Book A6The First Kings: Fereydoon

When Fereydoon had made the world his own,He saw no other Shah on any throne.

By Kayanian custom he arrayedThe crown and throne, and royal state displayed.

On Mehr’s first day, auspicious, bright, and clear,He set the Kayanian cap with royal cheer.

The age was freed from evil, grief, and pain;The people sought God’s path throughout the reign.

They emptied hearts of quarrel and of blame,And founded then a feast of lasting fame.

The sages gathered, joyful in their place,Each held a ruby cup before his face.

Bright wine was poured; the new Shah’s face now shone,And justice made the world seem newly grown.

He ordered fires kindled all around;The people lit them over town and ground.

On every fire they burned with festive careSweet ambergris and saffron, rich and rare.

Thus Mehrgan took its root in joyful cheer,With rest and feasting marking Mehr each year.

His name lives on in Mehr, held ever dear;Seek ease, and turn your face away from fear.

For five full centuries his kingship ran;No day did evil enter in his plan.

Yet even Fereydoon could not keep this place;So worship greed no more, nor grief embrace.

Know well the world will stay with none for long;The joy it grants is fleeting all along.

Now Faranak knew nothing of her son,Nor that Zahhak’s long sovereignty was done.

At last the news reached her of his renown,And how her son now wore the royal crown.

She washed her head and body, bowed in awe,Before the Judge who gives the world its law.

She bowed her head to dust, cursed Zahhak’s reign,And praised the Creator for joy after pain.

She sought the needy out with secret care,And gave in secret each allotted share.

For one full week her hidden gifts were spread,Till almost all the needy had been fed.

Another week she feasted nobles all,And made her banquet-place a garden hall.

Then hidden treasure gathered through the yearsShe opened freely after grief and tears.

Now that her son was Shah, she prized no store;Silver seemed cheap; her treasure pleased no more.

She chose rich royal garments, jewels bright,And gifts befitting majesty and might.

Arabian steeds with golden bridles came,Their cheekpieces flashed bright with golden flame.

She sent him jowshan, helmets, javelins keen,The finest martial gear that could be seen.

With sword and cap and girdle fit for kings,She gathered up the treasury’s finest things.

She loaded camels with the gathered store,And turned to God, then sent it from her door.

The king received her gifts with joyful face,And blessed his mother in the royal place.

The army’s chiefs, when word had reached their ear,Came swiftly to the Shah and gathered near.

They said: “O mighty Shah, who knows God’s way,Give thanks to Him who brought this blessed new day.

May fortune shine upon you, ever true,And every foe’s dark hope be lost from view.

May heaven grant you victory and fame;Let justice, goodness ever guide your name.”

The seasoned elders gathered from each side,In judgment proven, tested far and wide.

They brought him gold and jewels of every kind,And came with loyal hearts and willing mind.

The nobles of each country came to waitIn joyful ranks before the royal gate.

They raised their hands to heaven and prayed as one:“Bless crown and throne beneath the turning sun.

Bless royal cap and signet; let them last,And keep this flourishing age firm and fast.”

As time went on, he journeyed through the earth,To judge each region, weigh its state and worth.

He saw what lay revealed and what lay veiled,And learned where every province thrived or failed.

Where lawless custom governed any place,He marked the wrong and rooted out its trace.

Wherever lands lacked flourishing and ease,He made them prosper, bringing greater peace.

Through goodness he restrained each evil deed,As wisdom asks of rulers fit to lead.

He made the world a Paradise restored;Where grass had grown, the rose bloomed, cypress soared.

From Amol toward Tammisheh then he came,And reached the grove that bore a famous name.

Within that famous grove the Shah would stay,And settled in its shelter from that day.

Men called that famous region Kus alone;No other name for it was ever known.

There Fereydoon established royal state,His world restored beneath a kinder fate.

When fifty years had passed beneath the sky,Three cherished sons stood tall before his eye.

Two spotless sons from Shahrnaz were born,And with their grace the royal house adorned.

The youngest Arnavaz had brought to light,Fair-cheeked, radiant to his father’s sight.

All three were tall as cypresses in spring,And bore the form and likeness of the king.

Not yet betrothed, they strode in youthful pride,Like elephants in stature, side by side.

The Shah saw body, mind, and age had grown,And manhood’s full maturity was shown.

He called for Jandal, wakeful, pure of mind,Smooth-tongued in speech, accomplished and refined.

In every delicate affair he knewThe path of service and remained most true.

The Shah said, “Travel through the world for me,And search each land with care from sea to sea.

Seek three fair sisters, born of one same pair,One father and one mother, noble, fair.

Let noble blood and chastity appear;Let pari-faces make each daughter dear.

Let height and beauty match from face to face,So none seems less in stature, form, or grace.

Their father must have pledged no daughter’s hand;Such brides alone will answer my command.”

Jandal received the charge with steady heart,Shrewd, pure of mind, accomplished in his art.

With trusted well-wishers he took his way,And searched through every kingdom day by day.

In secret he inquired from place to placeOf daughters sheltered in each noble race.

He learned their names, their lineage, and fame,And tested every house that rumor named.

Yet nowhere among nobles rich and greatHe found a house that matched the royal state.

At last to Yemen’s royal court he came,Where Sarv the Shah possessed a noble name.

There three fair daughters lived within his hall,In them he found the answer to it all.

In birth and beauty, stature, face, and grace,The three fulfilled each measure he could trace.

Then like a pheasant moving toward a flower,He came before King Sarv within his bower.

He kissed the ground and offered homage due,With polished praise, as royal servants do.

King Sarv replied, “May praise attend your name;Now state the cause and purpose why you came.

Are you an envoy with a message sealed,Or one whose noble rank should be revealed?

Is this command or counsel that you bring,And in whose name do you address the king?”

Jandal replied, “May joy be always near,And may all sorrow vanish far from here.

I am a servant sent from Iran’s throne;Great Fereydoon has made his greeting known.

He sends his greeting through my voice today;I bear his royal wish without delay.

He said: ‘Go seek King Sarv in Yemen’s land,And place my greeting in the sovereign’s hand.

So long as musk gives fragrance to the air,May grief be scattered far from all your care.

May evil stars not darken your domain;May fortune guard your life and bless your reign.

Among the Arab kings stand first in fame,And may good fortune ever guard your name.

What sweetness in this mortal world can liveBeyond the joy that life and children give?

To live in peace beneath a righteous king,And rear one’s children is life’s sweetest thing.

No bond beneath the turning heaven’s spanIs dearer than a child can be to man.

If any man possessed three eyes to see,My three sons would those three eyes be to me.

Indeed, they are still dearer than my sight,For seeing them makes all the world seem bright.

A sage once said: I never join a lineUnless I wish its fortune above mine.

The wise seek equals when they choose a friend;The good with worthy hearts their fortunes blend.

However rich and prosperous life appears,A king without good sons still harbors fears.

My realm has treasure, manhood, strength, and power;Good fortune guards my kingship every hour.

Three sons are mine, all worthy crown and throne,With wisdom, knowledge, means, and merit shown.

Whatever noble end their hearts require,They have the means to reach their full desire.

For these three princes I seek wives of worth,Three sisters joined to them by equal birth.

Within your hall, my messengers reportThree daughters fit for princes of my court.

Your daughters are not pledged in marriage yet;No bridal match for any son is set.

Two kinds of precious jewels now we hold;Let both be joined, more precious than fine gold.

Let worthy join with worthy, house with house;Three royal sons each take a royal spouse.

Such is my word. I send it with respect;Now let your wisdom answer and direct.’”

When Sarv had heard, his heart sank under woe,Like jasmine plucked from water’s cooling flow.

He thought, “If these three moons depart my sight,My bright day will be turned to blackest night.

If I no longer see them by my side,The rose of joy within my heart has died.

I should not answer such a weighty callUntil I take the counsel of them all.

Those who have shared my fortune, good and ill,Must help me judge with clear and steady will.”

He lodged the envoy with abundant care,With rank and service fitting the affair.

Then Sarv dismissed the court and sat apart,The thought of those three moons oppressed his heart.

He summoned chiefs well tested under arms,Spear-bearing men inured to battle’s harms.

Before them all he set his grief in view,And told them what the Shah now sought to do:

“My marriage gave me daughters, only three,Three shining candles, all the joy in me.

Now Fereydoon has spread a lovely lureTo take the three bright lights I keep secure.

He asks alliance, seeks a royal tie,His sons and my three daughters to ally.

I need your counsel, fearless, plain, and clear;Before I answer him, let truth appear.

If I say yes while no is in my breast,A king who lies brings shame upon his crest.

A lie is not the proper road of kings;It stains the royal tongue from which it springs.

Yet if I grant the Shah what he desires,My heart will burn with sorrow’s inner fires.

If I refuse the sovereign of the land,I risk the fury carried in his hand.

Travelers have told how Zahhak lost his crown,When Fereydoon’s great gorz had struck him down.

So speak: what path can wisdom recommend?What counsel leads this matter to an end?”

The veteran chiefs replied, “We do not goWherever every passing wind may blow.

Though Fereydoon is world-Shah without peers,No ring of servitude has touched our ears.

Plain speech and struggle are the ways we tread;Whatever comes, we face it without dread.

The bridle and the spear are ours to wield;We meet the issue openly afield.

With khanjars we can make the earth run wine;The field runs red beneath our battle line.

With lifted spears we make the air appearA reed-bed thick with shafts from van to rear.

If your three daughters are your heart’s delight,Open the purse and keep your lips shut tight.

But if you fear the world-Shah’s greater might,And seek another path to guard your right,

Demand a costly task beyond men’s skill,A deed no living man could hope to fill.

Set such a trial before every sonThat none could hope the task might yet be done.”

King Sarv heard what the seasoned chiefs advised,But found their counsel weak and ill-devised.

He saw no head or base in what they planned;Their counsel gave no path on which to stand.

At last he called the envoy to his side,And answered him with measured words and pride:

“Before your Shah I bow to his decree;Whatever he commands is law to me.

Say this: ‘Exalted Shah, your sons are dear,And more so when their royal worth is clear.

A king holds dear a son of noble worth,Especially one fit to rule the earth.

I too have children, daughters cherished three;No worldly treasure is as dear to me.

If you should ask my eyes, my troops, my reign,Or Yemen’s throne and all its royal gain,

I count all these beneath my daughters’ worth,Whose faces are my eyes’ one light on earth.

Yet if the Shah desires this marriage tie,I cannot spurn the wish of one so high.

But first let all three royal sons appear,That I may judge their worth when they are here.

Let all three come and brighten this dark hall;Their presence shall bring gladness over all.

My heart shall flourish when I see them near;Their wakeful minds and judgment shall be clear.

I shall look closely: does each act with zest,And does sound wisdom guide him through the test?

If justice guides them, I shall take their handBeneath my protection here in Yemen’s land.

Then by our custom I shall freely giveMy daughters to those princes while I live.

Whenever Fereydoon would see them then,I shall send all three swiftly home again.’”

Jandal received the answer Sarv had made,And kissed the throne, then honors duly paid.

With blessings on his lips he left the hall,And turned toward Iran at his sovereign’s call.

He came before Fereydoon with the word,And told him all in Yemen he had heard.

The Shah called all three princes to his side,And laid before them what the quest implied.

He told of Jandal’s journey and reply,And all that passed beneath the Yemen sky.

“The Shah of Yemen rules his royal hall,A cypress giving shade above them all.

Three daughters are his, unpierced jewels bright;He has no son; they are his crown and light.

Were Soroush himself such brides to find,He might bow down before their noble kind.

These are the brides that I have sought for you;Now what remains is yours to carry through.

Go now to Yemen, eloquent and wise;Let keen intelligence guide ears and eyes.

Listen with care whenever Sarv may speak,And let your answers show the truth you seek.

Be pious, bright of heart, and free from guile;Let foresight guard you through each coming trial.

Speak only truth, let wisdom rule your way;Keep thought and judgment wakeful through the day.

A prince whom royal nurture has refinedMust show true virtue both in deed and mind.

Now heed me well: King Sarv’s advice is sound;In council, his the wisest voice around.

He has great treasure, troops, and knowledge too,His crown and counsel both will challenge you.

Do not let Sarv outwit you by his schemes;The wise man works more subtly than he seems.

At first King Sarv will feast you as his guest,And seat you by his throne above the rest.

Then three sun-faced young women will appear,Like spring gardens of color, scent, and cheer.

All cypress-tall, alike in face and height,No outward difference will meet your sight.

The youngest of the sisters leads the line;Remember well this ordering and sign.

The eldest follows, while between the twoThe middle sister takes the central view.

The youngest maid will sit by eldest’s side;The eldest by my youngest will reside.

The middle sister with my middle son;Thus Sarv will seat you when the rites are done.

Then Sarv will ask you plainly to declare:‘Which maid is eldest of the sisters fair?

Which is the middle, which is born the last?’Take care to answer well, and judge it fast.

Reply: ‘The foremost is the youngest maid;Her place shows how the sisters are arrayed.

The eldest has not gained her proper seat;Her present place does not her birthright meet.

The middle sister rightly sits between;Her proper rank is plainly to be seen.’”

The three pure-born young princes heard his voice,And held his counsel as their guiding choice.

They left their father filled with knowledge bright,And afsun fit for counsel and foresight.

What else should sons of such a father showBut counsel joined with everything they know?

From such a father, wisdom was their guide;With knowledge armed, to Yemen they would ride.

The three prepared and called Mobadan near,And set upon their journey, purpose clear.

An army like the heavens moved in train,With sun-faced men renowned across the plain.

When Sarv was told the princes were close by,He decked his army bright with pheasant dye.

A mighty welcoming force he sent ahead,By wise kinsmen and men of honor led.

When those three princes entered Yemen’s land,Both men and women came from every hand.

They scattered jewels with saffron in their way,And musk with wine was poured throughout the day.

Their horses’ manes with musk and wine were wet,While golden coins beneath their feet were set.

A palace bright as Paradise arose,Prepared in splendor for the guests’ repose.

With gold and silver every chamber shone,And Roman brocade decked the jeweled throne.

King Sarv received the princes at his hall,And gave a monarch’s welcome to them all.

At dawn King Sarv’s three daughters duly came,Just as Fereydoon had foretold his aim.

Like shining moons, they entered, fair and bright,So bright their faces dazzled mortal sight.

They sat exactly as the Shah had said,In that same order Sarv had planned instead.

Then Sarv addressed the three and asked them plain:“Which of these stars is youngest? Now explain.

Which one is middle, which the eldest maid?Now tell me how their order is arrayed.”

They answered as their father’s lessons taught,And broke the snare that cunning Sarv had wrought.

King Sarv stood with his warriors amazed,By wisdom all three princes had displayed.

King Sarv perceived his mixing plan had failed;Confusing colors nothing now availed.

He said, “The proper order now is clear:Give young to young, the elder to her peer.”

Thus all the marriage bonds were now agreed,And Sarv accepted each in word and deed.

Three crown-bearing women faced the three,Their brows shone damp with shame for all to see.

With modest grace they turned toward their room,Soft words upon their lips had yet to bloom.

Then Sarv brought wine and gathered friends that day,And kept the feast till daylight passed away.

The princes drank until the wine grew strong,And sleep and rest seemed welcome before long.

Their couches stood by rosewater, a poolWithin a garden fragrant, dark, and cool.

Beneath a flower-scattering tree they lay,And slept there peacefully till break of day.

But Sarv, the sorcerers’ king, devised his guile,And left the royal garden for a while.

He worked his spell and raised a deadly cold,With roaring winds to kill those princes bold.

The meadow froze; the plain lay iron-white,No crow could cross the air in such a night.

The spell-breaking Shah’s three sons sprang from sleep,When bitter cold had pierced the garden deep.

Divine farr guarded them, and wisdom’s power;Their royal knowledge braced them in that hour.

With royal afsun, steadfast in the cold,They barred the spell and broke its deadly hold.

When morning crowned the mountain peak with gold,King Sarv came forth, the outcome to behold.

He hoped to find their faces lapis-blue,Their bodies frozen when the night was through.

He hoped their fortune would be overthrown,And his three daughters stay with him alone.

But fate refused the wish that Sarv had made;The sun and moon would grant him no such aid.

He saw the three were safe at break of dawn,Like three new moons in royal splendor drawn.

He knew his spell had failed, its power spent,And turned from sorcery and its intent.

He called the court; the men of rank appeared,And stood in line before the Shah revered.

He opened treasuries long sealed from sight,And brought concealed wealth forth into the light.

He brought his sun-faced daughters to the three,Like Paradise in spring for all to see.

No Mobad raised three cypresses so tall,So straight and graceful as Sarv’s daughters all.

With crowns and treasure, hardship none had known,Save curling raven tresses of their own.

Three new moons stood with princes, pair by pair,Three warrior sons with three young women fair.

Then Sarv in bitterness gave voice to pain:“Fereydoon has brought sorrow on my reign.

How fortunate the man with daughters none;For daughters go, and joy goes one by one.”

Then Sarv before all the Mobadan said,And turned from grief to what must lie ahead:

“The moon should have a king to be her mate;Such matching suits the dignity of state.

Know these three world-seeing eyes of mineI now entrust to princes of his line.

Keep each as dearly as you guard your sight,And guard her life with honor and with right.”

Then Sarv commanded all their gear prepared,And travel goods for every bride were shared.

On spirited camels all the loads were laid,With royal wealth for every royal maid.

All Yemen glittered with the jewels’ glow,As three rich litters waited in a row.

Behind the litters royal riches lay,And kingly goods were marshaled for the way.

Where worthy nature gives a child its grace,Both son and daughter hold an equal place.

A worthy child brings gladness to the heart,Whether a son or daughter from the start.

The princes with their brides set forth in pride,Toward Fereydoon they journeyed side by side.

Those wakeful-hearted youths pursued their way,And with their royal brides rode home that day.

When word arrived his sons were drawing near,Fereydoon rode to meet them, purpose clear.

He wished to test the nature of each mind,And learn what hidden traits he there might find.

He took the form of dragon, vast and dire,A shape whose breath seemed made of living fire.

No lion could escape that creature’s might;It roared and seethed, its mouth a blaze of light.

He saw the three approach like mountains black,Then raised a cloud of dust across their track.

The dragon roared till earth and mountain rang,Then at the eldest prince in fury sprang.

The eldest said, “A wise man knows his course;He does not choose to match a dragon’s force.”

He turned his back at once and fled the place,Nor thought it wise such terror to embrace.

Then toward the second son the dragon wheeled;The prince drew up his bow and would not yield.

He bent the bowstring, ready for the fray,And spoke before the beast that barred his way:

“When battle calls, what matters who the foe?Be lion, man, or dragon; let him show.”

The youngest came and saw the dragon near,His voice rang out, commanding it to hear:

“Turn back! You are a leopard on this way;The road of lions is no place to stay.

If Fereydoon’s great name has reached your ear,Then do not strive against his offspring here.

We three are all his sons, with our gorz raised,And battle-ready, neither cowed nor dazed.

Turn from our path; do not provoke your fate,Or ill-starred ruin on your head will wait.”

He saw their several natures, judged each one,Then disappeared, his testing fully done.

He went aside, then as their father came,With royal rite and custom, still the same.

The koust resounded, elephants strode by;His hand displayed the ox-head gorz on high.

Behind him rode the chiefs in full array;The world seemed clenched within his fist that day.

At sight of him, the princes all alighted,And ran on foot to kiss the earth, delighted.

The elephants and koust fell still in place,While all three kissed the earth with humble grace.

He took each by the hand with fond embrace,And showed a father’s kindness face to face.

To each according to his measure due,He gave the rank that matched what he now knew.

Back in the noble palace, he gave praiseTo God, through good and ill in all his days.

Then called the three and set them, side by side,Upon the throne, in honor and in pride.

“That dreadful dragon, breathing world-wide flame,Was I, your father, hidden in that frame.

I sought to learn what manhood filled each breast;And now I know each nature by this test.

Now each shall bear a fitting royal name,To match his nature and preserve his fame.

The eldest sought his safety from the maw,So Salm, from safety, is the name I draw.

When flight was called for, he did not delay;He chose the safer road and turned away.

Who heeds no elephant or lion’s threatIs mad, not brave, whatever foes are met.

The second showed fierce ardor from the start;Fire only raised the courage in his heart.

So Tur shall be his name, a lion bold,Whom raging elephants could never hold.

True courage shown in place deserves the crown;The faint of heart can never win renown.

The youngest knew both haste and measured pause,And chose between them by the wisest laws.

Between the earth and fire he took his way,The middle path the wise choose day by day.

Brave, young, and wakeful-minded, he was known;In all the world no equal could be shown.

So Iraj is the fitting name to bear;May greatness crown his fortune everywhere.

At first he showed the lion in his heart;In hardship courage marked his chosen part.

Now gladly I shall name the brides you won,Three Arab pari-faced brides, each to one.

For Salm, fair Arezu became his bride,Her noble grace and beauty at his side.

Mah-e Azadeh, free in noble ways,Was joined to Tur, moon-bright before their gaze.

Fair Sahi went to Iraj, his to wed;Canopus bowed before her lovely head.”

Then Fereydoon turned to the circling sky,To read what stars had written from on high.

The astrologers had shown each ordered sign;The charts lay open, tracing each design.

He studied there the stars of each known son,And read what fate had traced for every one.

For Salm, the Archer rose in heaven’s sphere,With Jupiter its lord, auspicious, clear.

For Tur the Lion rose; the Sun held sway,A bold, auspicious ruler on display.

For Iraj Cancer rose beneath Moon’s ray,And signs of war foretold a bitter day.

He saw that war among the brothers lay,And from his liver sighed in deep dismay.

He saw the sky turned against Iraj’s light,And for his bright-souled son foresaw the night.

With hidden things revealed before his sight,Fereydoon split the world in three by right.

Rum and Khavar made one great western share;Turan with Chin became the eastern pair.

Iran, with all the spearmen’s plain beside,Was made the third domain he set aside.

To Salm he gave an army for the way;Toward Khavar then the prince rode forth that day.

Upon a Kayanian throne he took his place,As Khavar-khodāy, lord of that wide space.

To Tur he gave Turan and Chin to hold,With troops beside him, warriors strong and bold.

He reached the Kayanian throne and took his seat,Then girded on his belt, his state complete.

He opened wide his hand; the nobles came,And brought him gems in honor of his name.

From then, as Turan-Shah, was he proclaimed,And through Turan that title won acclaim.

When Iraj’s turn arrived, his father choseIran for him, where royal fortune rose.

The spearmen’s plain with Iran formed his share,With crown and royal throne beneath his care.

The sword, the signet, ivory throne were laidBefore him, marks of sovereignty displayed.

The chiefs of wit and judgment, clear of eye,Acclaimed him Lord of Iran, Iran-khodāy.

In peace and happiness the brothers reigned,Each in the realm his father had ordained.

Much time passed on while Time its secret kept,And age upon wise Fereydoon slowly crept.

The dust of age fell on his springtime bloom,And dimmed youth’s garden with approaching gloom.

Such is the tale: when vigor yields to years,The body’s strength declines as age appears.

When darkness entered every great design,The mighty’s judgment sank into decline.

Then Salm’s heart altered from its former state;His judgment bent beneath desire and hate.

His heart in greed was drowned; he took advice,And judged his father’s division far from wise.

He hated that the golden throne was givenTo Iraj; envy left his spirit riven.

His face grew lined beneath the weight of spite;He brooded long upon his brother’s right.

He spoke the thoughts that long had burned unseen,Then sent to Chin, to Tur, an envoy keen.

“Live ever joyful, prosperous and strong,O Shahanshah of Turks and Chin, live long.

Though cypress-tall in stature we have grown,Our spirits proved too low to claim our own.

Now hear a tale no ancient age has known,No former generation ever shown:

Three sons were we, all worthy of the crown,Yet fortune raised the youngest to renown.

In years and wisdom, eldest of the line,The foremost share by right should have been mine.

And if the throne must pass beyond my hand,Then you, not Iraj, should receive the land.

To Iraj went Iran, the spearmen’s plain,And Yemen joined beneath his royal reign.

To me came Rum and Khavar in the West;To you came Turks and Chin as your bequest.

I find no footing in the shares assigned;No sound judgment rules our father’s mind.”

The swift envoy reached Turan’s royal lord,And spoke his message true, in full accord.

Then wind filled Tur’s rash, foolish head with rage;He sprang like a fierce lion from its cage.

He said, “When we were young, our father plannedThis fraud himself and dealt us each a land.

This tree our father planted with his hand;Its roots drink blood, its bitter branches stand.

You and I must meet and speak face to face,And weigh together how to press our case.

We must take counsel with discerning eyes,And see what course before our purpose lies.

Then choose a swift-tongued messenger of worth,A smooth and eloquent man of noble birth.

Let him go swiftly to the world-Shah’s side,And place these words before him, nothing hide.

Let him begin: ‘O wise, renowned king,Now hear the words your elder sons would bring.’

No valiant man should bear a fraud so base,Nor patiently endure such deep disgrace.

And in this matter there must be no stay;No ease is gained by wasting time away.”

The messenger returned with Tur’s reply;The hidden secret bared its face thereby.

From Rum came Salm, from Chin came Tur, agreed,Each answering now the other’s urgent need.

The brothers met and joined their minds as one,And shaped the course their anger had begun.

Their counsel seemed like honey to the tongue,Yet poison through its hidden sweetness clung.

They spoke together, hiding nothing now,And shared the secret thoughts behind each brow.

Then Salm and Tur called forth a Mobad wise,Sharp-witted, eloquent, with watchful eyes.

Discerning, quick to understand each word,He kept in mind each message that he heard.

They met apart, excluding every ear,And shaped their plan in counsel cold and clear.

Then Salm washed filial shame from both his eyes,And shaped the words that pride would now devise:

“Go swiftly; let not wind or dust draw near;Outstrip them both upon your road from here.

Go straight to Fereydoon without delay;Let nothing turn you from the onward way.

Greet him for both of us, then tell him this:‘Fear God in both worlds; do not act amiss.

The young may hope to reach the years of age,But white hair never darkens on life’s stage.

Why linger as your span of life grows small,When age each day draws nearer to its fall?

God gave you all the world to rule and keep,From shining sun down to the earth’s dark deep.

Yet you pursued your own desire and will,And slighted God’s command, and slight it still.

You chose the crooked path in each decree,And dealt without true justice to the three.

Three sons were yours, all wise and brave and grown,All three were worthy ornaments of throne.

No greater merit marked one son alone,That others should regard his rule their own.

One son you cast where savage dragons blow,One to the very clouds you made to go.

Beside you Iraj wears the royal crown,And cheers the eyes that age has weighted down.

One mother and one father gave us birth;Why should our claims be judged of lesser worth?

O Shah whose justice earned you high regard,Such judgment leaves that honored title marred.

Tear from his head the diadem he wears,And end the sovereignty he falsely bears.

Then give him some small corner for his share,To sit estranged and wounded in despair.

Do this, and peace between us may abide;Then we shall rest content on either side.

But if you will not, armies shall advanceFrom Turks and Chin, with Rum to lift the lance.

A mighty force with gorz will now descend,Till Iran and Iraj both meet their end.’”

The Mobad heard, then kissed the ground and turned,And bore away the words that he had learned.

He set his foot in stirrup with such speed,Like fire wind-whipped, and urged his flying steed.

He reached the royal seat, where to his viewA palace rose, high-towering in the blue;

Clouds hid its lofty summit from his gaze;From ridge to ridge it climbed through mountain haze.

From peak to peak its vast enclosure ran,A court beyond the common works of man.

At gates sat chiefs; behind, the nobles stood,In ranked degree, as mighty warriors should.

On one side lions bound with leopards lay;On one, fierce war-elephants stood in array.

From gathered ranks arose a roaring sound,Like lions raging through the palace ground.

He thought, “This eyvan must be heaven’s sphere,With armies like the paris gathered here.”

Wakeful attendants saw the envoy wait,And told the world-Shah who had reached the gate.

The Shah said, “Raise the curtain; let him through,And bring him to our presence as is due.”

When the envoy then saw the Shah appear,His heart grew still with wonder and with fear.

A cypress was his form, his face the sun;In him the grace of kings seemed joined as one.

White camphor hair lay round a rose-red face;Age joined with majesty and royal grace.

His lips held smiles, his cheeks a modest glow;From royal lips sweet speech began to flow.

The envoy fell in homage to the ground,And kissed the earth in reverence profound.

The Shah then raised him with a gracious hand,And seated him where honored envoys stand.

He asked, “Do Salm and Tur, my sons, remainIn health and joy throughout their distant reign?

And have you borne the long road’s weary strain,Its steep descents and climbs across the plain?”

The envoy said: “Long life and honor due,And none in rank take precedence of you.

All those you ask about are well and strong,And flourish through your name their whole lives long.

I am your lowly servant. Harsh the wordThose angry, foolish princes bade be heard.

I bear no guilt.” The Shah said, “Speak it all.”The Mobad gave the message in the hall.

When all was heard, the Shah’s brain boiled with rage,Yet wisdom shaped the answer born of age:

“Wise man, no plea or pardon do I need;I long expected such a word and deed.

Go tell those impure sons, corrupt and vain,Those Ahriman-taught minds where dark thoughts reign.

‘You have revealed the nature in your heart;Such words as these display your inward part.

If my own counsel vanished from your mind,Your wisdom too has wandered, lost and blind.

You have no shame, no fear of God in sight;You have abandoned every path of right.

Once black as pitch my hair, my stature high,A cypress form, a moon-face to the eye.

The turning heaven bent my back with age,Yet still it wheels the same upon its stage.

The same old Time that brought me to this stateWill turn on you; no fortune conquers fate.

By God’s supreme and ever-holy name,By shining sun and earth of darkened frame,

By throne and crown, by Venus and the Moon,I swear no crooked judgment shaped your boon.

No secret fraud or malice moved my heart;Deceit in your division played no part.

I called the wise, star-readers, Mobadan too,And asked each one what justice called us to.

For many days we weighed the world’s divide;We did not cast its shares like dust aside.

I sought the truth; no crookedness was foundWith head or root within the chosen ground.

The fear of God stood present in our sight;Throughout the world I sought the path of right.

This earth was given me, filled with humankind,And I would not share it out with crooked mind.

I said: “My three bright sons, my fortunate eyes,Shall each receive a realm beneath the skies.”

To each I gave the portion that was due,With justice as the measure held in view.

If Ahriman has turned your hearts aside,And drawn your thoughts to crookedness and pride,

Then ask if God, Yazdan who rules us all,Will bless such deeds or let their darkness fall.

Whatever seed you scatter, good or ill,That harvest in the end shall meet you still.

The wise have said; and I have learned it so;Our lasting home is not this world below.

Now greed has climbed upon your wisdom’s throne;Why make the Div’s fellowship all your own?

I fear within this dragon’s claws you lie,And from your bodies both your souls will fly.

My hour to leave this world is drawing near;This is no time for anger to appear.

When greed is emptied from the human breast,What difference crown or dust, when all find rest?

Who sells his brother to the dust belowNo longer can his deeds pure honor show.

Seek from Yazdan salvation when you standOn Reckoning’s day before His just command.

Make that provision for the road ahead,And lessen grief before your life has fled.’”

The Mobad kissed the earth and turned away,Then rode as wind’s companion on his way.

When he had gone, the Shah resumed his seat,Called Iraj near, and told him of deceit.

He told him all his elder brothers planned:“They come for war from West and Chin’s far land.

The stars have given them this evil share;In wicked deeds they revel without care.

Their countries are a spring where harshness grows;Such is the bitter crop their soil bestows.

A brother stays your brother while your headStill bears the crown and color has not fled.

But once your colored face lies pale and dead,No brother circles then around your bed.

My two sons, from the world’s two shoulders wide,Have loosed their tongues against me from each side.

If you choose battle, open treasure’s gate;Prepare your arms before it grows too late.

Reach first for breakfast’s cup before they do;Delay, and they will eat their meal on you.

You need no worldly comrade at your side;Let harmlessness and truthfulness abide.”

Then Iraj looked upon his father’s face,And answered him with calm and measured grace:

“My lord, consider Time, like wind in flight;Why should the wise let grief obscure their sight?

It withers pomegranate cheeks once bright,And dims the eyes of souls once filled with light.

At first comes treasure; later, grief befalls;Then all must leave this lodging’s transient walls.

Since dust must be our bed and brick our rest,Why plant revenge within the human breast?

Why raise a tree that drinks its fill of blood,And bears revenge as fruit from root and bud?

The earth has seen great rulers come and go,With sword, throne, signet set in royal show.

The wise before us, mighty in their day,Did not repay each wrong in harsher way.

If you permit, I will not answer illWith further evil born of angry will.

I need no crown, no throne, no royal cap;Without an army I will cross the gap.

I shall go speak to them as brother should,To turn their hearts from anger toward the good.

‘My lords, my brothers, dear as breath to me,Release the wrath you bear and let it flee.

Do not bear useless anger toward the king;Our father; what can such resentment bring?

Why should ambition draw our souls to strife,When righteousness should govern mortal life?

How did this world reward great Jamshid’s fame?At last it stripped the glory from his name.

His crown, his throne, his royal girdle fled;The world kept none when Jamshid joined the dead.

And we, both you and I, must face our fate;Time’s evil turns will reach us, soon or late.

Let us live well together, free from hate,And bar the gate when rancor lies in wait.

I shall turn bitter hearts from blood and strife;That vengeance better suits a righteous life.’”

The Shah replied, “Your brothers seek the sword;You seek a feast and friendship in accord.

The moon gives light; no wonder lies therein,For brightness is the nature born within.

Such wisdom in your answer fits your heart;You choose the bond of love, not war’s dark art.

But would a prudent man expose his headWhere dragon jaws, with deadly venom, spread?

The dragon gives what suits its nature best;From poison in its mouth no life finds rest.

Yet if this is the road your heart would choose,Then go with speed; no further time to lose.

Choose several attendants from the ranks,To ride beside you, guarding both your flanks.

Prepare whatever travel may demand,Then journey safely toward your brothers’ land.

And from the pain that weighs upon my heart,A letter I shall write before you part.

Perhaps I shall behold you safe and sound,And welcome you when homeward you are bound.

For when I see you, all my soul grows bright;Return to me in health and living light.”

The aged Shah composed a letter then,And sent his counsel to those distant men.

He praised the God whose being shall remain,Eternal, far beyond decay and wane.

“This letter bears good counsel, plain and true,To two exalted suns who shine in view;

Two warlike kings, both strong in sovereign might,One rules in Khavar, one in Chin by right.

From one who crossed the world from end to end,And learned what hidden signs and truths portend;

Who bears the sword and heavy gorz in hand,And wears the royal glory of the land;

Who turns black night to day before his eyes,And opens treasure past what hope could prize.

For whom hard trials have grown easy now,And fortune turns a bright and favoring brow.

I seek no crown, no treasure hoarded deep,No royal seat, no sovereign power to keep.

After long grief, one comfort I would know:That ease among my three dear sons may grow.

The brother whom your angry hearts accuseHas never sent you harm or harsh abuse.

He runs to you because he longs to seeThe brothers whom he loves in constancy.

He cast his kingship willingly aside,And chose your brotherhood instead of pride.

He left the throne and mounted for the road,His waist girt fast to serve at your abode.

He is the youngest: cherish and protect;The younger kin deserve love and respect.

As I have nourished body, strength, and frame,So nourish now his spirit just the same.

When he has stayed with you and shared your seat,Send him with honor home, his stay complete.”

The Shah affixed his seal upon the scroll,And Iraj left the eyvan, heart made whole.

He took such few attendants as were due,Some old, some young, a modest retinue.

As Iraj neared them, nothing yet revealedThe dark design his brothers’ hearts concealed.

By royal custom, both rode forth to greet,Their armies drawn in ranks, the train complete.

They saw his loving face, serene and bright,And both their faces opened at the sight.

Two men of strife received one gentle soul,Their tempers torn, while his remained whole.

Two hearts with rancor smoldered deep inside,While one remained composed and purified.

Together all three entered the screened hall,While troops remained beyond the curtain wall.

The army spoke of Iraj with one voice:For throne and crown, he was the rightful choice.

Their hearts grew restless, filled with love and grace;Their eyes stayed fixed upon their brother’s face.

In pairs they broke away across the plain,And Iraj’s name ran softly through the train:

“Iraj alone deserves the royal name;No other merits crown or sovereign fame.”

From the army’s edge Salm watched the murmurs spread,And every whisper weighed upon his head.

He reached his tent, his heart consumed by spite;Blood filled his liver, brows drawn hard and tight.

He cleared the court and drew Tur to his side,Then spoke in private, all the rest outside.

They spoke of kingship, crowns of every land,And weighed what power might yet remain in hand.

Then Salm said, “Why did all the soldiers strayIn scattered pairs when Iraj came today?

They rode as ours when first they left our side;Returned with hearts to Iraj newly tied.

Through all that road, each eye remained on him;Not one turned elsewhere till the light grew dim.

I feared him even before this display;What I have seen has deepened that dismay.

From now these armies all will say the same:No Shah but Iraj merits royal name.

Unless you tear his root out from the ground,He will drag you beneath your throne, fast bound.”

They rose from counsel when the words were done,And plotted through the night until the sun.

When dawn drew back the curtain from the sun,The whitening light broke sleep for everyone.

Those two vain brothers warmed their hearts to crime,And cast off shame at dawn’s appointed time.

They rose and strode together from their place,And toward the screened pavilion set their pace.

When Iraj saw them coming on the way,His heart brimmed love; he ran to them that day.

All three together entered in the tent,And spoke of why they came and what it meant.

Tur said, “You are the youngest; why be king,And wear the crown that sovereign honors bring?

Iran and Kayanian seat are yours to keep,While I stand armed where Turkic borders sweep.

Our elder suffers far in Khavar’s land;The crown is yours, with treasure at your hand.

Thus did our world-seeking father divideThe world and turn it toward the youngest side.”

Iraj heard Tur, then framed his answer clear;A purer answer rose for all to hear.

“Great brother, if you seek your heart’s true ease,Then seek repose and let your anger cease.

No crown, no royal seat, no lofty name;No Iranian army, no great fame.

I want no Iran, Khavar, Chin, or land,No kingship, no broad world beneath my hand.

Greatness whose end is darkness earns our tears;Such height is grief when final night appears.

Though heaven lift your saddle to the sky,A brick will be your pillow when you die.

Though once Iran’s high seat lay under me,Of crown and royal seat I now am free.

I yield to you the crown and royal seal;Bear me no rancor; let this quarrel heal.

Between us I seek neither war nor shame;Do not torment the spirit for my name.

May Time not bring you sorrow for my sake,Though I live far from every path you take.

I claim no more than younger brother’s part;Let manly conduct, not greed, command my heart.”

Tur heard his brother; anger creased his brow;No peace could find a welcome in him now.

Iraj’s words found nothing he could prize;For truth held little value in his eyes.

In rage Tur struck his foot against the chair,Then sprang upright, his fury open, bare.

He seized the heavy chair of beaten gold,And raised it in his hands with savage hold.

He brought it down upon the prince’s head;And Iraj begged for life, then pleading said:

“Have you no fear of God before your eyes?No shame before our father, old and wise?

Do not kill me; God will turn the courseAgainst you for my blood with righteous force.

Do not join the ranks of those who slay;Once I am gone, no trace of me will stay.

Would you approve, while you still draw your breath,Of taking life and sending one to death?

Do not harm the ant that bears its grain;It loves sweet life and shrinks from death and pain.

I shall take one small corner for my share,And by my labor gather needed fare.

Why gird yourself to spill your brother’s blood?Why drown our aged father in grief’s flood?

You sought the world; the world is yours today;Spill no blood; do not fight with God this way.”

Tur heard, but not one answering word was said;Rage filled his heart and wind possessed his head.

He drew from his boot a water-hued blade;A shroud of blood across Iraj was laid.

That poison-bright and sharpened khanjar toreThe Kayanian breast and opened up its core.

The slender cypress toppled to the earth;The royal girdle broke and lost its worth.

Blood streamed across his pomegranate face;The famed young sovereign fell from life’s embrace.

With khanjar Tur then cut off his crowned head,From elephant-like body drenched in red.

O world, you reared him cradled at your side,Then gave his precious life no place to hide.

I do not know whom secretly you prize;Your open deeds draw tears from mortal eyes.

You too, old man, whose wits are worn and thin,Why grieve for worldly things and burn within?

When vengeance drives you blindly on to kill,Take these two tyrants as a warning still.

With musk and ambergris they filled the head;To aged Fereydoon the gift was sped.

“Here is the head you cherished and adored,Through him ancestral crown was once restored.

Now give him crown or throne; the deed is done:The Kayanian shade has left its son.”

From that grim place the two unjust withdrew;One rode to Rum, one Chinward out of view.

Fereydoon watched the road with both eyes set,While crown and army yearned to greet him yet.

The time had come when Iraj should return,Yet what had happened, how could father learn?

He had prepared a turquoise throne, and strungNew jewels on the crown for one so young.

The people stood in readiness to greet,Their king with wine and song and music sweet.

They called tabiras, elephants in line,And dressed the land in splendor and design.

Both Shah and army sat their steeds and gazed,When on the road a darkening dust was raised.

From that dark dust a dromedary came,Its rider bowed with grief, his heart aflame.

He raised a cry; his grieving heart was torn,A golden casket at his side was borne.

Within the golden casket silk was spread,And in its folds lay Iraj’s severed head.

With wail and sigh, his face gone sickly pale,He came before Fereydoon with the tale.

They thought his dreadful tale could not be so,And raised the golden lid in fear and woe.

They drew the silken folds away in dread,And there before them lay young Iraj’s head.

Fereydoon fell from horseback to the ground,The army tore their robes; a wail went round.

Their faces black, their staring eyes went white,For they had hoped to see another sight.

So came the young king home from his long ride;The waiting army turned, its gladness died.

With banners torn and every koust laid low,The nobles’ faces blackened in their woe.

They blackened elephants, tabiras too,And stained the Arab horses mourning-blue.

The Shah and army walked the road instead,And cast the mourning dust upon each head.

The champions cried in agony and toreTheir flesh for that brave prince they saw no more.

Such is the turning sky’s way with mankind:It shows its face, then leaves no trace behind.

Do not trust Time or take its love for true;No straightness from a bending bow is due.

Call Time your foe; it shows a loving face;Call Time your friend; it hides away its grace.

One counsel I will offer, plain and whole:Wash love of this world clean out of your soul.

Heart-scorched, both Shah and army cried in woe,Then turned toward the garden Iraj used to know.

There once the royal festivals were held,And banquet joy through all the garden swelled.

Fereydoon bore the young king’s head in pain,And entered, staggering beneath the strain.

He looked upon the royal throne with dread,And saw no crown above the severed head.

The royal pool and cypress met his eye,Flowering tree, willow, quince stood nearby.

He found the nobles’ festive ground laid bare,Black dust rose high to Saturn through the air.

He tore his hair and wounded his own face,While tears poured down within that ruined place.

He bound a blood-red girdle round his frame,And set the royal dwelling all aflame.

He tore the rose beds up, burned cypress trees,And closed joy’s eye, renouncing every ease.

He cradled Iraj’s head against his breast,Then turned toward Yazdan with his request:

“O righteous Judge, behold this guiltless one;Look on the innocent; see what they have done.

His severed head lies here, exposed and bare;His body, torn by lions, lies elsewhere.

Burn both those unjust hearts till all their lightIs gone, and every day they see is night.

Brand both their livers with so deep a scarThat beasts will pity what their torments are.

O radiant Lord, one boon I ask of you:Grant me enough of life to see it through.

Let one renowned from Iraj’s seed arise,And gird for vengeance there before my eyes.

Once I have seen that day, then let it be:Let earth rise up and close itself on me.”

So long he wept in anguish, day by day,That grass grew round him where in grief he lay.

The earth his bed, the dust beneath his head,His world-beholding eyes grew dark with dread.

He closed his court, yet still would call and cry:“O valiant youth, why did you have to die?

No crowned king has been slain as you were slain,O famed young prince, the source of all my pain.

Ahriman has severed your noble head;The lions’ mouths became your shroud instead.”

His cries rose bitter, tears would never cease,And robbed each beast of slumber and of peace.

Throughout the realm, both women and the men,With tear-filled eyes and blood-filled hearts met then.

So many days they passed beneath grief’s breath,That all of life itself seemed only death.

Some time had passed; the grieving Shah one day,Through Iraj’s shabestan he made his way.

Among the moon-faced women in that place,Mah-Afarid appeared, a maid of grace.

Iraj had loved her in his days of joy,And she was pregnant by the murdered boy.

The Shah perceived the child within her yet,And hope of vengeance in his heart was set.

When birth-time came, a daughter saw the light;His hope of vengeance now lay far from sight.

Yet tenderly he raised her in his care,And all the world in rearing took a share.

In luxury she grew, in grace and height,Her tulip face grew lovelier and bright.

From head to foot, so like Iraj she grew,It seemed the prince himself had come to view.

When marriage age arrived, her face was fairAs Pleiades; and night-black was her hair.

Fereydoon chose Pashang, renowned by name,A husband worthy of her royal fame.

He was Fereydoon’s nephew, nobly bred,From Jamshid’s ancient line his lineage spread.

A champion worthy of the royal seat,In all that kingship asks of him complete.

The Shah then gave his granddaughter as brideTo that renowned young prince of noble pride.

And after this, some further time went by,Beneath the ceaseless turning of the sky.

Mark well what wonder heaven’s blue vault concealed,When nine full months their hidden course revealed.

That virtuous lady brought a son to light,A child well-formed for crown and kingly right.

Straight from his mother they conveyed the boy,And brought him to the aged Shah with joy.

The bearer cried, “O crown-wearer, rejoice!Look on Iraj!” he called with joyful voice.

Fereydoon smiled; his ancient sorrow fled,As though Iraj had risen from the dead.

He clasped the child and prayed for healing grace:“Restore my sight, that I may see his face.”

The righteous Lord took pity on his plight,And gave his darkened eyes restoring light.

He saw once more the shining world arise,Then fixed upon the child his opened eyes.

He cried, “May blessing crown this joyful day;Uproot our enemies’ hearts without delay!”

They brought bright wine; the festive cups went round,And Manuchehr his name was then renowned.

“From mother pure and father pure has sprungA worthy branch, now fruitful, fair, and young.”

He guarded Manuchehr with such great care,He would not let the wind pass near his heir.

The nurse who bore him never touched the ground;Pure musk beneath her steps was scattered round.

A silken canopy above him spread,And moved with nurse and child where they were led.

Years passed, and fortune brought him no ill sign;The stars withheld all malice from his line.

The aged Shah himself became his schoolIn every skill a king must know to rule.

A golden throne and heavy gorz of might,A turquoise crown proclaimed his royal right.

The key to stores of jewels and of goldHe placed within the young prince’s hold.

With crowns and torques, and royal headgear rare,And kingly belts befitting rank to wear.

Brocaded pavilions gleamed in varied dyes,With leopard skins and standards to the skies.

Arabian steeds in golden trappings came,And Indian swords in sheaths of golden flame.

Roman jowshans and helmets stood arrayed,With bows from Chakh and khadang arrows laid.

With shields from Chin and javelins set in rows,All gathered through long toil against his foes.

Fereydoon saw those treasures suited wellTo Manuchehr; his love no tongue could tell.

He called the champions, famed from near and wide,Who came for vengeance, gathering at his side.

They bowed to Manuchehr with homage due,And showered zabarjad before his view.

A new feast rose; the world rejoiced in peace,And sheep beside the wolf saw conflict cease.

There Gharan of the Kaveh line was seen,With Shirviyeh, the lion fierce and keen.

There Gashasb stood, the champion armed with steel,And Sahm, Nariman’s son, of fearless zeal.

There Qobad stood, and gold-helmed Keshvad too,With other famed men, steadfast, brave, and true.

So many renowned protectors gathered near,That all the army’s purpose now was clear.

When all the army stood in firm array,The ranks of vengeance closed around that day.

Above the gathered multitude he rose,Their king and leader, terror to his foes.

When Salm and Tur, those men with guilty hand,Heard Iran’s throne stood firm throughout the land,

They learned the royal throne again shone bright,And saw their sinking star lose all its light.

They sat together, troubled, deep in thought,And saw what ruin their own deeds had brought.

Their days grew dark; one remedy remained:Fereydoon’s pardon, if it could be gained.

They chose a pure-hearted man, discreet and wise,Eloquent in speech, with shame before his eyes.

They told him all their fear and grave intent,And what rich gifts with him were to be sent.

They opened up the vaults of Khavar’s hoard,And drew a golden crown long ages stored.

They saw the terror of their fall from height,And searched old hoards for gifts of royal might.

They heaped the wagons high with musk, and filledTheir loads with ambergris and scents distilled.

With brocade cloth and golden coins in sacks,And costly furs and silks in laden packs.

They decked the elephants along each side,And loaded wagons for the eastward ride.

From Khavar toward Iran the convoy pressed,With laden beasts and treasure richly dressed.

Each courtier added some yadgar rare,A treasured gift entrusted to their care.

When all was ready, forth the envoy went,With gifts and words the two kings jointly sent.

They charged him: “First invoke the Maker’s name,Then greet the Shah whose farr confirms his fame:

‘May Fereydoon the Pahlevan live long,Whose royal farr from God has made him strong.

May head and body flourish, honored, bright;May mind rise past the heavens’ utmost height.

I bring the words of two who serve your throne,Your sons, who now their guilt and grief have known.

Their eyes brim tears from shame before your face;Their branded hearts now seek forgiveness’ grace.

They scarcely hoped forgiveness could draw near;Yet these are words they charged me to make clear:

“Whoever sins must bear the heart’s own pain,And live in grief beneath his guilty stain.

Such fate was written for us from the start,And all that followed played its destined part.

No world-consuming lion, dragon great,Can wrench himself free from the snare of fate.

The impure Div drew both our hearts awayFrom fear of God and reverence we should pay.

Evil counsel mastered every thoughtAnd made our very minds the home it sought.

Let ignorance be counted in our plea,For blindness led us where we should not be.

Let heaven also bear a share of blame;Now refuge, now affliction, still the same.

And third, the Div stood girded in our wayFor mischief, driving both our hearts astray.

If now the Shah will wash revenge away,Our darkened faith may brighten from this day.

Then send Manuchehr with a mighty train,And let him come to us across the plain.

Before his face like slaves we both shall stand,And bind ourselves to service at his hand.

The tree that vengeance caused at last to rise,Our tears shall wash its roots before our eyes.

We water it and tend it with our tears,Until it freshens after all these years.

When fresh again that tree stands in our sight,Then crown and treasure shall become his right.”’”

The envoy came, his heart with words to tell,Whose head and tale no listener could foretell.

He reached the royal gate with gifts in tow,With elephants and treasure, all on show.

The Shah commanded Roman brocade spread,And decked the Kayanian crown for his head.

Upon the turquoise throne the Shah was seen,A cypress tall beneath the moon serene.

With torque and golden earrings richly wrought,He sat in royal state, with splendor fraught.

Beside him crowned Manuchehr took his place,The young king radiant in royal grace.

The nobles stood in two long ranks arrayed,In robes of gold, their ordered lines displayed.

Gold gorz shone and gold girdles caught the light,Till earth itself seemed doubled in their sight.

On one side chained were leopards, lions too;Across from them stood elephants in view.

Then Shapur came, whom all the court held great,And led Salm’s envoy through the royal gate.

The envoy saw that court, dismounted near,Then ran on foot to make his homage clear.

He saw the lofty throne and royal crown,Then rubbed his face upon the earth, bowed down.

Fereydoon bade a golden seat be placed,And there the envoy sat, with honor graced.

He bowed and said, “O splendor of the throne,Of crown and signet, king whose fame has grown,

The earth beneath your throne becomes a bower;Time brightens through your fortune and your power.

We all are servants of the dust you tread;Through your wise counsel all our lives are fed.”

At this good blessing, bright the Shah’s face grew,The envoy then spoke out the message due.

The fluent envoy spoke with practiced skill,Fereydoon heard him, silent, grave, and still.

He told the message of the blood-stained pair,But hid the truth their bloody deeds laid bare.

He shaped excuses for their bloody deed,And dressed their guilt as though compelled by need.

He asked that Manuchehr should come in train,With royal troops befitting crown and reign.

Before Manuchehr like slaves they would stand,Forever girded servants at his hand.

They pledged to yield the crown and royal throne,And make the greatness of the realm his own.

With dinars, brocade, treasure, jewels instead,They hoped to ransom blood their hands had shed.

The envoy spoke; the Shah heard every plea;His answer fit the lock as fits a key.

The world-ruling Shah heard what they had sent,Those two corrupt sons’ message and intent.

He asked the envoy, “Can a hand concealThe sun from mortal eyes beneath heaven’s wheel?

The hearts those wicked men concealed from sightNow blaze more plainly than the noonday light.

I heard each word you carried to my throne;Now hear the answer I will make my own.

Tell those two shameless men, corrupt and base,Those unjust sons whose love has left no trace:

Their empty speech is worth no further breath;Why lengthen words concerning guilt and death?

If love for Manuchehr has touched your breast,Where lies famed Iraj? Where does his body rest?

His body fed the beasts that roam the plain;A narrow casket held what did remain.

With Iraj slain and cast aside from view,You now prepare for Manuchehr’s blood too.

You will not see his face except in fight,A steel helm on his head, his army bright.

His gorz in hand, Kaveh’s banner spread,Horse-hooves will dye the earth a purple red.

Gharan will lead, the battle-seeking chief;Stout Shapur backs the ranks and brings relief.

At one hand Shidush, proven in the fray;Fierce Shirviyeh the lion shows the way.

There Sahm, son of Nariman, will stand;And Sarv of Yemen guide the war he planned.

With your blood we will drench, from leaf to fruit,The tree of vengeance sprung from Iraj’s root.

Till now his vengeance waited out of sight;The back of Time had never yet stood right.

Nor would it have been fitting, in my age,To start the war against my sons in rage.

But from the tree your hands tore from the ground,A fruitful branch has risen, green and sound.

Now like a raging lion he draws near,Girt tight for Iraj’s vengeance without fear.

With famed sepahbods marching in his train,With Sahm and Gashasb riding to the plain.

An army spread from mountain crest to crest,Its pounding feet will rob the world of rest.

So, next you ask the Shah to cleanse his heartOf vengeance, and forgive your guilty part,

Because the turning sphere bewildered mindAnd darkened love, leaving right thought behind.

I heard the guilty pleas you chose to frame;Now hear the judgment answering your claim.

Who sows injustice reaps no joyful day;No paradise will brighten up his way.

If God forgives, what cleansing can eraseThe brother’s blood that brands you with disgrace?

Whoever bears a reasoning soul can see:No guilty plea can make the guilty free.

Before the radiant Lord you feel no shame;Black-hearted, soft of tongue, you plead your claim.

In both the worlds your evil earns its due;The just God’s judgment will return to you.

And third: you sent an ivory throne ornate,Great elephants, a turquoise crown, rich freight.

And bags of varied jewels, rich and bright;Shall treasure wash away the blood from sight?

Shall I sell a crowned son’s head for gold?Let crown and throne and farr be bought and sold!

Who takes a price for what no price can buyIs worse than dragon’s young beneath the sky.

Shall people say, ‘His cherished son was slain;The aged father priced that life for gain?’

We have no need of wealth you send our way;How long must empty speeches fill the day?

While this gray-headed father yet can stand,Revenge stays girded fast around my hand.

Your message I have heard; my answer know;Take every word, and quickly rise and go.”

The envoy heard; his courage ebbed away,And saw Manuchehr crowned in bright array.

He withered, trembling as he left his place,Then mounted swiftly, fear upon his face.

With clear-eyed mind he saw what lay ahead,And read the fate that hovered overhead.

He knew the turning sphere, before too long,Would wrinkle its brow at Salm and Tur’s wrong.

He rode away like storm-wind from the hall,His heart in doubt what fate would next befall.

When Khavar rose at last before his sight,He saw a royal pavilion gleam bright.

He neared the curtain at the royal gate;Within, the lord of Khavar held his state.

A silken tent was fashioned broad and high,Its surface starred like heaven’s midnight sky.

The kings of two great realms sat side by side;They heard their envoy waited just outside.

The chamberlain came out at once to bringThe weary envoy inward to the king.

They set a fresh seat, then began to seekNews of the new-made king, and let him speak.

They questioned him concerning throne and crown,And every mark of sovereignty and renown.

Of Fereydoon, his army, fighting men,His realm and all the strength assembled then.

They asked how turning heaven showed its cheerTo Manuchehr, and whether fortune drew near.

“Who are the nobles? Who gives counsel best?How vast the treasure, who guards all the rest?”

The envoy said, “No one who knows bright springHas seen such splendor round another king.

A joyous spring, a paradise, whose groundIs ambergris, whose bricks with gold abound.

The highest heaven forms his palace roof;His smiling face gives paradise its proof.

No meadow reaches to that palace crest;No garden matches that broad field’s full breast.

I neared the hall; its summit rose so far,It seemed to whisper secrets to each star.

On one side elephants; a lion prideStood opposite, the world spread far and wide.

Gold thrones were borne on elephants in line;Jeweled collars clasped the male lions fine.

Before the elephants the drummers cry,While brazen karnays thunder to the sky.

The field seemed boiling with their vast array;The earth roared upward to the sky that day.

I stood before the honored Shah, and sawA turquoise throne, immense, that struck with awe.

Upon it sat the monarch like the moon,A ruby crown above him, bright as noon.

His hair was camphor, rose-leaf was his face;His heart sought modesty, his tongue had grace.

The world’s heart hung between its hope and fear;It seemed that Jamshid lived once more and near.

Manuchehr, tall as cypress, sat upright,Like Tahmuras, who bound the Divs in might.

He sat at Fereydoon’s right hand in view,As if the Shah’s own heart and voice shone through.

Among the smiths stood Kaveh, famed and tried;His battle-tested son stood at his side.

His name was Gharan, battle-proven, keen,A wakeful army-breaker, fierce in mien.

Sarv, Yemen’s king, gave counsel with great care;Victorious Gashasb watched the treasure rare.

No reckoning could number treasure’s store;No man had seen such splendor there before.

Around the palace troops stood two ranks deep,With golden gorz and golden helms to keep.

Gharan commanded all the army’s van,A watchful breaker of the foeman’s plan.

Shirviyeh, tearing lion of the field;And Shapur, elephant-brave, who would not yield.

When kousts are strapped to elephants’ broad backs,The air turns ebony above their tracks.

If such a force comes marching to our land,The hills sink low, the plains like mountains stand.

Their hearts seek vengeance, brows with anger scored;They wish for nothing but the drawn sword.”

He told them all that he had seen and heard,And Fereydoon’s answer, every single word.

The two oppressors’ hearts were wrung with pain;Their faces turned lapis beneath the strain.

They sat and sought each path that thought could frame;Their counsel had no head or foot or name.

Then Tur told elder Salm, “Let peace be gone;Hide joy away; the hour of war draws on.

We must not let this lion cub grow strong,Sharp-toothed and bold enough to right the wrong.

How could that famed youth ever lack in skill,With Fereydoon himself to train his will?

When grandfather and grandson counsel near,Their alchemy will make the outcome clear.

We must prepare for war before the hour;Make haste, for waiting only feeds his power.”

They sent their horsemen racing from the court;From Chin and Khavar troops came in support.

The whole land rang with talk of their array;From every quarter people turned their way.

Their army stretched beyond all measured bound;No eye could find its limit on the ground.

Toward Iran the two great armies passed,In jowshans, helms that hid each rider fast.

With massive elephants and treasure spread,The two blood-spillers marched with vengeance fed.

The Shah was told, “Their army has drawn near,This side of Jihun, armed for battle here.”

He summoned Manuchehr and charged him, “LeadThe army to the plain with measured speed.”

He said, “When fortune favors some young man,A careless sheep may walk into his plan.

With hunter waiting farther down its track,A hunting leopard drives it from the back.

But patience, judgment, wisdom: with the snareThese draw the raging lion from its lair.

Whoever works an evil earns his due;Hot iron burns the hand that holds it too.”

Manuchehr said, “What foe could seek your fall,O Shah whom fortune raises over all?

Unless malignant Time itself should rise,Who sought your life would cast away his prize.

I bind my Roman jowshan, scale on scale,And will not loose it while these foes prevail.

For Iraj’s vengeance I will lead the way,And raise our army’s dust to cloud the day.

Among their whole assembly I see noneWhom I would count a man when war is won.”

He ordered Gharan, battle-keen and bold,To lead the vanguard and the front to hold.

The royal pavilion moved onto the plain,With all its ordered splendor in the train.

The blessed royal standard followed near,As warriors massed around it, spear by spear.

Then men upon men poured out, rank by rank,Until the earth beneath their numbers sank.

The hills and plains became a boiling tide,So vast the army rolled from side to side.

The daylight darkened under clouds of dust,As hoof and wheel rolled onward in their thrust.

The sun itself grew lapis in the sky,Its face transformed as dust-clouds mounted high.

The army’s roar struck even sharp ears numb,So loud the marching thunder had become.

The cries of Arab horses mounted higherThan tabiras that shook the plain with fire.

Two ranks of battle elephants stretched wide,Two thirds of a farsang, marching side by side.

Of these, full sixty bore gold thrones on high,With varied jewels blazing to the eye.

Three hundred more bore baggage for the train,And moved beneath their burdens on the plain.

Three hundred battle elephants came last,In armor bound from forehead downwards fast.

Their bodies vanished under plate and gear;Except their eyes, no naked flesh showed clear.

From Tammisheh the army reached the plain,Its ordered ranks advancing in a chain.

Bold Gharan led three hundred thousand horse,All fighting riders gathered in that force.

Famed men in jowshans, heavy gorz in hand,Like raging lions charged to the command.

Their purple swords flashed brightly through the sky;Kaveh’s standard streamed before them high.

Then elephant-bodied Gharan rode besideManuchehr from Narvan’s woods in martial pride.

Manuchehr viewed his army, broad and deep,And spread the battle lines in ordered sweep.

He gave the left to Gashasb for the fight,And Sahm with Qobad marshaled on the right.

He held the center, Sarv beside him near,The wise king’s counselor without a peer.

Among the troops Manuchehr shone in light,Like moon among a gathering at night.

Gharan commanded all the army’s ranks;And Sahm stood champion, guarding both the flanks.

Qobad led forth the vanguard, scouts in hand;The ambush chief sprang from Taliman’s band.

The army stood adorned just like a bride,With lions armed and kousts arrayed beside.

Swift riders told both Salm and Tur with dread:“Iran’s ranks from forest over plain have spread.”

The two blood-spillers gathered all their force,Their hearts set hard upon a bloody course.

They set their army on the battlefield,With sea and Alanons fortress as shield.

Once more Qobad rode out beyond the line;Tur saw him there and charged with dark design.

He said, “Go back and tell your youthful king:‘O fatherless new Shah, hear what I bring.

Though Iraj left a daughter as his heir,What right have you the royal crown to wear?’”

Qobad replied, “Each word I heard from you,To Manuchehr I shall repeat it true.

But if you think awhile, your reasoning heartMay settle straight and wisdom play its part.

You will see your task has passed all bound,And rue the reckless words you cast around.

No wonder beasts both wild and tame should grieve,And mourn you, never finding a reprieve.

From Narvan’s forest over Chin entireStand warriors whose vengeance burns like fire.

When purple swords beside Kaveh’s banner rise,The sight will strike the courage from your eyes.

Then terror will confound both heart and will;You will not know the depth from lofty hill.”

Qobad returned and told the youthful kingEach word that battle-seeking Tur would fling.

Manuchehr laughed: “A fool alone speaks so,With battle near and armies set to go.

Praise to Yazdan who rules both worlds in might,Who knows the hidden and what stands in sight.

He knows that Iraj stands within my line;And blessed Fereydoon confirms the sign.

When battle joins, my lineage and my worthWill stand revealed before the watching earth.

By Him who rules the sun and moon on high,Before Tur blinks, my hand shall make reply;

His head, cut clean away from trunk and frame,I shall display, avenging Iraj’s name.

I shall avenge my blessed ancestor’s death,And end his kingship with his final breath.”

He ordered then the banquet cloth be spread,With wine and music where the warriors fed.

When the bright world grew dark, around the plainThe scouts spread out to watch the hostile train.

Before the army Gharan held the line,With Sarv of Yemen, wise in war’s design.

A cry arose before the whole array:“O Shah’s famed warriors, yield to none today!

Fight hard; this war is Ahriman’s own,With pain and vengeance, blood by blood is sown.

Gird up your waists and keep yourselves awake;Keep faith with the Creator for His sake.

Whoever falls upon this battlefieldShall reach bright heaven, cleansed of sin and healed.

Who spills the blood of Rum and Chin shall claimTheir land, and win a lasting honored name.

Their good name shall endure through every age,With sacred farr to grace their lasting page.

From Shah, the crown and throne shall be their gain;From chief, bright gold; from God, good fortune’s reign.

When pure white day stands radiant in the light,And sun has crossed two portions of its flight,

Then gird yourselves as warriors battle-tried,With gorz and Kabul khanjar at your side.

Each man must hold the place that bears his name;Let none break rank in pursuit of fame.”

The chiefs and nobles stood, a fearless wall,And heard their lion-hearted leader’s call.

They said, “We are your slaves; while we yet live,Our lives are for the Shah and his to give.

Whatever he commands, that deed is done;We shall make earth a Jihun before war is won.”

Then to their tents the warriors returned,Their hearts set hard on vengeance as they burned.

When dawn rose bright and night withdrew from sight,Manuchehr rose beneath the banners’ height.

In Roman helm and jowshan all arrayed,He held the center, sword and steel displayed.

The army raised one cry beneath the sky,And lifted spears into the clouds on high.

Their heads were filled with wrath, their brows with strain,As though their march rolled thunder through the plain.

He set the left, the right, the heart, each wing,All ordered as befitted Iran’s king.

The earth became a ship on water’s sweep,As though it hastened toward the drowning deep.

The signal sounded from the bull-elephant’s height;The earth swayed like the Nile beneath their might.

Before the elephants the drummers cried,While roaring, seething beasts surged at their side.

From karnay blast and wailing karnay sound,One might have thought a feast had filled the ground.

They moved like mountains surging through the fray;Both armies roared and thundered on their way.

The plain became a sea of crimson flow,As tulips bloomed across the earth below.

The elephants stood fixed in pools of red,Like bijadeh columns where the armies bled.

The field belonged to Iran’s youthful king,And love for him filled every living thing.

Thus battle raged until dark night was spread,And the bright sun withdrew its golden head.

Time never holds one course for long, but bringsNow honey and sweet wine, now poison’s stings.

The hearts of Salm and Tur with anger burned;Toward a night assault their counsel turned.

When night gave way to day, no battle rose;The two fierce chiefs chose waiting over blows.

When half the shining day had passed from sight,Both brothers’ hearts burned hot with hate and spite.

Together they devised a reckless scheme,A useless counsel born of hatred’s dream.

“When night comes down, we launch a sudden raid,And flood the plain with blood beneath the blade.”

Then night arrived; the day withdrew from view,And darkness veiled the world in deepest hue.

The two unjust men formed their ranks that night,And longed to launch the raid before first light.

The scouts learned all and hastened from the field,And to the Shah the hidden plan revealed.

They reached the Shah: “Raise up the battle line;The foe will strike by night; that is their design.”

Manuchehr listened closely to their word,And then shaped his course from what he had heard.

He gave the whole command to Gharan’s care,Then chose the ground where he would set the snare.

He took full thirty thousand chiefs renowned,Bold khanjar-bearing warriors, battle-bound.

The ambush ground he judged both fit and right,With chosen horsemen ready for the fight.

When night grew black, Tur came in war array,A hundred thousand armed to force their way.

The night assault was planned; their bows were bent,With arrows set, their force to battle went.

He saw Iran’s ranks standing firm in line;Before them blazed the royal battle-sign.

He saw no course but battle left to take,And raised a war cry till the night would shake.

The riders’ dust wrapped all the air in cloud,While steel blades flashed like lightning through the shroud.

The air itself seemed set alight with flame;Like diamonds, flashing blades through darkness came.

Steel’s clamor hammered deep within the head,As fire and smoke rose through the cloud-bank spread.

Then Manuchehr sprang out to close the snare,And Tur found neither side a passage bare.

He wheeled his reins and turned his face away;A mighty uproar rose from the array.

Then Manuchehr drove after him at speed,And caught the blood-stained murderer on his steed.

He cried, “For Iraj’s blood your head is due!”Then cast his spear and drove it cleanly through.

He swept him from the saddle like a gust,Then dashed him down and hurled him in the dust.

He struck the head from Tur’s now lifeless frame,And left his flesh for beasts of field to claim.

Then Manuchehr returned to his own line,And saw his proud, triumphant army shine.

To Fereydoon he wrote of battle’s days,Their good and evil, all their turns and ways.

He first invoked the Maker’s holy light,Lord of all goodness, purity, and right:

“The righteous Lord is refuge in distress;No other hand can grant us sure redress.

He is the Guide who makes the spirit glad,Eternal, constant, fixed through good and bad.

Next praise to great Fereydoon, high in fame,Lord of the crown and gorz, exalted name.

In him are justice, faith, and royal grace;Crown, throne, and kingship all adorn his place.

All rectitude flows from his fortune’s source;His throne and sacred farr light up our course.

We safely reached the Turanian ground,And drew our army up, our foes around.

Three heavy battles raged for three full days,By night and by the sun’s world-lighting rays.

I heard that Tur prepared a raid by night;In helplessness he turned from open fight.

Behind his back I set the hidden snare,And left his clenched fist holding only air.

When Tur at last turned back from battle’s face,I followed close and caught him in the chase.

I set my spear to his jowshan with force,And lifted him from saddle and from horse.

I cast him like a dragon in the dust,Then struck his worthless head off, stern and just.

I send his head now to the Shah’s own gate;Next Salm through kimiya shall meet his fate.

As Iraj’s royal head, despised, was thrownInto a golden coffin, all alone.

Tur showed no mercy, felt no shame at all;The World-Creator set me for his fall.

I freed his soul from body in like way;His house and country I will sweep away.”

He sealed the letter once his words were cast,Then sent a swift hiyun out like the blast.

The envoy rode, his face suffused with shame;Hot tears for Fereydoon from both eyes came.

How could he bear the king of Chin, now dead,Before Iran’s Shah—his severed head?

Though even a son turn from faith to wrong,His father’s grief at death burns fierce and long.

Tur’s guilt was grave; no plea could make it light,His young avenger stood prepared to fight.

The bold-faced envoy came before the seat,And laid Tur’s severed head before the Shah’s feet.

Then Fereydoon turned toward the Just and bowed,And asked a blessing on Manuchehr aloud.

News from the battlefield reached Salm that day,And darkness crossed his moon and dimmed its ray.

Behind him stood a fortress, huge and high,Its summit thrust against the azure sky.

He thought to shelter in that fortress keep,For Time can raise men high, then cast them deep.

Then Manuchehr considered Salm in flight:“If he turns back and quits the coming fight,

The Alanons fortress will become his stay;We should move first and seize the guarded way.

For once that sea-fort shelters him inside,No man can force him from that place to ride.

Its summit rises upward through the cloud,Raised from the water’s depth by craft endowed.

Each kind of treasure lies within its wall,And Homa’s wing casts royal shade on all.

I must ride swiftly and my task sustain;Let effort wear the stirrup and the rein.”

He formed the plan and told it Gharan then,A secret still concealed from other men.

When Gharan heard the Shah’s concealed design,He said, “Wise ruler, hear this thought of mine.

If this seems fitting to the Shah’s command,Entrust a mighty army to my hand.

I shall seize that passage firmly and hold fast;No beaten foe shall freely travel past.

Give me the Shah’s auspicious banner bright,And Tur’s own signet-ring to prove my right.

I shall shape a clever course by craft alone,And plant our army in that hold of stone.

Gashasb and I will go this darkened night;Let no one speak our secret till we fight.”

Six thousand chosen warriors would ride,Renowned and battle-tested at his side.

When heaven’s face had turned to utter black,They lashed tabiras on elephants’ back.

The battle-seeking chiefs moved in array,From dry land toward the water made their way.

To Shirviyeh he gave the army’s care:“I mean to hide myself and work the snare.

To the fortress lord as envoy I shall go,And Tur’s own signet shall confirm me so.

Once in the fortress, I will raise the sign,And make our purple blades flash down the line.

When I cry out and sound the battle call,Turn all your forces toward the fortress wall.”

He left the army by the sea to stay,With lion-slaying Shirviyeh, then rode away.

He said, “From Tur I come at his command;He gave no leave to pause across the land.

He says: ‘By day or night seek neither rest;Keep watch without relief at my request.

In good and evil stand beside my cause;Guard well the fortress, wakeful without pause.

If Manuchehr’s proud standard should appear,And toward the fortress bring his army near,

Then gather strength and bar them from the gate;Perhaps you will break his force and master fate.’”

The castellan heard Gharan’s message through,And saw the signet-ring and deemed it true.

At once the fortress gate was opened wide;He saw what showed, but not what lay inside.

Now hear the speaking dehqan’s warning art:He reads another who conceals his heart.

Let service be the calling we pursue,But thought must walk beside whatever we do.

In good or ill, whatever comes to pass,Take counsel from the tales of ages past.

The castellan with Gharan climbed the wall;The battle-seeking chief observed it all.

One harbored evil, one was simple-hearted;The chief stood ready, every trick well-charted.

He trusted strangers as he trusted friends,And brought both head and fortress to their ends.

Thus wisdom tells the battle-leopard’s young:“O sharp-clawed cub, by skill and courage sprung,

In unknown matters never hurry blind;From first to last examine with your mind.

A stranger’s honeyed speech demands your care,Especially amid battle’s dangerous snare.

Investigate; fear ambush in the field;Probe every word before your trust can yield.”

See how a foolish chief, bereft of wit,Could lose his judgment when the danger hit.

He made no search into the subtle case,And failed to test the truth before his face.

He never marked the snare that they had laid,And so this mighty fortress was betrayed.

When night grew black, bold Gharan’s standard shone,Like moon’s bright halo over darkness thrown.

He cried aloud and gave the promised signTo Shirviyeh and all the chiefs in line.

When Shirviyeh saw the Kayanian banner fly,He turned toward the Pahlevan with a cry.

He seized the fortress gate and entered fast,And crowned its chiefs with blood before he passed.

Gharan held one flank, Shirviyeh the side;Above flashed sword-fire, underneath the tide.

When sunlight reached the summit of the sky,No castellan or fortress guard stood by.

Smoke climbed until its head was in the cloud;No fort or ship showed through the smoky shroud.

Fire flashed; the storm-wind roared across the ground,While riders’ battle-cries rang all around.

When the bright sun declined from heaven’s height,Fortress and plain appeared alike to sight.

Twelve thousand died; black smoke climbed overhead;The sea turned pitch, the plain ran crimson-red.

Then Gharan came and told the prince each deed,The turns of battle and his hard-won speed.

Manuchehr blessed him: “May your honored placeKeep horse and saddle, gorz, and martial grace.

When you had gone, another army came,Led by a youthful chief of battle-fame.

Kakouy, Zahhak’s grandson, bore command,An avenger out of Gang Dezh-Hokht’s land.

One hundred thousand veteran riders massed,All battle-tested through campaigns long past.

They struck our men; some lions of the frayWere slain beneath their weapons that same day.

By that support Salm’s failing courage grew,And once again his thoughts toward battle drew.

They call this Kakouy battle-div in name,Strong-handed, fearless in the battle-flame.

I have not tested Kakouy in the field,Nor weighed him by the blows that our gorz wield.

But when he turns again to face my line,I shall weigh his strength and set it against mine.”

Gharan replied: “Who stands before your spear?No man or beast could meet you without fear.

Even a nahang that has blocked your wayWould split its hide from terror that same day.

Who is this Kakouy? Let him prove his claim;No man beneath the sky can match your fame.

Yet I will use clear judgment in this case,So Dezh-Hokht sends no Kakouy to this place.”

Manuchehr said: “Do not disturb your heart;You have already borne the harder part.

You led the army on the vengeance road,And spent your strength beneath that heavy load.

Now battle calls on me to take the lead;You rest and breathe; I shall answer to the need.”

Then karnay and pipe sounded from the tent,And through the ranks their brazen summons went.

From riders’ dust, tabiras, daylight died;Earth turned to pitch, and ebony spread wide.

It seemed the diamond steel itself could speak,While gorz and spear grew tongues amid the shriek.

The feathered arrows crowded all the height,Like vultures wheeling hungry through the fight.

Blood clung to every hand that gripped a blade,While crimson drops fell through the clouded shade.

Then earth appeared to heave and upward rise,A mounting wave that threatened all the skies.

Then Kakouy roared, a battle-div in might,And plunged among the warriors for the fight.

Manuchehr came, his Indian sword held high,And strode to meet him underneath the sky.

Each gave a cry that seemed to split the height;The troops around them trembled at the sight.

Like raging elephants they closed in fight,Both girded hard for vengeance and for right.

At Manuchehr’s belt Kakouy drove the spear;Its force struck hard through all the armor near.

The Roman helmet rocked beneath the stroke;His jowshan tore down to the belt, and broke.

The iron waist-belt showed beneath the tear;The Shah stood fast and brought his sword to bear.

He struck at Kakouy’s neck in one fierce sweep,And split the cuirass from the throat down deep.

Thus blade met spear until the hour of noon,And neither yielded, nor would end it soon.

Then like two leopards they began to close,And mixed the dust with blood beneath their blows.

When sunlight wheeled along the turning sphere,The struggle passed all bounds as dusk drew near.

The Shah grew straitened by the endless fight;He pressed his thighs and reached with all his might.

He caught fierce Kakouy by the warrior’s belt,And held him fast; no mercy then was dealt.

That elephant-bodied man he lifted high,Clear from the saddle underneath the sky.

He hurled him wounded on the burning sand,Then split his breast wide open, sword in hand.

Thus sharp steel claimed that Arab as its prey;His mother bore him for so dark a day.

With Kakouy slain, the lord of Khavar knewHis strength had failed; his counsel altered too.

His head was emptied now of vengeance’s heat;He fled back to the fortress, his retreat.

When Salm came to the sea, he found no boat,No trace of timber, nothing that could float.

Behind him Manuchehr’s battalions sped;The road grew hard with wounded men and dead.

The youthful chief, with wrath and vengeance stirred,Mounted his swift gray charger without word.

He cast its barding off and drove ahead,And caught Rum’s king where narrow passage led.

He cried, “O evil man, unjust and grim,You killed your brother; now answer for him.

You killed your brother for a crown through greed;Did you gain that crown? Why flee now at speed?

Now crown and throne I bring before your eyes;The royal tree has borne the fruit you prize.

Do not flee now the crown of royal state;Fereydoon has prepared your seat of fate.

The tree you planted now has come to fruit;Its harvest stands beside you in pursuit.

If thorns it bears, you planted every seed;If silk, you spun the thread by your own deed.”

Still speaking, he drove hard along the track,Till narrow ground hemmed Salm and held him back.

One sword-stroke fell across the royal side;And split his body open, deep and wide.

He ordered Salm’s severed head raised high,Upon a spear that reached toward the sky.

The soldiers stood astonished at the sight,At Manuchehr’s fierce arm and battle-might.

Then Salm’s whole army scattered like a flock,Dispersed by Time’s strong breath beneath the shock.

In groups they fled without a road or guide,Through plain and cave and mountain far and wide.

They chose a wise man, pure of heart and mind,Whose graceful speech was measured and refined.

They sent him to appear before the king,As tongue of all the troops, their words to bring.

He said, “We all are subjects in your thrall;We tread the earth obedient to your call.

Some own the herds that graze upon the plain;Some tend their fields and households for their gain.

Our ruler’s order brought us to this ground;His binding word compelled us, duty-bound.

We came as soldiers to this battle’s test,Not from desire for vengeance in the breast.

Now all are servants to your rule, and bow;With lowered heads we wait your order now.

If blood and vengeance still are your decree,We have no strength to struggle or to flee.

Our chiefs have all come wholly to your seat;We stand before you guiltless in defeat.

Whatever you desire, command it done;You rule these guiltless lives beneath the sun.”

The wise man ended; Manuchehr gave ear,And weighed his words with judgment calm and clear.

He said, “My private wish I cast to dust;I seek a lasting name through what is just.

Whatever stands apart from God’s decreeIs Ahriman’s work and shall not govern me.

Whether you came as enemies or friends,God’s victory shows where guilt begins and ends.

Today is justice; tyranny has ceased;Your chiefs from further slaughter are released.

Seek amity and cast your weapons down;Let rancor end with Salm’s defeated crown.

Be wise, keep pure your faith, your spirit bright,And cast all harm and hatred from your sight.

Return to every settled home you own,In Turan, Chin or Rum, to lands well known.”

A cry arose: “Let needless slaughter end;The tyrants’ fallen fortune cannot mend.”

Then Chin’s warriors bowed before his sight,And heaped their battle gear to mountain height.

Jowshans, helms, bargostvans, khanjar, gorz he gave;With these Manuchehr honored each chief brave.

The prince then called a courier, swift and true,And gave him Salm’s severed head to view.

To Fereydoon he wrote what war revealed,Of battle, cunning, and kimiya concealed.

First to the Maker blessings he addressed,Then Fereydoon, the famous Shah, he blessed.

“Praise to the conquering Lord, source of our might;From Him come strength and skill that guide the fight.

All good and evil lie within His power;All pain and suffering answer Him each hour.

Now blessings on Fereydoon, wakeful, wise,The Shah of earth beneath the turning skies.

He breaks the bonds of evil by decree,His counsel and divine farr set us free.

I took revenge upon Chin’s mounted array,And set an ambush where their forces lay.

By your great strength those unjust men were slain,The blood-guilty who brought us grief and pain.

Their heads we severed with avenging steel,And washed earth’s face till vengeance set its seal.

I follow close behind the letter sent,And soon will tell you how the battle went.”

He sent Shirviyeh back toward the hold,A seasoned warrior, world-wise and bold.

He said, “Inspect the treasure stored inside;Arrange what must be done, and nothing hide.

Load all the wealth on elephants held high,And bring it decked before the Shah’s own eye.”

Then bronze kousts sounded, and the reed-pipes cried,Their music rolling from the royal side.

From sea to land he drew his ordered force,Then turned toward Fereydoon on his course.

When Tammisheh appeared before his sight,Fereydoon longed to see the prince alight.

The karnay’s cry rang out beside the wall,And all the army stirred beneath its call.

On elephants turquoise thrones shone bright,Prepared by him whom fortune crowned with light.

Gold litters draped in Chinese brocade,With jewels bright, a royal show displayed.

Banners of every kind streamed into view;The world turned red and yellow, violet too.

From Gilan’s sea, a black cloud swept the plain,And marched toward Sari in an ordered train.

Gold trappings, golden girdles gleamed in line,Silver stirrups, golden shields would shine.

With elephants and treasure in array,They dressed themselves to greet him on the way.

When prince and army neared the royal train,Fereydoon came on foot along the plain.

Gil warriors came like lions loosed to fight,Gold torques and musk-black caps adorned the sight.

Behind the Shah the men of Iran came,Each like a raging lion in his frame.

Before the army elephants were led,With lion-hearted champions at their head.

When Fereydoon’s banner rose into view,Manuchehr formed his ranks and forward drew.

The young sepahbod stepped down from his steed,A new-grown tree with new fruit from its seed.

He kissed the earth and offered praise divineTo throne and crown, royal cap and sign.

Fereydoon raised him, kissed the youthful heir,And clasped his hand with praise and kingly care.

Back at his seat, the Shah sent out a callFor Sahm, son of Nariman, to the hall.

From Hind far away had Sahm already sped,To aid them in the war where blood was shed.

He brought great wealth the Shah had never claimed;No gift had been requested, sought, or named.

Of golden coins and jewels, thousands more,Beyond all reckoning was that shining store.

When Sahm came before the Shah renowned,He praised the old and young with words profound.

The Shah looked on the Pahlevan, glad-eyed,And seated famous Sahm close by his side.

“I place this grandson in your faithful care;For death draws near, and I must now prepare.

In every task stand with him as his guide;Let your own worth and skill be magnified.”

He took Manuchehr’s hand, the youthful heir,And laid it in Sahm’s palm, a trust to bear.

Then Fereydoon turned upward with his plea:“O truthful, just Judge, hear this word from me.

You said, ‘I am the just Judge in distress,The refuge of the wronged beneath duress.’

You gave me justice, aid when I had need;You gave me crown and signet for my deed.

All I desired, O God, You gave to me;Now take me to the other world, set free.

No longer would I have my spirit stayWithin this narrow place another day.”

Then Shirviyeh returned with treasure bright,And set it all before the Shah’s clear sight.

The Shah shared treasure with the royal trainWhen two days still of Mehr’s month did remain.

Then Manuchehr was seated, crowned and known,Upon the gleaming gold of royal throne.

With his own hand he crowned him for his reign,And gave him final counsel, clear and plain.

When all was done, his day of fortune died;The Kayanian tree’s green leaves shrank and dried.

He turned aside from royal crown and throne,With three kings’ severed heads before him shown.

The aged ruler wept in bitter pain,And lived beneath affliction’s heavy reign.

At every hour he raised a mourning cry,And spoke these words with tears in either eye:

“My day has turned, and darkness fills my breast;Those three who gave me joy now give no rest.

Before my eyes such misery was brought,By vengeance and the will of evil thought.

From evil nature and from wicked deeds,Such ruin follows when the young give heed.

They would not heed the order I made plain;So all three youths found bitterness and pain.”

His heart ran blood; both cheeks were wet with tears;Thus lived he till the ending of his years.

Fereydoon passed; his name remained in light,While long years followed in their endless flight.

Good name and righteousness are all that stay;What gain from loss, my son, along the way?

Manuchehr laid the Kayanian crown aside,And bound a bloody girdle at his side.

By royal rite he raised a tomb of old,From lapis lazuli and crimson gold.

An ivory throne they set beneath the crown;Above the seat the royal crown hung down.

They came to bid farewell in solemn way,As rite and faith had ordered for that day.

They closed the tomb upon the honored king;The world brought low the lord of everything.

For one full week Manuchehr wept in grief;His yellow cheeks and tears found no relief.

One week the king remained in mourning deep;The city and bazaars joined him to weep.

O world, all fraud and wind from end to end,No wise man finds in you a faithful friend.

One after one you nurture with delight,Whether their lives are long or brief in flight.

Since what you give you take again away,What matters dust or coral on that day?

Be king or subject under any name;Once this world takes your breath, all ends the same.

Then grief and joy like water run and drain;Do not torment your heart for what must wane.

Blessed the one whose goodness leaves its mark,Be servant or a king when days grow dark.