should make me flee,In shame I could not face those watching me.”
He mounted, raised his cry, and gripped in palmThe scimitar of ancient, mighty Salm.
A strung bow on his arm, he rode ahead,Alert, his heart weighed down with grief and dread.
He moved with caution till he neared the lair,Then raised a cry that thundered through the air.
The wolf beheld him from the forest shade,Its roar rose to the clouds above the glade.
Like lion or fierce leopard in its wrath,It tore the ground with claws across his path.
Goshtasb beheld the monster and drew tightHis bow, and showered arrows swift in flight.
His arrows fell upon the beast like rain,As spring clouds pour across the open plain.
Wounded by shafts that pierced its hide and mane,The beast grew fiercer from the burning pain.
It rose in fury, charged across the ground,A mighty camel in its bulk and bound.
Its horns thrust forward, like a stag’s, it came,Its heart all blood, its wounds a searing flame.
It reached the horse and drove a horn in deep,Into the black steed’s haunch with one fierce sweep.
It tore from groin to navel through the hide;Goshtasb drew the sword hung at his side.
On foot he struck the middle of its head;Split through the neck and trunk, the beast lay dead.
He turned to God, Yazdan of every beast,Of good and ill, of knowledge great and least.
He praised the Maker, bowing to Him low:“O You who make the days and seasons flow,
You guide the lost; You judge each living thing,The one just God, the world’s exalted King.
All triumph and desire obey Your will;Your name gives grace and knowledge, wisdom, skill.”
He left that place of prayer and wrenched awayThe two long tusks, then left the woodland fray.
Alone he left the forest, pressed ahead,And followed where the winding pathway led.
There Hishvi sat with Murin, full of woe;They spoke of him where waters ebb and flow.
They spoke of prince and wolf in deep despair:“Alas for that great rider in its lair!
He fights a mighty battle in its jaws;By now his flesh is torn beneath its claws.”
Then came Goshtasb on foot, all stained with blood,His face like fenugreek flowers in bud.
They saw him, then rose, and wept as they wept;Their lamentations surged again and swept.
They clasped him mournfully, their faces pale;Like springtime clouds, their tears fell without fail.
“How went your battle with the wolf?” they cried.“Our hearts have bled for you here by the tide.”
Goshtasb replied, “Good friends, is there no fearOf God in Rum, that such a beast lives here?
Year after year, how could this dragon treadYour land at will, and fill your hearts with dread?
It kills a world of people in its path;Your Caesar counts as dust before its wrath.
But I have cleft it with the sword of Salm;Its death has brought the roads enduring calm.
Go see that wonder now, its mighty hide;No man has seen a beast so broad and wide.
An aged elephant within its skin,It spans the very wood it settled in.”
Then both ran there, their hearts released from grief,And saw the monster dead beyond belief.
The wolf loomed like an elephant in view;Its claws were lions’, and its hide dark blue.
Cleft from the head to middle, there it lay:One hide made two fierce lions, split that way.
They blessed that glorious Sun upon the earth,And praised his strength, his valor, and his worth.
Glad-hearted from the forest then they came,And praised Goshtasb, the champion of fame.
Murin brought many gifts of costly kind,Such as his grateful judgment called to mind.
Goshtasb accepted nothing from that storeExcept another steed and asked no more.
He turned for home; when he approached the door,Katayun came to greet him as before.
She asked, “Who gave you this jowshan to wear?You rode out hunting in the morning air.”
The lion-hearted swordsman answered low:“O moon-faced lady, bright with beauty’s glow,
A noble group of men of high renownHas come to Rum from my own distant town.
They gave me this jowshan, this sword and helm,With loving words from kin in my own realm.”
She brought him wine as fragrant as a rose;They drank, then sought the comfort of repose.
They lay down glad beneath their stars that night;He started from his sleep in sudden fright.
He dreamed again the battle he had fought;A mighty dragon filled his sleeping thought.
Then Katayun asked him, “What troubles you,That terror shakes your heart the long night through?”
He answered, “In my dream I saw my throne,My star and fortune, all that is my own.”
She saw that he was royal in his birth,A king by heart and nature on the earth.
He hid his rank; yet she could see it plain,And knew he sought no place in Caesar’s train.
Goshtasb said, “Moon-faced lady, tall and fair,With jasmine cheeks and musk upon the air,
Prepare with me to seek Iranian ground,Where brave men dwell, and a just Shah is crowned.
You will behold our fields and blessed land,And take the just and generous monarch’s hand.”
Katayun answered, “Speak no foolish word,Nor rashly act upon what you have stirred.
Before you leave, let Hishvi hear your plan;Go first and speak with that discerning man.
Perhaps his boat will bear you from this shore,And, once you cross, your youthful world restore.
I shall remain in anguish, longing then;Who knows when I shall sleep with you again?”
Before he left, they wept where they had lain;Without a flame, they burned in grief and pain.
The wheeling sun shone brightly in the sky;The young pair woke with watchful hopes held high.
They rose up from the soft bed, side by side,And spoke of all the turning days might hide:
“What face will heaven wear for us today?Will this world turn to kindness or dismay?”
Meanwhile Murin went swiftly to the king,And brought the news that made the palace ring:
“The losses that the wolf inflicted ceased;Its reign of terror died with that dread beast.
Its dragon body fills the forest glade;Come see the wonder that my sword has made.
It charged at me with fury in its stride;I met it with the khanjar at my side.
I split it from the head to middle through;That stroke would make a Div himself quake too.”
The Caesar swelled with pride at what he heard;His faded face grew bright at Murin’s word.
He ordered oxen, carts, and tents conveyedOutside the city, where the feast was laid.
They made a place for feasting at his call,With wine and music, minstrels for them all.
They brought the ox-drawn carts along the trackInto the wolf’s great wood to bring it back.
They saw a raging elephant in size,Cleft head to middle, stretched before their eyes.
They hauled it from the meadow where it lay,With straining oxen dragging it away.
A world of people came to see it lie;What wolf? A fierce male lion met the eye!
The Caesar saw its elephantine size,And clapped his hands with joy before their eyes.
That day he called the bishop to his side,And gave his child to Murin as his bride.
They wrote to bishops, chiefs throughout the land,To patricians and lords who held command:
“Murin, the lion, Rum’s exalted son,Has slain the wolf; the country’s peace is won.”
C5.18
Goshtasb Receives the Kingship
👦🤝👨🏛️👑🕊️📨👸🎁🐎🧭👨👦😭🤗👑👑🎉⏳📖19 emoji · the whole poem in emoji →
Goshtasb rides to his brother’s camp and is given the crown; Iran’s chiefs hail him Shah. Caesar comes to make peace, learns who his son-in-law is, and sends Katayun a treasure train. Goshtasb remits the tribute, rides home, and Lohrasp crowns him.
75 couplets · Goshtasb named 14 times · in the full poem
Then Caesar rose and asked, “Why did you hideYour answer from the envoy at your side?”
Goshtasb replied, “Before this, I remainedAt Iran’s court, where its great monarch reigned.
His chiefs and warriors know me, one and all;They know my deeds in battle and in hall.
The wiser course is that I seek their side,And speak and listen before arms decide.
I shall obtain for you your heart’s desire,And raise your name through all the world like fire.”
“You are more wise than I,” the Caesar said,“And better fit to carry this ahead.”
Goshtasb then mounted on his eager steed,And acted on the counsel just agreed.
Crowned, he rode forth to reach Zarir’s abode;His wind-swift charger bore him down the road.
The warriors saw Lohrasp’s son appear,Goshtasb, that noble prince they held so dear.
With aching hearts and faces wet with tears,They came on foot, those warriors and peers.
They bowed before him, praising him at last:Their long and bitter days of grief had passed.
Zarir dismounted as his brother came,No longer stirred by war’s consuming flame.
Goshtasb embraced the brother he held dear,And made excuses, humble and sincere.
They sat together in the royal hall,With Iran’s chiefs and warriors one and all.
The blessed Zarir said, “May fortune stayBeside you through the years and never stray.
Our father now is old; why stay away?Your heart is young, but his hair has turned gray.
The throne now brings him weariness and pain;He seeks God’s path, not sovereignty or gain.
He sends you crown and treasure to relieveThe pain you bear; no longer should you grieve.
His words were these: ‘I lay my kingship down;Yours are the army, treasure, throne, and crown.
For me, one corner of the world will do;The throne of greatness now belongs to you.
Your brother brings the crown and torque of gold,The armlet and the ivory throne of old.’”
Goshtasb rejoiced before his father’s throne,And sat, crowned, on the seat that was his own.
Kay Kavus’s scions came to celebrateWith Gudarz’s descendants, blessed by fate.
Bahram and Shapur stood among the great,With Rivniz, men of wealth and high estate.
All hailed him Shah and king of earth aloud,Their sovereign, ruler of the world; they bowed.
The warriors stood before him, belted tight,Those seasoned men who faced the fiercest fight.
Goshtasb perceived their loyalty was true,And sent the Caesar words of friendship due:
“Your wish with Iran has at last been won;More than you sought has now been said and done.
Zarir and all the army wait for you;Come to this camp and greet the chiefs you knew.
We all shall pledge you friendship, true and whole,And each shall give as surety his soul.
So come, if coming brings you no distress;Your hoped-for purpose now has found success.”
The envoy entered Caesar’s royal hall,And told him what had passed, recounting all.
Then Caesar mounted, and his wind-foot steedBore him to seal the pact they had agreed.
He rode until he reached Iran’s array,And saw the noble warriors on his way.
Goshtasb rose before him, straight and tall,Above the other nobles in the hall.
He clasped the Caesar warmly at first sight,And spoke of former days, now brought to light.
Then Caesar knew Goshtasb was his true name,The son who made Lohrasp’s crown shine with fame.
He praised him greatly, bowed with deep respect;Then both sat down, as honor would direct.
Then Caesar made excuses for the past,Amazed by fortune’s change so deep and vast.
Goshtasb accepted all the monarch said,And drew him close and gently held his head.
He said, “When heaven darkens into night,And it is time to set the lamps alight,
Send her who chose me as her husband here;She has endured much sorrow, pain, and fear.”
Ashamed and weary, Caesar left the place,To ponder how his deeds had brought disgrace.
He sent to Katayun abundant gold,A crown, five rubies, treasures manifold,
A thousand Roman slaves, both girls and boys,A jeweled torque among the royal joys,
Five camel-loads of Chinese brocade rare,With wealth entrusted to a sage’s care,
With Arab steeds in bargostvan, a train,With padded coats and robes from Hind’s domain,
With dinars, brocades, crowns, and gems that shone,And goods from Rum and Chin brought to the throne.
The sage conveyed the treasure to the court,And to its keeper gave a full report.
To Iran’s chiefs and warriors, to each heirOf noble blood and honored everywhere,
To every notable and swordsman brave,Both arms and money Caesar freely gave.
He sent fine presents to each captain’s hand,And every man was gifted in that band.
He praised the One who fashioned earth and time,And spread his blessings on that Lord sublime.
Then Katayun arrived, and from the courtThe royal tabira rang its report.
The horses’ dust rose up and veiled the sky,As troops rode toward Iran with banners high.
For two full stages Caesar rode the track;Then Goshtasb turned the monarch’s charger back.
With oaths of friendship, back to Rum he sentThe Caesar, blessing him the way he went.
“While I still live, no tribute shall be due;My heart shall cherish Rum with friendship true.”
He journeyed on until Iran drew near,And reached the land of warriors without peer.
When Shah Lohrasp heard Goshtasb neared the townWith brave Zarir, his brother of renown,
He went with Iran’s chiefs in bright array,With all the mighty warriors on the way.
Goshtasb dismounted quickly from his steed,And kissed the earth, from sorrow’s burden freed.
Lohrasp beheld his son and clasped him tight,And mourned harsh heaven at that painful sight.
They reached the palace, dazzling every eye,Like sun in Pisces, shining from on high.
Lohrasp said, “Do not lay the blame on me;This was the Maker’s will and firm decree.
Perhaps this fate was written at your birth:Your realm would lack your presence on its earth.”
Lohrasp then kissed Goshtasb and crowned his head,And joyfully his royal blessings spread.
Goshtasb replied, “O Shah, may God sustainYour life and keep your glory free from stain.
Though you exalt me, I remain your man;To honor you, I shall do all I can.
May all your aims be prosperous and bright;May your great fame endure in lasting light.
The world remains with no man; every breathWithin the body bears its toil till death.”
Such is this fickle world; with might and main,From sowing seeds of evil here refrain.
I ask the one just God to grant me days,To linger here a while beneath His gaze,
And finish in the finest words I knowThis book of kings who ruled so long ago.
Then earth may claim this living frame of mine;My speaking soul regains its source divine.
C6.3
Zardosht Appears before Goshtasb
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A tree rises in Goshtasb’s hall: it is Zardosht, who brings fire from Paradise and the Good Religion. Goshtasb, Zarir and Lohrasp accept it, the Mobadan are sent out, fire-temples rise, and a cypress from Paradise is planted at Kishmar.
49 couplets · Goshtasb named 4 times · in the full poem
Thus passed a while; then on the earth appearedA spreading tree whose many branches reared
Within Goshtasb’s hall toward the palace height,Its crown thick-set with boughs, a noble sight.
Its leaves were counsel; wisdom hung on high;Who tasted of its fruit, how could he die?
That blessed tree was Zardosht, who had slainThe evil Ahriman and checked his reign.
He said, “I am God’s prophet and your guide;Through me, the path to God is opened wide.”
He brought a censer, fire within it bright;“From Paradise,” he said, “I bring this light.
The Maker says, ‘Accept the Faith I show;Behold the sky above, the earth below.
I made them not from dust and water’s frame;Look on My work and know from whom it came.
See now if any other power could doThis work but I, whose rule is just and true.
If you acknowledge all that I have shown,Then name Me this world’s Maker, Me alone.’
Receive His good religion from my voice,And learn His path; make wisdom now your choice.
Do as the holy speaker bids you still;Choose wisdom; know the world as vain and ill.
Learn well the Faith, its customs and its ways;Without it, kingship merits little praise.”
When that good Shah had heard the true Faith taught,He took its customs into deed and thought.
His valiant brother, glorious Zarir, came,Who conquered elephants and carried fame.
His father, old at Balkh, whose wounded heartFound life too bitter, also took his part.
From every province came the chiefs, a throngOf healers, sages, warriors famed and strong.
They gathered to the monarch of the earth,And took the cincture in that Faith’s new birth.
Then was the farr of God made manifest;And evil fled the hearts it had possessed.
Idol-worship faded from their sight;The sacred fire became the chosen rite.
The dakhmas filled with God’s celestial light;The lineages were cleansed of every blight.
Then high-born Goshtasb sat upon the throne,And sent his troops through lands that were his own.
He sent the Mobadan through every land,And fire-temples rose at his command.
First he established Mehr Barzin’s bright flame;Behold the rites that through his kingdom came.
From Paradise a noble cypress rose;Zardosht set it where the sacred fire glows.
He carved upon its trunk for all to read:“Goshtasb accepts the Good Religion’s creed.”
He made the cypress witness to the rite,That wisdom’s justice spread through sacred light.
When many years had passed in such a way,The cypress grew in height from day to day.
The noble tree grew broad as well as tall;No kamand could encompass it at all.
When many boughs had climbed into the sky,He built a palace round it, rising high.
It stood a full forty rash high and wide;No clay or water helped its walls abide.
He built that palace out of gold; he madeIts floors of silver, ambergris inlaid.
There he had painted mighty Jamshid’s face,In worship of the sun and moon’s bright grace.
He also ordered Fereydoon portrayed,Armed with the ox-head gorz his hand had swayed.
He painted every ruler, heir by heir;Consider whether power lived elsewhere.
When that famed golden hall stood rich and fair,He set its walls with jewels everywhere.
He raised an iron rampart round about;There Goshtasb dwelt, secure from fear and doubt.
He sent through every realm this firm decree:“What cypress rivals Kishmar’s sacred tree?
God sent it down from Paradise, and badeMe seek that realm from this same cypress shade.
Now hear my counsel: journey from your landsOn foot to Kishmar, where the cypress stands.
Adopt the path Zardosht revealed as true,And cast Chin’s worshiped idols far from you.
In Iran’s royal name, with farr allied,Bind on the sacred cincture, firmly tied.
Heed not the customs of your former sires;Rest in this cypress shade, as Faith requires.
Turn toward the fire-temple’s dome, and doWhat Zardosht’s truthful words command of you.”
He spread his words through all the world’s domain,Among the men of name and those who reign.
At his command all crowns to Kishmar came,Toward the noble cypress of great fame.
The shrine became a paradise of light;There Zardosht bound the Div and broke its might.
Call it a tree of Paradise; why prizeThe cypress just as Kishmar’s in men’s eyes?
Why not a shoot of Paradise, brought downAnd set at Kishmar by the Kayanian crown?
C6.4
Goshtasb Refuses Tribute to Arjasp
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The aged Zardosht rules that the Faith forbids paying tribute to Chin, and Goshtasb cancels it. A Div carries the news to Arjasp, who sickens with rage, denounces Zardosht to his council as an old magician, and drafts a letter of threats and gifts.
42 couplets · Goshtasb named 4 times · in the full poem
Time passed; Zardosht grew old beneath its weight,And came to speak of faith and royal state.
He said, “Our sacred law does not allowThat we before the prince of Chin should bow.
To pay him tribute does not fit our creed;Our Faith cannot approve of such a deed.
Moreover, I cannot consent to this;The former Shahs would deem such gifts amiss.
No Shah of ours paid tribute in that hourTo Turks who lacked both faith and kingly power.”
Goshtasb assented: “I shall give commandThat no more tribute leave our ancient land.”
A mighty Div, when he had heard this thing,Went straight to Chin and spoke before its king:
“O monarch, all beneath the turning sphere,All men alike, your sovereign name revere.
They all obey the orders you proclaim;None turns aside or dares dispute your claim,
Except Goshtasb, Shah Lohrasp’s son, whose forceNow takes against the Turks its marching course.
He has established here another creed,And shunned the idols, both in word and deed.
He shows his hatred openly to you;How dares he boast against a king so true?
More than a hundred thousand horsemen rideAt my command; call, and they join your side.
Go then; pursue this matter to its end;Fear not the strife if he should dare contend.”
Arjasp, when he had heard the Div’s report,Stepped from his throne before the gathered court.
His heart grew heavy, burdened by dismay;He sickened as his strength was drained away.
He summoned priests and told them what he heard,Then spoke to all the council, word by word:
“Goshtasb has lost his wisdom and his way;His farr and pure religion now decay.
A foolish elder has appeared to claimThe prophet’s office in the Maker’s name.
He says, ‘From Heaven’s heights to earth I came,Sent by Yazdan who shaped creation’s frame.
I saw Yazdan within His Paradise;He wrote the Zand-Avesta, true and wise.
I also saw dark Ahriman in Hell,But dared not venture where that fiend must dwell.
Yazdan then sent me forth to teach His creed,And guide earth’s monarch in its word and deed.’
The chief among Iran’s great men of fame,Goshtasb, Lohrasp’s illustrious son by name,
Has bound the cincture firmly round his waist,And turned to this new Faith with reckless haste.
His brother too, courageous, without fear,Has joined him; chief of Iran’s force, Zarir.
His father, numbered with the brave and true,Has turned and joined the elder’s followers too.
All gather now to learn what they are shown;The old magician makes their minds his own.
With one consent they have embraced his way;His rites and customs fill the world today.
By tricks and shameless fraud he spreads his claim,And dares to speak as prophet in God’s name.
He kindled fire and took it in his hand,And barred the former worship of the land.
A censer full of fire he then displayedBefore the king, whom all the realm obeyed.
He calls this teaching Zand-Avesta’s light,And trusts the blazing fire that burns so bright.
I shall write to that rebel ruler now,Who will no longer heed my word or bow.
Rich gifts shall follow, freely from my store;A gift not sought is valued all the more.
I shall say: ‘Leave this evil course; hold fastTo awe of God, and shun your errors past.
Cast that old miscreant from your council hall,And hold a feast by customs shared by all.’
If he accepts advice, his feet will knowNo galling bonds, nor chains of shame and woe.
But if he will not hear the words we send,And stirs old feuds that counsel cannot mend,
We shall collect our scattered troops again,And muster into one our fighting men.
We shall march on Iran along his track,Nor fear the pain and fury of attack.
We shall expel him, shamed, his honor gone,And hang him living with his fetters on.”
C6.28
News of Lohrasp’s Death Reaches Goshtasb
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Goshtasb’s wife rides to Sistan in Turkish disguise with the news: Lohrasp killed, Balkh sacked, the fire quenched, Homahyi and Bih Afrid led away in chains. Goshtasb summons his Pahlevans and marches to Balkh, where three days of battle kill thirty-eight of his sons.
50 couplets · Goshtasb named 7 times · in the full poem
Goshtasb possessed a wife, both wise and high,Prudent in counsel, keen of heart and eye.
She dressed herself in Turkish garb, a ruse,And took the swiftest steed that she could choose.
She left the palace, struck with grief and fear,And rode toward Sistan with the tidings clear.
At no stage did she pause for sleep or rest;Along two days’ long road she onward pressed.
So on she went until Goshtasb she found,And told him Lohrasp’s fate with grief profound.
She said, “Why have you lingered here so long?Why leave famed Balkh exposed to grief and wrong?
An army from Turan has reached the town,And turned its people’s bright day upside down.
All Balkh is filled with plunder, death, and cries;Return at once, O king, and swiftly rise.”
Goshtasb replied, “What grief is this you bring?Why mourn one raid as such a grievous thing?
When I march forth, all Chin will fail to standBefore my crown, my troops, my royal hand.”
She answered, “Do not call this matter small;A darker blow has fallen on us all.
The Turks struck down Lohrasp, the king of kings,And grief has dimmed the light that fortune brings.
They stormed the shrine of Nush Azar in wrath,And slew the chiefs and priests across their path.
Their blood put out the Fire’s once-shining light;This outrage cannot be accounted slight.
They led your daughters from the city, chained;Do not treat lightly what the foe has gained.
Had only fair Homahyi met disgrace,A sage would quake, his anguish in his face.
And Bih Afrid, your other daughter fair,Once hidden from the very breath of air,
They dragged her from her golden throne that day,And stripped her crown and bracelets all away.”
Goshtasb, on hearing this, was filled with pain,His lashes shedding yellow blood like rain.
He called the great men of Iran to hear,And told them all the tidings, dark and clear.
He called a scribe, put crown and throne aside,And sent his horsemen outward far and wide.
He wrote his Pahlevans, “Do not wash clayFrom head or hair; let nothing bar your way.
Let neither heights nor hollows turn you back;Come swiftly over every hill and track.”
They bore the letter out through every plain,To every mighty man in his domain.
The warriors came, their Roman helmets bright,With gorzes, gathered for the coming fight.
He gave them pay and marched from Sistan’s land,And took the road to Balkh with force in hand.
Arjasp then heard that Shah Goshtasb drew near,With crown and troops in armor, spear to spear.
He gathered from Turan so vast a forceThat sun and moon grew dark along its course.
From sea to sea that army stretched in pride;No open ground lay bare on either side.
And when the dust-clouds of the armies met,The earth grew dark; the sun appeared to set.
Both armies formed their lines across the plain,With swords and spears and javelins in their train.
Upon Iran’s right side stood Farshidvard,A prince whose sword struck lions fierce and hard.
Upon the left stood Nastur, battle-tried,His courage overflowing like a tide.
Goshtasb, the monarch, held the center’s ground,And watched his warriors ranged in order round.
Kundur was posted on the Turkish right,His baggage train behind him for the fight.
Kuhram, the swordsman, held the left in flame;Arjasp stood central with his men of name.
Karnay and tabira’s din from both sides rose;Earth turned to iron under charging foes.
The air grew black beneath the battle’s might;The heavens seemed about to take their flight.
Earth cracked beneath the weight; the horses’ criesAnd axe-blows made the mountains seem to rise.
The field was strewn with heads upon the ground;The gorz-men’s shattered skulls lay all around.
The headless bodies lay across the clay;Swords flashed, and arrows darkened all the day.
The heroes shouted wildly through the fight;The stars themselves seemed eager to take flight.
No warrior spared his life; the weapons bent;Both spear and gorz beneath the blows they sent.
Beneath the horses many lay in blood;A lion’s breast their shroud amid that flood.
Their coffin was the blood in which they lay;Like foaming elephants, men fought their way.
No father had the time to mourn his son;For three days and three nights the war-wheels spun.
So thick the blood surged through that field of fight,It turned the moon’s face ruby-red that night.
Then Farshidvard strove lion-like in strife,Till Kuhram struck and almost took his life.
So many of Iran’s brave fighters died;Their blood soaked all the country far and wide.
Goshtasb’s own thirty-eight bold sons fell low;The Shah’s good fortune sank beneath the blow.
C8.3
Goshtasb Replies to His Son
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Goshtasb grants that his son has no peer but Rostam, then names his price for the crown: march to Sistan and bring back Rostam, Zal, Zavareh and Faramarz in bonds. Esfandiyar protests the injustice, is refused twice, and leaves in anger.
48 couplets · Goshtasb named 3 times · in the full poem
The Shah replied, “From truth we must not stray;Your deeds exceed the things you tell today.
May God, who made the world, remain your aid;Each foe, concealed or open, stands afraid.
What man can hear your name and not grow pale?I say grow pale? His very life would fail.
You have no peer but Rostam, Zal’s great son,That witless chief, in valor matched by none.
He holds Zabulistan and Kabul’s plain,With Ghaznin, Bost, and all their wide domain.
His valor rises past the heavens’ height;He will not bow before another’s might.
He served Kay Kavus in the days gone by,And lived when Khosrow held his kingship high.
He will not name me king; his words are bold:‘Goshtasb’s crown is new, and we are old.’
No Roman, Turk, or noble is your peerWhen you in battle on the field appear.
Set out for Sistan with your chosen train;Use craft and force and guile across that plain.
Draw sword and raise your gorz; let Rostam seeHis hands in bonds and bring him here to me.
Bring brave Zavareh, Faramarz beside;Let none of them take horse again to ride.
Then by the Judge, the source of strength and light,Who made the sun and moon and stars burn bright,
When you complete this charge, our strife shall cease;From me you shall hear no dispute, but peace.
I give you treasure, troops, and royal seat;And crown you on the throne, your claim complete.”
Esfandiyar replied, “O noble king,You leave old justice for a crooked thing.
A sovereign’s speech should measured wisdom bear;His words should balance justice, truth, and care.
Fight Chin’s great king and scatter all his horde;Send dust from warriors beaten by your sword.
Why fight that aged man, whom Kavus namedA lion-catcher, mighty and acclaimed?
From Manuchehr to Kay Qobad, his fameMade Iran’s heart rejoice to hear his name.
They called him Lord of Rakhsh, world-conquering guide,King-maker, lion-queller, Iran’s pride.
His greatness is no rumor newly heard;Kay Khosrow pledged his bond and gave his word.
If royal covenants cannot hold true,Why seek a charter, Shah Goshtasb, from you?”
The Shah replied, “My lion-hearted son,Renowned and skilled in all that you have done,
Who breaks God’s covenant shall find his ownA desert wind, across the wasteland blown.
You heard how Kavus strayed from what was right,At Iblis’ bidding, robbed of judgment’s light.
On eagles’ wings he climbed the heavens high,Then fell in Sari’s waters from the sky.
He brought from Hamavaran his Div-born bride;The royal women’s house was hers to guide.
Through her, the noble Siavash was slain;The royal house was overturned in pain.
No man should pass the gate or seek the nodOf one who turns from fealty to God.
If crown and throne are what you hope to claim,Then march with troops to Sistan for that aim.
When you arrive, bind Rostam’s hands; obeyThe charge I give, and bring him back this way.
Bring Rostam with the kamand round his arm,Bound fast, a captive, stripped of power to harm.
For Zal, Zavareh, Faramarz, take heed;Let none contrive a snare to thwart your deed.
Bring them on foot and make them run this way;Bring them before me, prince, without delay.
Then none will turn from us, however greatHis wealth or pleasure in his prosperous state.”
The chieftain frowned, displeasure in his eyes;He said, “Turn back from what you now devise.
Not Zal or Rostam is your true concern;Against your son your plotting thoughts now turn.
You grudge the royal throne I seek to gain;You would not have me in this world remain.
Keep crown and royal throne, as you desire;The world has corners where I may retire.
Yet I remain your servant, patient still,And bow my head before your royal will.”
Goshtasb replied, “Do not be angered so;This greatness shall be yours, as you shall know.
Choose many riders versed in battle’s art,Men who have long in warfare played their part.
Take arms and wealth, take soldiers as you need;Let every foe lament your coming deed.
Without you, troops and wealth and throne are vain;What use a crown, if I alone remain?”
He said, “I need no troops; when death draws near,God will not spare me with an army here.”
He left his father, angry at the crownWithheld, and how his father kept him down.
He reached his hall, his face a mask of grief,His sighs gave voice to pain beyond relief.
Family
- Parents
- Lohrasp
- Spouses
- Katayun
- Siblings
- Zarir
- Children
- Esfandiyar, Bishutan, Homahyi, Bih Afrid, Homahyi (Goshtasb)
On the maps
Story maps that show Goshtasb or tell a part of the story that names Goshtasb.
C5.4–C5.18Goshtasb’s Exile in Rum
C6.3The Coming of Zardosht: Balkh and the Cypress of Kishmar
C6.4–C6.20The First War with Arjasp
C6.25–C6.32The Second War: The Fall of Balkh
C7.2–C7.12Esfandiyar’s Seven Stages to the Brazen Hold
D3.1–D3.4Darab's Reign and the Two Births
E7.5–E7.8The Zenith of Khosrow Parviz: Madain and the Throne of TaqdisWhere he appears
Named mentions by book, from the Universe Registry, the index behind this site. Titles and epithets are not counted.
C5Lohrasp99C6Goshtasb, Zardosht, and the War with Arjasp76C7Esfandiyar’s Seven Stages and the Ruyin Dezh15C8The Tragedy of Rostam and Esfandiyar35C9Rostam and Shaghad1D1The Reign of Bahman, Son of Esfandiyar2D3Darab1D4Dara and Iskandar2D6The Ashkanian Dynasty1D7The Early Sasanians1E1The Story of Mahbud and Other Matters1E4Anooshirvan’s Last Years1E5Hormizd, Son of Anooshirvan2E6Khosrow Parviz2E7The Story of Khosrow Parviz and Shirin2E8Shiruyeh’s Coup and the End of the Great Reign1More in the Glossary, all the characters and the Art.