New NaqqaliPahlevan · head of the House of Gudarz
Gudarzگودرز
goo-DARZalso Gudarzian
Son of Keshvad, head of the great house of Gudarz; father of Giv. He slays Piran in the battle of the Twelve Rukhs.
His story, in the poem’s own sections
9 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.
B8.13
Kavus’s Anger at Rostam
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Kavus, furious at the delay, orders Rostam and Giv hanged. Rostam strikes Tus, declares that his strength comes from God alone and rides away. Gudarz talks Kavus into repentance, then shames Rostam into returning with a rumor that he fears Sohrab. King and champion are reconciled.
123 couplets · Gudarz named 6 times · in the full poem
As Rostam neared the court, Tus crossed the plain,With Gudarz riding in his warlike train.
A full day’s road they traveled out to meet,The champion came riding, proud and fleet.
They left their steeds and hailed him with acclaim,Then mounted, and beside him on they came.
And Rostam too dismounted from his steed;The chiefs inquired of him with gracious heed.
They came before the Shah with spirits light,And bowed in full observance of his right.
But Kavus answered not, nor showed them grace;A darkened fury settled on his face.
Like some wild lion raging from the wood,He stormed in wrath where once in calm he stood.
At Giv he first unleashed his bitter spite,Then turned on Rostam, burning in his sight.
“Who is this man who scorns my royal call,And counts my summons as no thing at all?
Were there a sword beneath my hand this day,His head should fall; a citron, cast away.
Seize Rostam now! Go hang him from the height!Let him not stand before my royal sight!”
At this, Giv’s wounded heart within him burned,To see the Shah against great Rostam turned.
The Shah grew fierce, enraged at both, and stern;The court stood stunned to see his anger burn.
He turned to Tus: “Go take them both and bind!Hang them at once and leave no trace behind!”
He sprang upright as fire through dry reeds flies,While wrath burned red and bitter in his eyes.
Tus stepped ahead and seized him by the hand,To lead him out, obeying the command.
But Rostam, rising fierce in sudden flame,Replied in words that put the court to shame:
“Your every deed grows worse with each new choice;No king should rule by fury in his voice.
Kingship does not suit the course you take;A ruler’s wrath should not the kingdom shake.
Hang that Turk alive if you crave display,Then turn your rage upon the field of fray.
Rum, Sagzar, Mesr, Chin have yielded ground;Mazandaran, Hamavaran were bound.
All these lie prostrate under Rakhsh’s tread,Their hearts by sword and crossbow struck with dread.
You live through me; then turn your rage from me;Let war receive the fury you set free.”
In fury Rostam struck Tus with his hand;Tus reeled beneath a blow he could not stand.
As when a raging elephant might poundA tabira; headfirst Tus crashed to ground.
Then Rostam strode beyond the royal hall,And left in rage before the eyes of all.
He mounted Rakhsh, his anger bearing down:“I slay the lion; I bestow the crown!
When anger wakes, what power has Kavus then?What fear have I of kings or armed men?
And who is Tus, to lay his hand on me?When I grow enraged, who can Kavus be?
My strength is mine from God and God alone;No king or army gives the might I own.
I entered life a free man, not a slave;I serve the Maker who my spirit gave.
The earth my servant, Rakhsh my royal seat;My gorz decides which foemen face defeat.
My sword my signet, helmet as my crown;My spear and gorz strike the enemy down.
My two strong arms and heart are sovereign here;No earthly crown can make their purpose veer.
My shining sword makes darkest night grow bright,And scatters heads across the field of fight.
The warriors once would crown me Shah of all;They set the crown and throne before my hall.
I would not take the crown when it was mine;I kept the ancient law, the royal line.
Had I accepted what they offered then,You would not rule among Iran’s crowned men.
I raised Kay Qobad up to royal height;What need have I of Kavus’s borrowed might?
From Alborz I brought Qobad to the crown;My hand raised up the king of great renown.
Without that deed, Iran’s own belt and bladeHad never marked the kingdom we had made.
Without my hand, what greatness would you wield?You would not boast so boldly in the field.
What care I now for Kavus’s empty claim?His words are wind that cannot stir my name.
Go save yourselves; Sohrab will soon appear,And leave no great nor lowly standing here.
Make haste and flee while time remains your friend;Without my arm, all Iran meets its end.
The land is yours; the vulture’s wings are mine;I leave you now, and cross no more this line.”
He struck his steed and rode in burning rage,While fear and grief possessed both chief and sage.
His very skin seemed splitting from the strain,As fury burned through every bone and vein.
The nobles trembled, for their strength had fled;Without their guide, their hopes and courage bled.
For Rostam was the shepherd, they the fold,And now the fold stood shepherdless and cold.
Then Giv and Gudarz, Bahram, Rohham came,With Gorgin too, and grieved at Rostam’s shame.
They said, “This breach is yours alone to mend;The Shah may hear you where he spurns a friend.”
They turned to Gudarz: “You must mend this break;Your words alone can make the blind Shah wake.
Go, speak to him with patience and with tact;Perhaps your words may yet undo this act.”
“Rostam has risked his life in every need;No rescuer has matched him word or deed.”
They spoke of all his deeds in former years;The trials he faced, the strength that quelled their fears:
“In Mazandaran Divs had bound the Shah;Who broke his chains and struck their hearts with awe?
For Rostam faced the Divs, stroke on stroke,And from their bonds the Shah and nobles broke.
For him what toil and hardship Rostam bore;The dread Div’s liver with his strength he tore.
He set the rescued Shah upon his throne,While chiefs acclaimed the valor he had shown.
When Hamavaran held the Shah confined,Who cut him free and left his chains behind?
In Hamavaran, fetters held the king;Rostam slew kings and broke the captive ring.
If this be how his service is repaid,Then none should stay, and none should come to aid.”
“Now action calls; delay will deepen shame,For this disgrace has stained Iran’s great name.”
Then Gudarz hurried to the Shah to plead,And spoke with measured force that fit the need:
“What wrong has Rostam done to earn your scorn,That you would drive this hero out forlorn?
Why raise such dust through Iran in this strife?Why hang the man whose arm has saved your life?
A king should never speak in reckless heat;Such words make royal dignity retreat.
Have you forgotten Mazandaran’s night,And how he saved you in that desperate fight?
When Hamavaran held you bound and low,Who broke your chains and struck your greatest foe?
If he departs and Sohrab takes the field,What strength remains for you to hope to wield?
Gazhdaham has seen him; heed his warning plain:No man but Rostam should confront his strain.
If Rostam goes, who meets that wolf-like youth,When Gazhdaham has warned us of the truth?
A king with Rostam standing at his side,Who drives him off has wisdom cast aside.
Recall his service; weigh it in your mind;No gain is born when loyalty is maligned.”
The Shah grew still, and reason found its place;He saw his fault and owned his deep disgrace.
The Shah said, “Age gives counsel worth the cost;The old see roads that younger eyes have lost.
A king needs wisdom; haste and rage mislead;No lasting good can spring from violent speed.”
“You speak the truth,” he said, “your counsel stands;Go bring him back; restore him to my hands.
Tell him my anger rose beyond control;I now repent the storm within my soul.
Bring Rostam back before my royal sight,That this dark soul of mine may turn to light.”
Then Gudarz rode along the hero’s way,With chiefs beside him pressing through the day.
They caught him, saying, “May your life be long;May fortune keep your spirit bright and strong.
May all the world lie subject to your view,And may the throne’s high seat belong to you.”
They gathered round and spoke in earnest tone:“Return in honor; the Shah calls you home.
He spoke in wrath; his anger now has died;Return, for all Iran has lost its guide.”
“You know that Kavus has no brain,” they said;“In haste he speaks, then mourns the words he spread.
You know the Shah: his wrath will quickly rise,Then cool as swiftly when regret grows wise.
Whatever wrong the Shah has done today,Iran itself should not be made to pay.
He gnaws the back of his own hand in shame,Repenting every word that fed the flame.”
But Rostam said: “I need no royal aid;My throne is Rakhsh, my fame by battle made.
My helmet is my crown, jowshan my gear;My heart is pledged to death and knows no fear.
Kavus is nothing but a handful of dust;Why should his anger govern what I trust?
I freed him once from chains that held him down,And led him back again to throne and crown.
I fought the Divs in Mazandaran’s field,And Hamavaran’s kings I made to yield.
Whenever foes had caught him in their snare,I broke his bonds and drew him from despair.
I fear but Yazdan; no monarch shakes my will.I stand as I have stood and shall stand still.”
The gathering grew cold at Rostam’s word;No answer through the silent ranks was heard.
Then Gudarz spoke with sharpened, subtle art:“Men say you fear this youth with lion’s heart.
They whisper: ‘Rostam shrinks from Sohrab’s might;His courage fails before the coming fight.’
They say Gazhdaham read the danger clear;That even Rostam now gives ground to fear.
If Rostam fears him, who can hold the field?Then you and I should both withdraw and yield.
Will you permit such slander to remain,And let base tongues your hard-won honor stain?
Sohrab is all the court will speak of now;Your fame is judged by what you do, and how.
The army now is hard pressed in this fight;Do not make crown and throne grow dark tonight.
From Turan comes a shame we cannot hide;Will you not rise and turn the rising tide?”
Tahamtan stared, astonished by the claim;Then wounded honor kindled into flame.
The hero’s spirit flared at that sharp blow:“I fear no man, as all the nations know.
I turned away from insult, not from fight;Let none mistake my purpose or my right.”
He turned his steed and rode back through the gate,Kay Kavus rose himself and did not wait.
“Impetuous haste is rooted in my soul;It mastered me and drove me past control.
This sudden foe struck all my courage low;My heart grew thin as the new moon’s first glow.
To you I looked for cure when danger came;Your late arrival set my wrath aflame.
Forgive my haste; repentance burns me sore,I filled my mouth with dust upon the floor.”
Then Rostam said: “The world bends to your will;Your servants, we stand ready to fulfill.
I stand prepared before your royal gate,To do your will and meet the coming fate.”
The Shah said, “Champion, may fortune blessYour heart and spirit always with success.
Let joy return and gladness fill this day;Tonight we feast, tomorrow march to fray.”
He had a royal pleasure-hall made fair,Like springtime gardens filled with scented air.
He called the chiefs and scattered gems around,Then feasted till deep night had veiled the ground.
Silken strings and reed-notes filled the hall,While jasmine-faced attendants served them all.
Their talk recalled the deeds of mighty men;They drank till heart and eye grew dim again.
Each wine-dazed warrior then sought his bed,While weary night dragged on with heavy tread.
B10.15
Gudarz’s Dream of Kay Khosrow
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Soroush appears to Gudarz in a dream and reveals that Kay Khosrow lives in Turan and that only Giv can find him. Gudarz sends Giv on the quest. Giv’s wife, Rostam’s daughter Banu-gashasp, asks leave to visit her father.
41 couplets · Gudarz named 4 times · in the full poem
One night Gudarz beheld a swelling cloud,Rise water-laden from the cloudy shroud.
Upon that flying cloud Soroush drew near,And bade old Gudarz open both his ears:
“Attend: the famed Turk, dragon-like, brings pain;Hear how to break his power and end his reign.
A sovereign now in Turan comes to view;Kay Khosrow is his name, a prince born true.
The son of Siavash, a sovereign born,With honar, famed in gohar, richly worn.
From Kay Qobad his father’s lineage came,Through Tur his mother bore a royal name.
When his blessed foot shall reach Iran’s land,Whatever he asks heaven will grant his hand.
He arms himself, his father’s fall to mourn,And vows the towers of Tur shall lie shorn.
He shall make Qolzum’s waters boil in fight,Nor turn from Afrasiab day or night.
In jowshan, bent on vengeance, he shall ride,In ceaseless battle, to his saddle tied.
Yet none among the chiefs of Iran’s bandShall find him out or bring him to this land,
Save Giv alone; high heaven has decreedThat only he shall find the king you need.
To Giv has turning heaven fixed this call,And through its justice grants him grace withal.”
Gudarz awoke and bowed his aged head,And thanked the God who showed the path ahead.
He rubbed his white beard in the dust below,His heart with hope in the world’s king aglow.
At dawn the sun rose like a golden light;He took his ivory throne, the eyvan bright.
Then summoned Giv with troubled thought and care,And told the dream with weight and solemn air:
“Your steps are blessed, your fortune bright and sure,Your star ascends, both steadfast and secure.
Since your pure-hearted mother gave you birth,Praise and blessing filled the whole of earth.
By God’s command Soroush appeared on high,On wind and rain to wash grief from the sky.
He asked: ‘Why does such grief now multiply?Why vengeance everywhere, the whole world dry?
Because Kavus lacks farr and sovereign might,And strays from kingship’s old and proper right.
But when Kay Khosrow comes from Turan’s land,He turns revenge against the hostile band.
Yet none among the chiefs shall find the heirExcept for you; this charge is yours to bear.’
So heaven points to you; fulfill your part,And lift the grief that weighs on every heart.
You sought for honor long in fields of war;Now greater fame stands waiting at your door.
While men and speech endure, so shall your name;No age can dim or wear away its fame.
Through toil come treasure, honor, and renown;Through toil a humble man may win a crown.
Since none can dwell forever in this place,True fame outlives the fleeting world we face.
You bring a king to claim the rightful throne,And raise the tree of loyalty full-grown.”
Then Giv replied: “My father, I am yours;For you I stand through all that life endures.
If this be so, I gladly take the task;Your blessing is the only boon I ask.”
He rose at once to plan the road ahead,Still pondering the words that Gudarz said.
Now Giv’s own wife was of a lineage high,Born of great Rostam’s blood beneath the sky.
News reached Banu Gashasp without delay:Giv had prepared his horse to ride away.
She came to him and spoke in steady tone:“O fame-seeking chief, hear what I have known.
I hear through Turan you seek Khosrow’s trace;Then grant me leave to journey from this place.
To Rostam’s house I long to make my way,For absence weighs upon my heart each day.
Too long denied the comfort of his sight,My soul has lived in shadow, not in light.
Farewell; may fortune guard you as you go,Stay champions’ support against the foe.”
The chieftain gave consent; she left his side,And set out for Sistan with steady stride.
B12.22
The Turanians Defeat the Iranians
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The armies meet. Houman breaks the Iranian center and Fariborz flees. Giv shames Gudarz into standing firm; Bijan cuts the Kaviani banner in two to bring half of it back. Rivniz son of Kavus is killed, and Bahram saves his crown, but the Iranians are routed with terrible losses.
128 couplets · Gudarz named 9 times · in the full poem
When month’s end brought the promised battle-day,Both armies then turned from the truce to fray,
The soldiers’ shouts rose fierce on every side,And all advanced where battle opened wide.
The karnay, koust, and Indian daray cried,While crested chargers surged in ranks allied.
With reins and swords and bows thrust toward the sky,No gnat could find a narrow path to fly.
With gopal, sword, and spear and buckler drawn,The world seemed swallowed by a dragon’s yawn.
The heavens seemed to bend toward earth below,While earth rose up to meet the sky in woe.
Gudarz’s heir, Giv, led the right-hand wing,A rad and Mobad, marzban for the king.
Upon the left stood Ashkash, battle-tried,Who made the foemen’s blood run like a tide.
Before the central standard’s royal flameStood Fariborz, prince of Kavus by name.
Fariborz told his warriors on the field:“Till now our honar has remained concealed.
Today we fight like lions; make the foeFind all the world too narrow where they go,
Or bear a shame no warrior’s heart should know;Then gorz and Roman helm will mock us so.”
Arrows fell thick through all the autumn air,Like autumn winds that strip the branches bare.
The air seemed filled with vultures wheeling high,While elephants beat earth beneath the sky.
With arrows, gorz, the dust rose thick as night,No bird could find a passage in its flight.
The falchions flashed like diamonds through the dust,And fire from steel broke red through battle’s gust.
The earth seemed black as Zangi face below,While stars like warriors’ hearts appeared to glow.
With gorz and spear and curved swords fiercely plied,A rastakhiz rose vast on every side.
Then Giv rode from the right into the fight,His lips all foam, his war cry at its height.
The noble house of old Gudarz drew near,On them hung gain and loss in battle here.
They fought with shafts and lances fiercely cast,And fire from iron showered thick and fast.
Gudarz fought Piran with a furious hand,And slew nine hundred kinsmen from his band.
When Lahhak and bold Farshidvard beheldGreat clouds of dust above the army swelled,
They charged at Giv, his gorz-men, and his line,With hearts of iron and a grim design.
From chieftains’ bows the shafts fell like a flood,On famed men, jowshan-clad, through dust and blood.
No eye could see the surface of the ground,For heaps of slain lay thickly all around.
Yet no man turned his back before the foe,And none abandoned post beneath the blow.
At last bold Houman said to Farshidvard:“We strike the center now, and strike it hard.
If Fariborz is driven from the field,The center breaks; the right wing soon must yield.
Then we can crush the right wing with our hands,And seize the baggage, treasure, tents, and bands.”
They fell upon the center in their might;Before bold Houman, Fariborz took flight.
The fighting line broke open in dismay;The haughty chiefs gave way and left the fray.
No Iranian warrior held his place;All turned confused and fled before disgrace.
The koust and standard lay abandoned, lone;Their eyes from battle took a purple tone.
They turned their backs before the foeman’s might,And fled headlong in terror from the fight.
The koust, spears, standards fell across the plain;No rider knew his stirrup from his rein.
With blood the mountain and the plain were dyed;The enemy closed in on every side.
Then Fariborz, as foes on all sides pressed,Fled toward the mountain-skirt among the rest.
With him fled all who still remained alive;What life is this, for which the brave still strive?
Gudarz and Giv, with warriors of fame,Still held the field amid the dust and flame.
But when Gudarz beheld the center void,No flag, no Fariborz, no troops deployed,
His heart burned hot; he turned his rein in flight,And Doomsday seized his Gudarzian line that night.
Then Giv said: “Veteran chief, now hear my cry;You faced gopal and gorz where arrows fly.
If now you flee before Piran’s array,Then dust upon my head be poured today.
Of chiefs and seasoned warriors on this earth,Not one will live to speak of name or birth.
For you and me no cure for death remains;Death is the final scourge of mortal pains.
Since now our rugged hour has found us here,The foe should see your face, and not your rear.
I will not leave my post or choose retreat;Let us not shame the dust of Keshvad’s feet.
Have you not heard the ancient saying told,By wise sepahbods and by warriors old:
‘When brothers stand together, back to back,A mountain shrinks to stone beneath attack.’
You stand with seventy fighting sons in sight,And many kin of elephant and lion might.
Let khanjars break the foeman’s heart today,And tear a mountain from its roots away.”
When old Gudarz had heard brave Giv’s appeal,And saw his wakeful kin in helms of steel,
He rued his counsel, rallied once again,And planted firmer feet among his men.
Guraza, Gostaham, and Borteh came,With Zangeh, fierce and brave in battle’s flame.
They swore a heavy oath and pledged their word,With battle in their blood, and dust that stirred:
“Though gorz stream with blood, we still will not yield;Back-to-back, we win our honor on the field.”
They pressed their mounts and drove into the fray,With their mighty gorz ready for the day.
They took their stand; their heavy gorz came down,Full many noble foemen yielded ground.
Yet fortune would not favor Iran’s side;The hostile tide came on in swelling pride.
Then old Gudarz said: “Scion of my line,Ride swiftly as an arrow from this sign.
Take gorz and arrows; ride with all your speed;Go straight to Fariborz in bitter need.
Go, bring the Kaviani standard; rideThrough battle’s darkened air back to our side.
Perhaps Prince Fariborz will join our band,And turn the foeman violet where they stand.”
Bijan heard this and spurred his horse away,Like Azargashasp blazing into day.
He came to Fariborz and cried aloud:“Why hide the army here beneath this cloud?
Take up your reins as warriors have done;Do not stand idle underneath the sun.
But if you will not come, then yield the sign,The riders and bright swords of violet shine.”
But Fariborz, no friend to wisdom then,Cried: “Go away, rash youth among the men!
You are too new to battle and too bold;The Shah gave me this standard to uphold.
The army and the Pahlevan’s rank are mine;The throne and crown with my command combine.
This standard is not yours by any right,Though none beneath the sky surpass your might.”
Then Bijan drew his violet sword and boreIts edge against the standard that he tore.
He split the standard straight across the seam,And seized one half beneath its violet gleam.
He rushed out from the throng with furious speed,And bore the torn standard to his kin in need.
When Turanians saw the standard drawing near,Brave warriors advanced and showed no fear.
They drew their iron axes, swords of blue,To seize the Kaviani standard from his view.
Houman said: “That violet standard flies;Iran’s whole strength and virtue with it rise.
If we can seize it, all the world will close,And crush the Shah beneath the weight of woes.”
Bijan drew back his bowstring with great speed,And loosed his arrows thick as scattered seed.
He drove them back beneath his ceaseless rain,And spread a feast for wolves across the plain.
The horsemen near Giv and Gostaham cried:“The Turanians flee before his arrows’ tide.
Perhaps brave Bijan comes with Iran’s sign,And bears the Kaviani standard to our line.”
Iran’s gorz-bearing chiefs advanced in force;And slew full many a Turanian horse.
Famed Bijan reached them in a rushing tide,And all the chiefs held firm on every side.
Like a fierce lion, he came through blood and dust,The Kaviani standard restored to Iran’s trust.
The soldiers gathered round the royal sign,And riders’ dust turned violet through the line.
Once more Iran’s line advanced into the fight;The foremost rank blazed savage in the light.
There Prince Rivniz, of royal Kavus' strain, Was struck to earth among the heaps of slain.
Not Tus's kin who fell at Kalat's height, This crowned young scion perished in the fight..
When crown and head fell low amid the fight,Full many nobles tore their robes in sight.
Then Giv exclaimed: “O chiefs of noble name,O warriors hardened in the battle-flame!
Prince Fariborz prized Rivniz above all,His hope, the foremost warrior at his call.
Three men have died in misery and pain:Forood, Siavash, Rivniz; all are slain.
What greater wonder can this world still keep?What deeper wound could make the living weep?
We must not let his crown fall to the foe,Or shame through all the army’s lines will flow.
If I withdraw from this embattled ground,Defeat will strike Iran’s whole army round.
That royal crown must never reach their hand,Nor pass from Iran to a Turanian band.
Rivniz’s death has brought us grief and blame;Lose not his crown and heap more shame on shame.”
When noble Piran heard what Giv had cried,Fresh battle round the crown spread far and wide,
On both sides many warriors fell and died,While fortune turned to see Iran’s hopes subside.
Yet Bahram charged, a lion wreathed in flame,And through the press toward that bright circlet came.
He raised the crown upon his spearpoint high,While both sides watched in wonder toward the sky.
The Iranians rejoiced and drew fresh breath,To see the crown reclaimed from hands of death.
The fight grew fiercer; none turned back or fled,They struck each other hard on helm and head.
They raged until the day grew dark and blind,And dust closed over every eye and mind.
Eight of the kin of old Gudarz survived;Of all the rest, not one remained alive.
Of Giv’s own band, full twenty-five men died,Men fit for crowns and royal power and pride.
Of Kavus’s race, full seventy more were slain,All lion-hearted horsemen on the plain.
Rivniz, the crowned prince, stood outside that count;His death was grief no number could surmount.
Nine hundred horsemen from Piran’s own lineWere missing when the day ceased to shine.
Of Afrasiab’s house, three hundred moreHad lost their fortune on the field of gore.
The field, the day, the standard were his right;His star of fortune lit the world that night.
It was no day for Iran’s chiefs to strive;Their warlike hopes could scarcely stay alive.
Their search for combat ended in dismay;They turned their faces from the field away.
They left the wounded lying where they fell,And fled beneath the rout’s great weight, pell-mell.
Now Gostaham had seen his charger slain,As fortune turned against him on the plain.
In jowshan, helm, on foot, spear still in hand,He reeled like one drunk across the bloody land.
When Bijan reached him as the daylight died,He called: “Rise up and mount here at my side.
No living man is dearer in my eyes;Come, share my horse, and from this ruin rise.”
So both of them bestrode a single steed,And sought the mountain-skirt in bitter need.
They left the battle in a routed flight,While darkness gathered on the field that night.
Turanian warriors, joyful in their hearts,Were freed from toil and war’s relentless darts.
They rode to camp, their spirits raised and bright,Prepared to feast after the weary fight.
From Iran’s champions rose a mournful cry,Their grief and lamentation filled the sky.
The koust roared out their sorrow, harsh and clear,Its thunder nearly deafened every ear.
Such is the ancient heaven’s turning way;No remedy can make its wheel delay.
It loves no friend, nor does it spare a foe;Fear Fortune when its lofty head bends low.
B13.9
The Second Battle of Iran and Turan
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At dawn both armies deploy. Houman orders a close-quarters charge, while Tus and Gudarz, greatly outnumbered, put their trust in God. The chiefs are paired off in single combats, and Tus leads his footmen forward.
65 couplets · Gudarz named 6 times · in the full poem
When heaven wore its crown of jet-black night,It scattered shamameh on lapis light.
The pickets hurried out on every side,And set the watch where night and danger hide.
But when the sun rose out of Cancer’s height,The world, like some fair Roman face, turned white.
From both the camps the tabira resounded;The karnay’s cry through all the world rebounded.
The air grew thick with flags of varied light,Red, yellow, black, and violet in sight.
Each warrior drew his sword, his gorz, his spear,And gathered up his reins as war drew near.
Then heaven, time, and earth, before their view,Seemed wrapped in iron as the battle grew.
The shining sun was lost in clouds of dust,Raised by the horsemen’s charge, as battle thrust.
With neighing steeds and koust that shook the sky,High heaven bent and kissed the earth nearby.
Houman rode forth before the ranks arrayed,A flashing dart in hand, his wrath displayed.
He cried: “When I give forth the signal, go;Drive on your chargers; let your fury show.
Draw each your falchion when I give command,And lift your shields of Chin with steady hand.
See only mane and rein before your eyes;Let neither bow nor pointed spear arise.
Use sword and club and heavy gorz in fight,As warriors’ custom teaches men of might.
Cast reins upon your horses’ necks and close;Give blows and take them as the battle goes.”
This said, the gallant horseman, lion-strong,Went straight to wise Piran before the throng.
He cried: “O Pahlevan, unbind the gear;Let every warrior’s weapon now appear.
Keep no dinars locked within your store;Withhold no weapons from the coming war.
If we prevail today, your heart shall knowThe fruit that favoring stars on you bestow.”
Tus on his side set out his ranks to vieIn brightness with a rooster’s vivid eye.
The warriors blessed him, hailed his honored worth,And called him Pahlevan of all the earth.
They praised the valor Tus had shown that day,When dust rose high from Houman in the fray.
Then Tus addressed Gudarz, Keshvad’s great son:“Let all know well before this day is done:
If we march forth and hostile horse prevail,Then all our strength and worldly courage fail.
Put all your trust in Yazdan for this day,And cast all pride and selfhood far away.
Perhaps the Maker lends our swords His aid;If not, our star is dark and hope will fade.
Let chiefs with golden boots remain todayBeside the Kaviani standard in array.
Let no man leave the mountain’s guarded side;This is no hour to meet their rushing tide.
The enemy outnumbers us, in truth,Two hundred times our force of age and youth.”
Gudarz replied: “If God averts our ill,Then great or small, each force obeys His will.
Do not dishearten Iran’s fighting band;The few and many rest in Yazdan’s hand.
If heaven grants us some ill-fortuned day,No cautious pause can turn its course away.
Array the ranks; torment no heart with fear;What must arrive will find us waiting here.”
So Tus, the chieftain, drew the battle-line,With koust and elephants in stern design.
The footmen with the baggage climbed the height;Gudarz took post upon the army’s right.
Rohham and Gorgin held the army’s left;The ranks stood firm, by no disorder cleft.
The koust and karnay made the whole sky quake;High heaven seemed to shift and reel and shake.
The heart of turning heaven seemed torn in two;Dust filled the sun’s own mouth and hid its hue.
No eye could see the face of all the plain;The warriors vanished in the dust-cloud’s train.
Dark clouds rained sparks like diamonds through the air;Fire flashed from helm and sword in battle-glare.
The spearheads gleamed; drawn swords like lightning shone;Above rose standards and whirling gorz thrown.
The air was gorz and iron in the fight;The earth was horseshoes, jowshan packed in sight.
The plains and valleys ran with warrior blood;The swords were lamps across a midnight flood.
None knew the head from foot amid the sound,As koust and karnay shook the battleground.
Tus said to old Gudarz: “Now night draws near;The astrologer once made this warning clear:
‘Until the third watch of this night is past,The warriors’ swords will keep on raining fast.
Like blackened clouds their swords will rain down blood,And drench the battlefield beneath the flood.
I fear when all this bloody work is done,Turan’s avenging ranks may prove they won.’”
Shidush, Rohham, Giv, Gostaham drew near,With Kharrad, brave Farhad, and Barzin dear.
Between the armies they advanced as one,Their livers wounded, vengeance made them run.
Like troops of Divs upon a murky night,They came as battle-din assailed the height.
Houman led forth his mountain-heavy force,Troop after troop advanced along its course.
With gorz and mallet, sword and spear displayed,No eye could tell where rein or stirrup swayed.
Then man with man was chosen for the field,Each named to test what sword and gorz might yield.
Guraza, chief of Givgan’s valiant band,Met Nahl, two lion-hearts with sword in hand.
Rohham, Gudarz’s son, strode forth to fightWith Farshidvard; Shidush faced Lahhak’s might.
Then Bijan, son of Giv, met Kulbad’s ire;They rushed through darkened air like wind and fire.
Renowned Giv faced Shatrakh in the fray;Two noble chiefs prepared to test the day.
Gudarz met Piran; Houman faced Tus too;No pause or doubt restrained what they would do.
Tus said: “Today must not conclude the sameAs yesterday’s hard clash of steel and flame.
We must sweep every foeman from the land,So none survives to raise avenging hand.”
Then Tus advanced with footmen to the plain,With elephants and koust behind his train.
Before the horse stood shielded ranks in line,With zhupin-men and spears in strict design.
“Hold fast your posts; do not give up your ground;Bring shield and spear before you all around.
Now let us see,” he said, “what strength they wield,And how all their massive gorz rule the field.”
C3.3
Kay Khosrow Sends Gudarz against Turan
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Warned that Turan is massing, Kay Khosrow takes counsel, pays and arms his troops, and sends out four armies: Rostam to Sistan and Hind, Lohrasp westward, Ashkash to Khwarazm against Shideh, and Gudarz against Piran, with careful orders on conduct.
90 couplets · Gudarz named 6 times · in the full poem
Then tidings reached the conquering Shah’s ear:“A Turkish force in arms is drawing near.
Afrasiab, that tyrant steeped in spite,Can find no rest by day or sleep by night.
He seeks to lift his head and hide disgrace,And gathers troops from every distant place.
He grinds sharp poison for his lance’s head,And aims his rein where Iran’s borders spread.
Three hundred thousand warlike horsemen mustCross the Jihun with lifted spears and dust.
In battle-time their dust will climb the sky;From Jihun’s banks it surges up on high.
The warriors at Afrasiab’s palace keepAwake; the tabira’s din denies them sleep.
With shaypur blasts and daray ringing loud,Fear seized each heart throughout the gathered crowd.
If that great army comes to us to fight,No lion, though strong, will withstand its might.
He gave Piran the frontier of Turan,With no small army for that Pahlevan.
And fifty thousand, armed for battle, massed,Have marched toward Khwarazm, their numbers vast.
Their chief is Shideh of the lion-heart,Whose scimitar could tear fire’s core apart.
His troops are like mad elephants in strife,That level mountains as they charge for life.”
The monarch heard and sat absorbed in thought,Weighing the news his watchful agents brought.
Then said, “Wise men, I heard Mobadan sayThese words, which bear upon our news today:
‘The Turkish moon may climb the heavens bright,But from Iran’s sun it will suffer blight.
Strike the black snake that rises from its bed,And lifts toward the cudgel its poison head.
The king who plants injustice as a treeWill see his throne and kingship turn and flee.’”
He summoned the learned Mobadan near,And laid before them what had reached his ear.
The chiefs and warlike sages came to shareThe king’s close council and his weight of care.
There Zal and Rostam came in royal pride,Gudarz and Giv took counsel at their side.
Shidush and Rohham, Farhad, brave and wise,Sat with the chiefs to hear the king’s replies.
Bijan and Gostaham, Gorgin all cameWith Zangeh, Gazhdaham, to share the aim.
Great Tus, son of Nohzar, came with his train,And Fariborz, of Kavus’s royal vein.
All other nobles of the court stood by,The monarch’s flock, assembled under his eye.
He told the Pahlevans: “The Turks now dareTo seek the crown and throne; for these they prepare.
The foe has massed his troops, his claws are bared;We too must go to battle well prepared.”
He gave command; before his palace-gateHorns, gavdam, brazen khom proclaimed his state.
He left the palace for the open ground;His throne upon an elephant was bound.
Upon that elephant, the Shah struck loudThe sounding bowl before the gathered crowd.
The earth seemed coated with an indigo stain,Dark blue across the gathering ranks and plain.
The air turned blue; earth shone in colors bright,The warriors moved like leopards in their might.
With gorzes gripped, their wrathful ranks took form;The land surged like a sea beneath a storm.
A proclamation from the court was cried:“O Pahlevans of Iran, far and wide,
No man who knows the stirrup and the reinMay sit at home for comfort or for gain.”
The Shah called chosen horsemen to his side,From Rum and Hind, with chiefs of proven pride.
And Arab champions, ready for the fight,Like raging lions, armed in all their might.
“Three hundred thousand, girded, I command,From the spear-bearing horsemen’s desert land.
Who fails in forty days to join my trainShall wear no crown hereafter in my reign.”
They sent out riders with the royal writThrough every side where loyal horsemen sit.
Two weeks went by; throughout the realm at largeTroops moved in answer to the royal charge.
The country seethed with armies in their might;The world rang out with tumult at the sight.
At cockcrow, koust rang out on every side,Their thunder sounded through the country wide.
The chiefs of every province led their trainToward the royal gate across the plain.
He opened ancient treasures, rich and old,And paid the army silver coins and gold.
From all the Shah’s great wealth, the troops were paid,And golden crowns upon their heads were laid.
With bargostvan and jowshan all arrayed,An iron-bodied mountain stood displayed.
When all the army’s needs had been supplied,The Shah set every care for them aside.
From that great army, he chose a mounted band,Thirty thousand, each with a sword in hand.
To Rostam he entrusted all that might,And turned to speak before the men of fight.
He said, “Famed hero, lead this force awayTo Sistan and to Hind without delay.
From Ghaznin take the upper road, and gainThe crown and throne and signet of that reign.
Give Faramarz the crown and signet there,With troops he chooses left within his care.
When you have won the realm and fashioned peace,So leopard and lamb may drink while conflicts cease,
Then sound the brazen koust with all your might;Let shaypur sound and ney ring clear and bright.
In Kashmir and in Kabul, do not stay;No longer linger; take the homeward way.
This war with Afrasiab gives no release;I find no food, no sleep, no rest or peace.”
Lohrasp received Alanons, Garcha’s land,And set that charge within the hero’s hand.
To Lohrasp, warrior born of royal race,He turned and spoke before him, face to face:
He said, “Choose seasoned riders from the lines,A mountain-force beneath its battle signs.
Lead hardened horsemen out to meet the foe,And bring the enemy to grief and woe.”
He bade Ashkash lead thirty thousand horse,Armed with the spear, a lion-hearted force.
His wolf-like troops to Khwarazm took their way,And bore the mighty koust in their array.
He bade him camp before Khwarazm’s walls,And fight Shideh, who ruled within its halls.
The fourth great army he gave Gudarz to lead,With much advice for every coming need.
“Go with the great men of Iran in pride,With Zangeh, Gorgin, Gostaham beside.
Take Fariborz, Kavus’s son, with you,And Farhad, Giv, Guraza, bold Shapur too.”
He bade them arm themselves for battle’s fray,And hasten to Turan without delay.
Gudarz, the son of Keshvad, seasoned, shrewd,Stood with the chiefs in stern and martial mood.
They heard and mounted at the king’s command,Gudarz rode at the head of every band.
The Shah then said, “You now are bound for fight;Girded for war, keep this command in sight:
Take care you do no wrongful deed by might;Destroy no thriving home in battle’s spite.
Stretch out no hand to evil, earn no blame;Remember house and honor, name and shame.
Who does not gird himself to fight your train,Let him receive from you no harm or pain.
For God approves no evil that we do;We do not stay here but are passing through.
In leading forth the army to Turan,Keep cool your heart, O seasoned Pahlevan.
Do not grow rash like Tus at every slightAnd mount the koust on elephants for fight.
Be just in every deed, however small;Remember God, whose gifts bring good to all.
Send to Piran a veteran, wise and keen,Who keeps in mind the things that he has seen.
With ample counsel, open wide his ear;Let him attend the words that he must hear.
Then spread the cloak of kindness over him;Let no harsh word that gentle covering dim.”
Gudarz replied, “Your word stands high and bright,Above the sun and moon in all their light.
I go exactly as you bid me go;You are my Shah, and I your servant low.”
Ahead, full sixty elephants now strode;Their heavy tread made earth bend to the load.
Four mighty elephants, his chosen best,The Shah in royal trappings had them dressed.
Upon their backs they set a throne of gold,A seat of royal glory to behold.
He bade Gudarz mount up, and there be seenUpon the golden throne, in royal sheen.
He stirred the elephants; their dust rose high,And read good fortune in that clouded sky.
“From Piran’s house we will make the smoke ascend,Like dust these elephants behind them send.”
By Khosrow’s order, stage by stage they went;No harm was done wherever troops were sent.
C3.11
Houman Challenges Gudarz
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Houman comes to Gudarz himself and mocks him for hiding behind a mountain. Gudarz refuses to be drawn, reasoning that a victory would only keep Piran in his ambush. Houman rides off, shoots four of the guard, and boasts on the heights while Gudarz burns with shame.
76 couplets · Gudarz named 9 times · in the full poem
From Fariborz, Houman turned away,Like a malignant Div intent to slay.
Still bent on vengeance against Iran’s band,He came before Gudarz and made his stand.
He shouted, “Binder of the Div, give ear;Now hear the charge that Houman brings you here.
I heard your counsel in the royal hall,And how you led the Shah’s men, one and all.
I heard of all his gifts and your command,Your terms to Piran, chief of Turan’s land.
Your envoy reached the ranks of old Piran;Your son, the warrior Giv, a Pahlevan.
And afterward you swore by royal light,By sun and moon, by throne and crown in sight:
‘If ever I behold Piran in strife,I shall cut short the measure of his life.’
Fierce as a lion you have ranked your powers,And thirsted for the fight through waiting hours.
Then why crouch back behind that mountain chain,Like timid mountain sheep that fear the plain?
So does the hunted quarry flee in fright,Before the lion’s overwhelming might.
It seeks a narrow woodland hiding-place,And fears for life, forgetting all disgrace.
Lead forth your battle-lines into the field;Why keep your men behind the heights concealed?
Was this your understanding with Khosrow:To make a hill your stronghold from the foe?”
Gudarz replied, “Consider what you say:Are these fit words to speak to me today?
When you receive your answer from us here,The folly of your charge will then be clear.
Know that I acted at the Shah’s command;My oath and pledge were what his will had planned.
But now I stand with Iran’s chosen force,With chiefs whose courage guides the army’s course.
You hide like some old fox among the trees,That quakes whenever it the hunter sees.
You practice cunning, artifice, and guile,To flee from gorz, spear, kamand all the while.
Do not boast here or challenge us in scorn,For foxes cannot stand where lions are born.”
When Houman heard what old Gudarz replied,He raged like a lion on the other side.
He answered, “You refuse to face my might,But not because you deem it shame to fight.
Since Pashan’s field and that disastrous day,You shun the men of Turan in the fray.
You praised me once at Ladan on the field,And knew the strength my sword and arm could wield.
So if the truth is even as you say,And you would make your words come true today,
Choose from your troops some champion of name,To counter me upon the field of fame.
Like a fierce nahang, I called out to fightBoth Rohham and Fariborz in their might.
I passed along before your ranks in pride,And not one warrior stirred from either side.
They said Gudarz forbade them from the fray;Their empty boasts were all they gave today.
But you are he who said, ‘My khanjar’s mightWill raise red tulips on the yellow height.’
Now you yourself, your heavy gorz held high,Must meet me here before the army’s eye.
You have brave sons renowned throughout the land,And each is armed and waiting your command.
Set one of them against me if you dare;Why this delay if war is what you swear?”
Gudarz considered, “Which among my menShould go to face this challenger, and when?
If I send out some famous chief today,Some raging lion eager for the fray,
And Houman falls beneath that warrior’s hand,No Turkish chief will leave his guarded stand.
Piran will writhe with anguish in his heart,And hold his gathered army back, apart.
His troops will seek Mount Kanabad again;Then disadvantage will attend our men.
Yet if one noble of my chiefs is slain,My fame will suffer and my men feel pain.
Despair would break the hearts of all my band,And none would have the will to take a stand.
Best not engage; best foil the ambush-snare,Until their restless troops forsake their lair.
At last they may advance to battle’s plain,And leave the narrow ground where they remain.”
Then to Houman he said, “Now take your way;Fierce in your words, not tested in the fray.
Your speech has shown your nature through and through;Your hidden mind lies open now to view.
No Turk possesses wisdom in his breastTo find within his thoughts a place of rest.
Do you not know a lion will disdainTo stain its claws with fox-blood on the plain?
Besides, both armies stand in battle-pride,Their swift steeds holding heads high, side by side.
Every chief would gnaw his hands in shame,If two alone were sent to win the name.
Let all advance; let side with side contend,And let the field be opened end to end.
Go back now to your line and lift your head;Before your own sepahbod boast instead:
‘I challenged all the warriors in their line,But cold wind was the only answer mine.’
Your boasting here will raise your battle-name,And Piran grant the wishes that you claim.”
Houman exclaimed, “What chieftains then are these?What warriors, hiding under cautious pleas?
I now recall the saying of a king,Who knew the turns that worldly fortunes bring:
‘Seek not the Kayanian throne; but if desireShould lead you there, do not turn back from fire.’
You do not wish for war; this truth is sworn:The path to pluck a rose is lined with thorn.
You have no lion-hearted chief in sightTo meet me here before the troops in fight.
You seek through guile to send me from the fray;I know your tricks and will not be their prey.”
The warlike chiefs then told Gudarz their view:“Accept his challenge: this we urge on you.
Send one of us to face him on the plain,To meet his challenge and avenge this stain.”
Gudarz replied, “Today no man shall goTo fight this battle with the waiting foe.”
Then Houman turned away, his anger high,And raged like a brave lion standing by.
He laughed, turned from the chief, and spurred his steedToward the army’s guards with reckless speed.
Within the meadow, Houman strung his bow,And shot four riders from their saddles low.
The guards who saw his shots from far awayBeheld the proud Turanian’s deadly play.
They gave him passage, fled across the plain,And would not face him or draw tight the rein.
He climbed the heights as if with wine possessed,And roared as though to level every crest.
He whirled his spear above his head to say,“Houman, son of Viseh, wins the day!”
The brazen ney resounded from below,As on the height his spear swung to and fro.
Turan’s bold warriors, joyful at the sight,Seemed with their helms to touch the moon’s great height.
When Houman came away with such proud scorn,Gudarz was wrung by what his men had borne.
The chief grew dark with shame at what had passed;Wrath and fierce anger held his spirit fast.
Shame drew the sweat from warriors standing near;Gudarz then read the stars to make things clear.
The foe had struck the first blow on the plain;That blood foretold disaster in their train.
Then he surveyed the champions in his band,To see who would face Houman, hand to hand.
C3.21
Gudarz Replies to Piran
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On the eighth day Gudarz dictates his answer and refuses point by point: Piran’s heart and tongue are strangers, the feud reaches back to Iraj, seventy sons are unavenged, the lands are already taken. Ruyin carries it home; Piran hides it and calls his troops to arms.
150 couplets · Gudarz named 6 times · in the full poem
Upon the eighth day, at the dawn’s first light,Gudarz called in the scribe and bade him write.
The scribe began; with every stroke he drew,A tree of vengeance in the answer grew.
He first gave praise to God, then turned to stateHis answer to each point of their debate.
“Your letter I have read from end to end,And heard each word that you have wished to send.
And Ruyin brought your message to my side,Each matter that you charged him to confide.
I marvel that you write such gracious things,And at the honeyed words your letter brings.
Your heart and tongue are neighbors far apart;Your soul has gained no wisdom for its part.
In every matter you speak fair and wise,With phrases rich in grace before men’s eyes.
Whoever lacks true wisdom might believeYour goodwill and the web your words can weave.
You are like salt ground glittering in the sun,That seems like water to a distant one.
But lies and tricks avail no warrior’s hand,When gorz and sword and kamand fill the land.
I want no dealings now but war with you;This is no hour for parleys to renew.
No time for league, for love, or painted speech,But time to learn what heaven’s signs will teach.
We watch to whom God grants the conquering sun,And strength and fortune when the fight is done.
Still hear me now, and let wise counsel guide;Let wisdom lead good fortune at your side.
First, you have said: ‘Through kindness and through fearOf God and resurrection drawing near,
I do not wish to stir this bitter fight;My heart is cramped by all this wrongful plight.’
Your tongue and heart were never joined as one,Though honeyed phrases from your mouth have run.
If justice had possessed your heart and breath,You would not first have led the road to death.
When Giv first came with nobles, grave and wise,And laid his peaceful counsel before your eyes,
With prudent words and honorable speech,You raised war’s iron wall beyond their reach.
You armed your army for this bitter fight,And left your land to violate our right.
In every clash, aggression was your will;You moved your troops, intent on bloodshed still.
Had wisdom come before you took this way,You would have found more peace at last today.
Your evil nature, bent on crooked gain,Has driven you from wisdom’s level plain.
The nature of your race was formed in guile,And treachery has marked it all the while.
You know how high-born Iraj met his doom,When Tur envied his crown and royal room.
You know what evil Tur and Salm began,And how injustice spread through every clan.
You know how vengeance spread through field and throne,And grief made Fereydoon’s long anguish known.
He cursed them ceaselessly with wounded breath,His heart laid open by his loved son’s death.
The Giver’s aid sustained him day by day;He nursed that vengeance, would not turn away.
Long ages passed; that foul inherited strainReached Afrasiab through a lawless chain.
He sought revenge on Manuchehr, made warOn Nohzar, Kay Qobad, and Iran’s shore.
You know what wrong he did to Kavus’s crown,And how he ground our prosperous Iran down.
At last, with guiltless Siavash’s blood,He laid new feud’s foundation in a flood.
You had no thought of justice on that day,When blameless Siavash gave life away.
How many chiefs of Iran, crowned with state,Have fallen in this feud through Turkish hate.
You next have said: ‘Old man with whitening hair,How long will you stay armed, your blade laid bare?’
Know this, old deceiver, tried by time,Who saw life’s rise and fall through every crime:
God gave me length of days and fortune bright,That I might avenge Iran in open fight.
I mean to send the dust from Turan high,Until its cloud ascends toward the sky.
My only fear is God may end my breath,And part my soul and body through my death,
Before I win the vengeance I have planned,And set my feet upon your conquered land.
You thirdly say: ‘I see no holy aweOf God in you, no reverence for His law.’
Do you not know that wanton blood will turnAgainst the man who lets destruction burn?
If gentle words should make me quit the fight,And turn me from the vengeance that is right,
God would inquire how I had spent my days,And ask me to account for all my ways:
‘I gave you leadership and strength to stand,With wisdom, wealth, and valor at command.
Why did you fail before Iran’s arrayTo arm for Siavash and make foes pay?’
And when the Judge asks of my seventy sons,Those noble lives cut off like setting suns,
How shall I answer Him who made the world,If fear or charm had kept my banner furled?
The fourth point that you raised, O aged chief,Was Siavash, the source of all this grief.
You said: ‘For one whose body turns to clay,You should not take the living soul away.’
Remember all the foul deeds you have done,And griefs that darkened Iran’s royal sun.
Remember wrongs you wrought throughout our land,And monarchs ruined by Turan’s command.
What treaties you have broken, feuds begun,What paths toward evil you have always run.
How can I think of this and grant release,When all your faithless deeds have murdered peace?
Fifth, you say: ‘I shall covenant with you;The chiefs of Turan shall be hostages too.
I shall send Khosrow wealth and end this toil,And close the road to suffering on our soil.’
Know then, sepahbod of the Turkish land,Our Shah has given us a different command.
He ordered me to grapple to the deathAnd shed your blood for Siavash’s last breath.
If I refuse to do as Khosrow bade,My soul before its Maker stands dismayed.
If you still hope Khosrow will turn to peace,And through these words bid all his anger cease,
Send all the wealth and hostages you name,With Lahhak and with Ruyin of your fame.
Send them at once to Khosrow; let them rideTo Iran, where the road stands open wide.
Sixth, you have named Iran’s fair towns and lands,Its prosperous realm, to pass into our hands.
You said: ‘To Khosrow I shall yield them all,And all my scattered troops I shall recall.’
But God has seized them first; and if you knowNo word of this, the truth I now shall show.
Lohrasp has taken all the western side,As far as Khazar’s marches spreading wide.
Southward to Sind, the whole realm is arrayedIn gleaming iron like a polished blade.
Brave Rostam, with his sharp and trenchant sword,Has raised a day of doom on every horde.
Rostam sent Hind’s chief to the Shah that day,His sable standard borne along the way.
In Dehestan, Khwarazm, and all that groundWhere Turkish raiders raised their heads around,
The desert has been cleared of all their band;Our troops now ride on toward Bakhtar’s land.
Ashkash rained hail on Shideh in the fight,And brought him near to death beneath his might.
He sent Khosrow the captives and the spoil,And purged the region of its war and toil.
Now here the contest lies between us two,Where honor or disgrace awaits our view.
In battle you have seen the strength they show,Those famous chiefs whose prowess well you know.
Come meet me face to face, and you shall see:I shall release you from this talk with me.
By God’s own power and the Shah’s command,I shall sink this whole field in blood and sand.
Observe, famed captain of the Turkish side,The sun and moon beneath which hopes have died.
Heaven has nearly bound you fast and bare;Your fortune’s head is set within the snare.
Mark what the Maker lays upon your headFor evil deeds and all the blood you shed.
Time has revealed your crimes beneath the sky,And evil now repays each former lie.
Be heedful now; open your ears and learnWhat wise men say before the seasons turn.
These famous ranks, a hundred thousand strong,Will not be charmed from vengeance for your wrong.
They all seek honor, vengeance, war’s red field,And no sweet phrase can make their purpose yield.
I reach the seventh point: by oath you tryTo prove your truth beneath the watchful sky.
I will not speak of further bonds with you;Your soul will buy no wisdom, old or new.
For every man with whom you swear in trustWill find you break that faith and turn it dust.
Your oath brought Siavash to grief and death;Let no man trust the promise of your breath.
You did not save him on his evil day,Though in distress he called you every way.
The eighth point: you have said, ‘My crown and throne,My fortune, troops, and valor top your own.
I hold more treasure, men, and warlike fame,Yet love torments my heart despite my claim.’
I think you tested me in war before;You know whether I failed when battles tore.
Look once again, and judge me from the start,In every skill and in the warrior’s art.
In treasure, fortune, crown and throne, compare;Perhaps I stand above you everywhere.
And lastly you have said: ‘Choose men to fight,A few brave champions, proven in their might.
I too will choose from Turan’s mounted menThe warriors fit to face your champions then.
From tenderness toward troops I do not seekTo spread revenge against the worn and weak.’
You put compassion forward as your plea;Your hidden heart and purpose you can see.
The Shah, the ruler of the world, would blameMy act, if I withdrew our troops in shame.
You also asked that I should meet you here,And face you on this plain with sword and spear.
Before me stands a guilty force in arms,That filled Iran with grief and war’s alarms.
The Shah will never let me shun the fight,Or turn from vengeance when our cause is right.
First, let our armies meet upon this ground,Like mountains crashing with a mighty sound.
Let both our armies form their ranks and strive;Perhaps we then shall see which side will thrive.
If not, we bring those champions to the field,And make a place where prowess is revealed.
My word shall stand, though yours may break in two;I know how little oaths have meant to you.
But if your present force cannot withstandMy men, then ask your king for a stronger band.
Consider carefully your state and need,And weigh the course by which you would proceed.
As for the wounded absent from the ranks,Among your kin, allies, and warrior flanks,
Wait till the healers make them whole and strong;A brief delay need not detain you long.
If you wish for delay and time to heal,Then speak it plainly; otherwise, draw steel.
I offer this so, on the battle-day,You cannot find excuse enough to say:
‘You fell upon us suddenly and pressed;You ambushed us and gave no time to rest.’
If I seek vengeance for a hundred years,Or now at once, the same resolve appears.
There is no hope that I shall quit the fight;For sightless eyes, alike are day and night.”
When that reply was finished and made clear,The fairy-faced young envoy then drew near.
His belt secured, he rode his rapid steed,With mounted men around him, fit for deed.
Then Ruyin left his saddle on the plain,And brought before Gudarz his mounted train.
Gudarz then called the Mobadan to hear,And courtly sages gathered quickly near.
Wise men and shrewd came swiftly to his side,With clear and ready minds to hear and guide.
Before the chiefs, Gudarz then gave the word:“Let all the answer I have written be heard.”
The great men heard the cogent answer read,Recited by the scribe, as custom led.
They judged the wisdom of Piran as slight,And held his offered counsel thin and light.
They praised Gudarz and hailed his honored name,The chosen Pahlevan of deathless fame.
He sealed the letter, gave it to the sonOf Piran, sprung from Viseh, honored one.
When Ruyin rose to go, he bade them bringA robe of honor fitting for a king.
Arab steeds with golden trappings came,With crowns and swords in golden sheaths aflame.
His comrades too received both silver brightAnd gold, with caps and belts as each had right.
Then Ruyin mounted on his rapid horse,And led his escort back toward Piran’s force.
When Ruyin reached his father’s camp, his bandWent with him to the chief who held command.
He bowed before the throne with lowered face;Piran received him in a close embrace.
He gave Iran’s sepahbod’s words their due,And told of all the army in his view.
A scribe read out the letter, word by word;Piran’s heart blackened at the news he heard.
His heart was full of pain, his soul of fear;He knew a harsh descent was drawing near.
He chose restraint and silence in that hour,And hid the message from his gathered power.
Then to the troops he said: “Gudarz will yieldNo change of heart, no peace upon this field.
For all the blood of seventy sons once dear,His heart will find no rest from vengeance here.
If he, recalling what has passed away,Renews this ancient hatred day by day,
Why should I not gird on my arms to fight,Avenging my lost brothers with my might?
And for nine hundred chiefs whose blood was shed,Whose bodies in the battle lost each head?
In all the lands of Turan none can rideTo war like Houman, with his strength and pride.
And Nastihan, that cypress spreading shade,Who vanished from the ranks where warriors stayed.
Now we must gird for battle, sword in hand;I shall not leave the Iranians our land.
By God’s great power, my sword shall end their might,And raise the Day of Doom before their sight.”
He chose the fitting horses from his herds,And brought them to the troops to match his words.
He mounted all the footmen for the fray,And gave each rider two steeds on that day.
He opened up the doors of ancient stores,And gave dinars and wealth in lavish scores.
C3.39
Gudarz Battles Piran
👴👴🐎⚔️🛡️🏹🎯🐎💀⬇️💔👴🏃⛰️🗣️🕊️🚫👴🗡️🩸🎯💀😢🚩⛔🗡️26 emoji · the whole poem in emoji →
With no Turanian left, the two old chiefs fight. Gudarz’s arrow kills Piran’s horse, which falls and breaks his arm; he climbs the hill and refuses quarter. Gudarz follows on foot, takes a khanjar wound in the arm, and kills him with a javelin through the liver.
64 couplets · Gudarz named 7 times · in the full poem
When nine full hours of daylight had gone by,No other Turkish champion came to vie.
Their souls were severed from their bodies, torn;The world looked on, and did not stop to mourn.
The world may tend one man with patient love,And grant him years beneath the vault above;
Then raid his joy, as night-raids strike a foe,And bring him grief and hardship, blow on blow.
From first to last, the wind bears all away;We call it justice; wrong stands plain as day.
When in those luckless fights Turan had bled,And every hope of victory had fled,
Piran looked out across the field of fight;No Turkish horseman stood within his sight.
The leaders then of Iran and TuranAdvanced together, each a Pahlevan.
They came for grim revenge across the plain,With grief in heart and vengeance in the brain.
The two old warriors stood fiercely arrayed;Dust veiled the sun and cast the field in shade.
They tested every weapon hand to hand,With sword and khanjar, gorz, and with kamand.
The turn ordained by God now crossed the plain;On Turan fell the weight of Iran’s pain.
Against that will Piran could not contend;No stratagem could turn aside that end.
His steed beneath him faltered in the fight;Its failing limbs could give no further might.
Piran saw clearly how his fortune stood,And knew that heaven had withdrawn its good.
Yet still he bore himself with fearless breath,And strove against the shadow of his death.
The two old chiefs, both shrewd and seasoned men,Took up their bows and arrows once again.
Gudarz chose out a poplar shaft of might,No iron plate nor stone could stop its flight.
He shot with force and struck Piran’s steed;The arrow pierced its armor with great speed.
The stricken charger shuddered, drawing breath,Then crashed to earth beneath the weight of death.
Piran went crashing down beneath the horse.The rider struggled, trapped, crushed by its force.
His right arm broke beneath the crushing weight;He rolled, still struggling with the stroke of fate.
He rose upon his feet, though well he knewHis final hour had now come into view.
He knew he could not flee that darkened day,Yet from Gudarz he turned and fled away.
He climbed the hill, distressed by wound and flight,And hoped Gudarz would leave him on the height.
Gudarz looked on, and bitter tears ran clear;The turns of fortune filled his heart with fear.
He knew the tyrant wheel’s deceitful art,How faithless, ever armed to wound the heart.
He cried: “Great Pahlevan, how can it beYou flee on foot like hunted game from me?
Where are your troops, O captain of the field?Where are your arms, your manhood, sword, and shield?
Where are your treasure, wisdom, troops, and fame,O prop of Afrasiab’s royal name?
The sun lowers darkly on your king today;From you has fortune turned her face away.
No room for guile remains; attempt it not.Ask quarter now, since this has come by lot.
I shall convey you living to his hall;The Shah may spare you and forgive it all.
Like me, your hair is silvered now with age;Your years may move him to restrain his rage.”
Piran replied, “Now God forbid that shame;May no such evil stain my honored name.
May I not live to beg you for my breath;A noble heart would sooner welcome death.
Since born for death, my neck I freely layBefore you in this contest here today.
A saying I have heard from men of worth:‘However long you dwell in joy on earth,
The end is death; no path can lead you clearOf that last hour, though long you linger here.’
Then lay no blame upon me at my end;No man can turn the fate he must attend.”
Gudarz rode round but found no upward way,The search had worn him out with long delay.
He left his horse and took his shield to goLike some determined hunter toward his foe.
His shield held forward, javelin in hand,He climbed the height above the lower land.
Piran watched him approach, his foe in sight;He sprang down from a rock to meet the fight.
He hurled his khanjar, arrow-swift in flight;It struck Gudarz’s arm upon the height.
The wounded chieftain wheeled to face his foe;He felt his anger blaze and fiercer grow.
He hurled his javelin; its iron headStruck Piran’s breast and through his armor sped.
It pierced his liver and came out behind;Piran reeled back, with darkness in his mind.
His liver’s blood poured from his mouth; he died,His soul gone to his fallen comrades’ side.
Like some fierce lion, headlong down he crashed;The javelin’s steel had left his liver gashed.
Upon the flinty rock he writhed in pain,Then rested from revenge and battle’s strain.
Thus fortune changes sides from day to day,And hears not what advisers have to say.
With poisoned claws, it tears the flesh apartThe leopard’s hide and lion’s mighty heart.
Gudarz climbed to the summit; Piran layBefore him, dead and humbled on the clay.
His heart and arm were broken; on the fieldHis head lay low, in spreading dust concealed.
His armor had been torn and split in strife;His belt lay broken with his ended life.
“O lion, chief and warrior bold,” he said,“Great horseman, now among the fallen dead,
The world has seen so many like us two;It rests with neither me nor men like you.”
He took the blood the fallen chief had bled,And drank, and on his face its stain he spread.
For Siavash’s blood he raised a cry,And prayed to Him who rules the earth and sky.
For seventy beloved sons laid low,He mourned before the Judge who saw his woe.
He wished to cut the fallen warrior’s head,But then he shrank from such wrong to the dead.
He set a banner by the corpse and laidThe warrior’s head beneath its spreading shade.
He turned toward his army down below;Blood streamed from his arm like a river’s flow.
C3.40
Gudarz Returns from Battle
👥🐎🪢💀👴❓😰😢🏇🧭👴🛡️🏳️👥🏆👑🐘🚩18 emoji · the whole poem in emoji →
The Iranians come down with their dead and fear Gudarz has fallen, until his banner appears. He tells his story and sends Rohham to fetch Piran’s body untouched. As they reach camp, the watchman on Raibad reports Kay Khosrow approaching with elephants and banners.
51 couplets · Gudarz named 6 times · in the full poem
Meanwhile Iran’s avenging warriors cameDown from the hill, each flushed with battle’s flame.
Their slain opponents, bound by war’s command,Were strapped on saddles, borne from bloodied land.
Since Pahlevan Gudarz was not in sight,From all the army rose a cry of fright:
“Has age betrayed Gudarz upon the plain?Has fierce Piran now left him with the slain?”
The troops wept, with no sign of their old chief,Their hearts bowed down beneath the weight of grief.
They saw his flag come streaming from the field;The drifting dust its folds no more concealed.
Then from the camp the kousts began to sound;Dust kissed the sky above the trampled ground.
The great men smiled and joyfully advanced,To meet him where his lifted standard danced.
Yet still the army questioned what had passed:“Perhaps he turned from Piran, heart downcast.
For Piran was a lion, fierce and strong,Who sought the field of battle all life long.”
Gudarz addressed the warriors gathered near;And every man gave him attentive ear.
He told them how his fortune had been tried,And showed the place where he and Piran vied.
He bade brave Rohham mount and bring the slain;The warrior girt himself and took the rein.
“Go fetch Piran and bind him to his steed,Then bring him from the height with watchful heed.
Bring back his arms and banner from the place;Disturb no part about his waist or face.”
As Gudarz bade, brave Rohham rode away,Swift as the wind, without the least delay.
He laid Piran’s body on the horse,His jowshan drenched with blood from battle’s course.
He bound him with his kamand, firm and fast,And brought him down to them, the combat past.
The chiefs beheld the banner from the height,Brought down from where it stood to mark the fight.
They blessed the chief of Pahlevans and cried,“O backbone of Iran, our strength and pride,
May heaven’s moon bow low before your throne,And wait upon the seat you call your own.
For all the troops you risked your life and breath,And in old age stood face to face with death.”
Gudarz addressed the chiefs upon the plain:“When heavy fighting brought us such great strain,
I feared Afrasiab might bring his forceAcross the water to renew war’s course.
His troops have rested from the strain of fight,While haste and battle drain my soldiers’ might.
So I dispatched a prudent man to pleadBefore the Shah my counsel and my need.
I said, ‘If Turan’s king should cross in force,We cannot hold this field against his course.’
I thought the world’s great Shah would soon appear,Arriving suddenly to join us here.
His royal glory would light up the plain,With fresh troops keen to join the fierce campaign.
Across this field of vengeance and of pain,Keep on their saddles all these warriors slain.
Our hearts are free from care through their defeat;For Siavash’s soul, this victory is sweet.
If thus we bring them to our sovereign’s sight,He will rejoice and raise us to new height.
These men sowed strife between us, far and wide;Their fall has checked the turmoil on each side.
When Khosrow comes, with God to aid his hand,No Turk shall then be left alive to stand.”
All praised him: “May earth never lack your name;May time preserve the splendor of your fame.
Whatever good we gain, your words supply;Your face gives light to moon and sun on high.”
They bore the slain just as the chief had said,While Gurvi ran beside them, bound, not dead.
A kamand bound his hands behind his back,His neck was haltered as they took the track.
As soon as they approached the waiting camp,The troops came forth; the ground rang with their tramp.
With Gostaham the Lion at their head,They came to meet the chief whom fortune led.
He bowed his head before Gudarz the brave,Then kissed the earth, and words of welcome gave:
“See, I have kept the army safe and sound,True to the charge by which you held me bound.”
While still they spoke, a watchman’s voice rang clear;From Mount Raibad his cry reached every ear:
“The dust has made the plain as dark as night;An uproar rises, wondrous in its might.
The kousts and mighty karnays loudly sound;Their thunder seems to shift the very ground.
An elephant bears up a throne that gleamsWith turquoise, bright as Nile’s resplendent streams.
The air seems violet silk above their train;Bright, many-colored banners light the plain.
One glorious standard towers high and bright,Straight as a cypress, splendid to the sight.
Armored horsemen around that standard ride;The earth is violet, stretching far and wide.
Flag follows flag, with emblems raised on high:The dragon and the homa meet the eye.
If at this speed they keep upon their way,They will be here within another day.”
Family
- Parents
- Keshvad
- Children
- Giv, Bahram, Rohham, Shidush, Hajir
On the maps
B4.3Kay Kavus Ventures to Mazandaran
B5.10–B5.11Kavus's Mazandaran Campaign and the Return to Iran
B6.1The Hamavaran Sea-War and Kavus's Captivity
B7.1The Frontier Hunt and the Clash of the Seven Champions
B10.15–B10.29Giv's Seven-Year Quest and the Flight Home across the Jihun
B11.3–B11.7The Realm Restored: Kay Khosrow’s Fronts and the Division of Commands
B12.2–B12.15The Wrong Road: Forood's Mountain and the Snowstorm Campaign
B13.9–B13.26The Siege of Mount Hamavan and the Gathering of the WorldWhere he appears
Named mentions by book, from the Universe Registry. Titles such as “the Shah” and epithets are not counted.
B4The War with Mazandaran6B5The Seven Labors of Rostam7B6The Folly of Kay Kavus8B7The Fight of the Seven Warriors3B8The Tragedy of Rostam & Sohrab18B9The Story of Siavash9B10Vengeance for Siavash and the Retrieval of Kay Khosrow43B11Kay Khosrow’s Kingship9B12Forood and the Snowstorm Campaign34B13Mount Hamavan and the Kamus Campaign57B14The Great Battle with the Khan of Chin28C1Rostam and the Div Akvan2C2The Tale of Bijan and Manijeh27C3The Battle of the Twelve Rukhs145C4The Final Afrasiab Wars and the Disappearance of Kay Khosrow47C5Lohrasp2C8The Tragedy of Rostam and Esfandiyar1E5Hormizd, Son of Anooshirvan3E8Shiruyeh’s Coup and the End of the Great Reign1