Book A9The Birth and Early Feats of Rostam; Manuchehr’s Closing Counsel

Not long thereafter, that noble cypress boreThe fruit that fate had promised long before.

Her heart-bright spring began to fade away;To grief and suffering her heart gave way.

So vast the burden, so severe her woe,That blood instead of tears began to flow.

Her belly swelled; her body heavy grew,Her arghavan-red face turned saffron hue.

Sindokht drew near and said with anxious tone,“My child, what grief has made your spirit groan?”

Rudabeh said: “I raise my ceaseless cry,My lips spread wide with anguish as I lie.

Sleepless and withered, scarcely still alive,I seem a living corpse that must survive.

My hour has come, yet there is no release;My body burns; my pain will never cease.

My skin seems filled with stone from flesh to bone;Within there seems to lie cold iron alone.”

Until the hour of birth came on her fast,She needed sleep and rest from anguish past.

At last she swooned; loud cries filled all the hall,And from the house of Dastan rose the call.

Sindokht tore out her perfumed raven hair,And struck her face in helpless, wild despair.

At once the news was carried straight to Zal:“The leaf has withered on your cypress tall.”

With tears he came, his heart undone with dread,And reached the couch where she lay, all but dead.

The women tore their hair with heads laid bare,Their faces wet with tears of black despair.

Then suddenly a thought came to his mind:The Simorgh’s plume he once had left behind.

His pain grew lighter; hope returned instead,He smiled and gave Sindokht good news ahead.

A brazier blazed beneath his anxious stare;He burned the Simorgh’s feather in its flare.

At once the sky grew dark before their sight;The sovereign bird descended from the height.

She came like cloud whose rain was coral red,Soul-soothing coral through the heavens spread.

Zal praised the sovereign bird, and reverent, bowedBefore her as she settled from the cloud.

She said: “Why weep, O lion strong and wise?Why do such tears fall from your mighty eyes?

From this fair cypress, silver-bodied, bright,A male lion shall rise, renowned in might.

The lion shall kiss dust beneath his tread;No cloud shall dare pass over his proud head.

His cry shall tear the battle-leopard’s hide;It gnaws its claws and shrinks in fear aside.

Each warrior hearing his great gorz’s roar,Who sees his chest, his arms, his mane in war,

Shall feel his heart leap from its place in fear,Though steel-chewing in battle he appear.

In place and bearing Sahm himself shall show;In wrath, a battle-lion against the foe.

A cypress tall, an elephant in might,His battle-spear shall fly for two mil in flight.

He shall not take the common path of birth;The Maker has ordained another road to earth.

Bring forth a water-tempered khanjar keen,And one most wise and skilled in arts unseen.

First make the moon-faced mother drunk with wine,And drive out fear and worry for a time.

Cut through the flank of that tall cypress deep;She shall not feel the blade within her sleep.

Then draw the lion from its casket free;The moon’s whole flank shall bleed for all to see.

Then stitch together where the blade has cut;Let fear and grief from every heart be shut.

Take now these herbs and grind them to a paste;With milk and musk prepare them without haste.

Dry them in shade, and where the wound lies deep,Lay on the salve, and bind it firm to keep.

Then shall her strength return, her color rise,And health bloom fresh again before your eyes.

Then pass across the wound one plume of mine;Beneath my farr its shadow shines divine.

Be joyful in this matter, free from fear;Give thanks before the Maker of the sphere.

For He bestowed this royal tree on you,Whose fortune blossoms daily, green and new.

So let no grief remain within your heart;Your fruitful branch has borne its promised part.”

She spoke, then plucked a feather from her wing,And rose aloft through heaven’s circling ring.

The Simorgh left; Zal took the plume she gave,And followed every counsel, calm and brave.

A whole world watched the work with wounded soul,With eyes blood-filled as fear possessed them whole.

Sindokht wept blood and cried in helpless fear:“How shall the child emerge alive from here?”

A dexterous Mobad came with practiced hand,And made the moon-faced mother drunk as planned.

He cut her flank without a stroke of pain,And turned the child’s head from the birthward lane.

Unharmed he drew the infant safely free;No one had seen such wonder come to be.

A lion-child appeared, both tall and fair,With champion’s form no other child could share.

Men and women marveled at the sight;No one had heard of such enormous might.

A day and night the mother slept from wine,Unconscious as the hours crossed their line.

They sewed the wound to ease her sharp despair,Applying herbs with gentle, patient care.

At last the tall cypress woke from sleep;To Sindokht first she spoke from anguish deep.

They scattered gold and jewels in delight,And praised the Maker who had set things right.

They brought the child before her in full cheer,And raised him high before her like the sphere.

Though only one day old, he seemed one year;A mass of lilies, tulips bright and clear.

Rudabeh smiled upon the noble boy,And saw the royal farr in him with joy.

“I am delivered; all my grief is done,”She said; and Rostam was the name of her son.

They made a figure shaped in silk and thread,To match the child in size of limbs and head.

With sable fur they packed the figure tight;And Venus with the Sun adorned its sight.

A dragon coiled upon its arm, fierce, grand;A lion’s claw was fastened in its hand.

A spear lay tucked beneath the figure’s side;One hand held gorz, one rein with martial pride.

They set the figure on a bay horse high,With several attendants riding close nearby.

A swift hiyun was driven from the place;By order, silver coins were showered in its trace.

That image of the gorz-bearing Rostam thenWas borne to Sahm, the chief of warlike men.

They held a feast in Golestan’s green ground;From Kabul on to Zabul joy went round.

The whole plain rang with wine and reed-pipe sound;A hundred feasts by every hoard were found.

Mehrab rejoiced when tidings reached his door,And gave the poor gold dinars from his store.

Through Zabulistan, stretching end to end,Musicians sat wherever roads might bend.

The great and small did not sit far apart;Like warp and weft they joined in festal art.

The envoy laid the figure in his sight;And Sahm looked on it, joyful with delight.

The hero’s hair stood upright at the view:“This silken likeness shows my image true.

If half this figure’s stature comes to birth,His head will brush the clouds, his hem the earth.”

He called the envoy forward from the rest,And poured out silver till it reached his crest.

The koust resounded, lifting up a cry;The field was decked to gleam like rooster’s eye.

Through Sagzar and Mazandaran spread cheer;He poured out wine and silver on each peer.

When one full week had passed in such delight,The famous chief called for a scribe to write.

He wrote his answer, rich before their eyes,And decked the page like meadow of Paradise.

First praise he offered to Yazdan on high,Rejoicing as the days went brightly by.

Then Sahm praised Zal, whose fame through kingdoms rang,The lord of sword and gorz where weapons clang.

Then of the silken figure wrote a line:Warlike, with Kayanian farr divine.

He ordered: “Guard this image from all harm;Let not a breath come near to break its charm.

In secret I have prayed with all my mightBefore the World-Creator for this sight:

That these world-seeing eyes of mine might seeFrom your own seed a son formed after me.

Now both your back and mine stand straight and strong;We ask that Rostam’s life be hale and long.”

The messenger came like a driving gale,To Zal bright-hearted, bearing Sahm’s tale.

He told him all of Sahm’s rejoicing news,Then gave the letter and his father’s views.

When Zal received the word and read it through,His heart rose high, his cares dissolved like dew.

He raised his gaze toward heaven’s wheeling frame,His soul grew vast, his heart a living flame.

The turning world moved onward as before;What Time had hidden now lay hid no more.

Ten nurses fed him milk in constant flow;From milk, man’s first reserve, his strength would grow.

His milk-days ended; meat and bread appeared;On solid fare the growing child was reared.

The food of five grown men he ate alone;The people marveled at such hunger shown.

At eight, young Rostam towered straight and tall;A free-grown cypress rising over all.

A shining star he seemed before their eyes;The world looked on in wonder and surprise.

You would have said it was great Sahm, renewedIn stature, farhang, face, and counsel shrewd.

The news reached valiant Sahm: “The son of ZalHas grown in strength and stands a lion tall.

No child within the world has ever grownNor such a lion’s valor yet been known.”

At once Sahm’s heart leapt up to hear the tale;He longed to see the child, and would not fail.

He left his army with its chief to lead,And took world-seasoned men of proven deed.

His love drew him toward the son of Zal;He led his company toward Zabul’s hall.

When Zal had heard the tidings, the koust beat;The earth turned ebony beneath their feet.

Then Zal and Mehrab, Kabul’s ruling lord,Rode out to welcome Sahm in one accord.

The signal sounded and a clamor grew;From town and village people gathered too.

The army stretched from mountain ridge to hill;Red shields and yellow ranked the valley still.

The Tazi steeds and elephants gave sound;For five full mil their thunder rolled around.

A mighty elephant with trappings goldBore on its back a throne in royal mold.

Upon the golden throne sat Rostam, wideOf shoulder, cypress-tall, with warrior’s pride.

A bow was set within his powerful hand,A shield before him, firm at his command.

A crown above, a girdle round his waist,With shield, bow, arrows all before him placed.

When Sahm from far beheld the youthful sign,He drew his army up in double line.

Then Mehrab and Zal dismounted on the road,With aged chiefs whose years in silver showed.

Each laid his head upon the earth below,And blessings on brave Sahm began to flow.

Like springtime blossom Sahm’s face opened wide;He laughed to see the lion-cub in pride.

A lion’s cub enthroned for all to seeUpon the elephant; Sahm laughed with glee.

He bade them bring the elephant, and gazedAgain upon the child and crown, amazed.

Then valiant Sahm, in blessing, raised this prayer:“O mighty lion, live long, glad, and fair.”

Then Rostam stepped and kissed the royal seat,And praised great Sahm in words both bold and sweet:

“O Pahlevan of all the world, take pride;I am your branch, sprung from your root and side.

I am the servant of renowned Sahm’s name;Food, sleep, and idle rest are not my aim.

Give horse and saddle, jowshan, helmet strong;My navak shafts shall fly against the throng.

By the exalted Maker’s high command,My foes’ heads shall lie fallen where I stand.

My face resembles yours before my sight;May courage make me like you too in fight.”

Then Rostam left the elephant; Sahm took his hand,And kissed his head and eyes before the band.

The elephants stood still; tabiras mute;No beast cried out, no horn gave loud salute.

They turned together toward the palace way;With talk and happiness they filled the day.

Through every palace golden thrones were laid;They sat to feast, with wine and joy displayed.

A month went by in pleasure and repose;No man for work his warrior’s girdle chose.

They drank their wine to music of the rud;Each sang in turn a song of joyful mood.

At one throne-corner Dastan sat, sedate;At the other Rostam bore his gorz’s weight.

Before them Sahm, the world-subduer, stayed,The Homa feather from his crown displayed.

Sahm gazed at Rostam, wonder in his eyes,And spoke the name of Yazdan in surprise.

He marked his arms, his shoulders, height and frame,His reed-thin waist, broad chest, and warrior’s mane.

His thighs were thick, like those a hiyun shows;A lion’s heart and tiger’s strength arose.

Such beauty, farr, and warrior bearing shone;No Pahlevan his equal could be known.

Then Sahm said, “Search a hundred generations;None will recall his like among the nations:

A child brought living through his mother’s side,With such a wondrous remedy supplied.

A thousand blessings on the Simorgh’s name;For Yazdan showed her how the healing came.

Now in this happiness let wine be poured,And let the heart of sorrow break at board.

This world is but a lodging, coming, going;One grows old while another new is growing.”

They reached for wine and soon were drunk with cheer;From Rostam turned to Dastan’s memory dear.

Mehrab drank wine till, everywhere he peered,No man but his own mighty self appeared.

He cried, “I fear no Zal or Sahm today,Nor crowned Shah’s farr that rules the world’s array!

Give me but Rostam, Shabdiz, and my blade;What enemy would dare to make us afraid?

No cloud shall cast its shadow on our might;No cloud above our heads shall cross our sight.

Zahhak’s old custom I shall bring to birth;My charger’s hoof shall turn to musk the earth.

Now I shall have the weapons made for him!”He spoke in jest, his wine-filled eyes grown dim.

At Mehrab’s words both Zal and Sahm laughed long;Their hearts took pleasure in his drunken song.

When Mehr began, on Ormozd’s opening day,Sahm chose his road and made to ride away.

Sahm made his preparations, took the road;For one full stage Zal close beside him rode.

Young Rostam on an elephant rode near,To bid Sahm farewell with loving cheer.

Then Sahm said, “Zal, my son, take heed from me:Above all things be just in your decree.

Keep loyalty to Shahs within your breast;Choose wisdom over wealth as what is best.

Throughout the year keep both your hands from ill;Each day seek Yazdan’s path with steadfast will.

Know that this world remains with no one here;Be one in public and when none are near.

Hold fast to this advice and do not stray;Set foot on nothing but the rightful way.

For in my heart I feel my time run low;The span before me shortens as I go.”

He bade both Zal and Rostam his farewell:“Do not conceal the counsel that I tell.”

From Zabul’s court the ringing bell was heard;From elephants the answering karnay stirred.

Sweet-speaking, modest-hearted, Sahm took way;Toward Bakhtar turned the seasoned chief that day.

Zal and young Rostam rode three stages more,Then turned in tears while Sahm pressed on before.

Zal led the troops to Sistan, homeward bound;With lion Rostam, wine and joy went round.

Once Rostam drank among his friends at ease,Within a garden bright beneath the trees.

The renowned men sat joyful in the place,And pleasure shone on every noble face.

They drank red wine from crystal cups untilThe wine rose hot and clouded thought and will.

Then Zal addressed his son before them all:“O sun-bright youth, prepare gifts for the hall.

Prepare rich robes to clothe each honored guest,And noble steeds for those of highest crest.”

So Rostam opened treasure with free hand,And gave rich wealth at Zal’s direct command.

He gave adorned Tazi horses proud,Fit for the chiefs who stood within the crowd.

Each man received the wealth that was his share;Enriched, they left the garden free of care.

Then Zal withdrew to his shabestan away,While wine-filled Rostam sought his bed to stay.

He reached his chamber, heavy with the wine,And lay to rest, his senses in decline.

But suddenly a cry broke through the night:“The white elephant is loose; take flight!

The sepahbod’s white elephant breaks free;It harms the people; none can make it flee!”

At once fierce courage surged through Rostam’s frame;He seized Sahm’s gorz and toward the gateway came.

He strode toward the gate with fierce intent;The keepers barred the way before he went.

They cried, “We fear the sepahbod’s blame;How can we open and not bear the shame?

The night is dark, the elephant runs free;To let you pass is not the proper decree.”

At this fierce anger surged through Rostam’s frame;He struck one keeper hard, his wrath aflame.

His head beneath that blow became a ball;The others fled and left the gate and wall.

One gorz-stroke broke the fastening and chain;Like wind he passed beyond them to the plain.

The gorz across his shoulder, on he sped,Toward the roaring beast that loomed ahead.

It roared like Nile’s great sea throughout the night;A moving mountain thundered into sight.

The earth beneath that roaring mountain boiled;The nobles fled, their ordered ranks despoiled.

Around it fled the nobles in dismay,Like sheep before a wolf that scents its prey.

Then Rostam roared, a lion fierce and bold,And strode ahead; no trace of fear took hold.

The elephant saw Rostam and came on,A mountain charging before night was gone.

The elephant, enraged, surged forth to kill,Its trunk raised high with devastating will.

Then Rostam raised Sahm’s gorz above his head,And struck; the mountain-bodied beast bowed dead.

Its mountain-body bent beneath the stroke;The mighty frame beneath that iron broke.

Like Mount Bistoon it trembled at the blow,Then crashed upon the earth and was laid low.

One blow had felled the elephant outright;Rostam returned, his task complete that night.

He reached his chamber, laid him down to sleep,And weariness dissolved in slumber deep.

At dawn the sun rose like a lover’s face;Then news was carried swiftly to Zal’s place.

“One gorz-blow broke the creature’s mighty neck,And hurled its body down; a shattered wreck.”

Zal cried, “Alas, that elephant was strong;Its Nile-sea roar had shaken armies long.

How many battle lines that drunken beastHad broken when its fury was released!

Victorious though it was in many a fight,My Rostam has surpassed its vaunted might.”

He called for Rostam; pride he could not hide,And kissed the child he summoned to his side.

“O lion’s cub, your claws have grown so fast;Your childhood strength has ripened, sure and vast.

In farr, in valor, stature, noble frame,No child your age can stand with equal claim.

But act before your rising fame is known;Avenge Nariman’s blood, which none atone.

Go forth to Sepand, where a fortress stands,A towering hold above surrounding lands.

Its crown is wrapped in cloud against the sky;Not even flying eagles pass it by.

Four farsang high its walls and towers ascend;Four farsang broad they stretch from end to end.

Within are greenery and running streams,Brocade and gold in wealth beyond men’s dreams.

There people, herds, and living creatures thrive;Within those walls all kinds of life survive.

Trees rise in number through the fertile ground;And every useful craft within is found.

Each fruit Yazdan created filled the field;The guarded fortress gave abundant yield.

No place like this has ever yet been seen,So rich within, so guarded, and so green.

But one road leads into that hidden place,A gate as high as heaven blocks its face.

Nariman rode there at Fereydoon’s command,And set his forces round that guarded land.

Without a pause he pressed the fortress sore;The struggle ceased not at the guarded door.

Now battle, guile, and magic arts he tried;Yet still the fortress all his means defied.

For more than one full year he held the plain,But all his arts and force were spent in vain.

At last a rock hurled down from that great wallStruck Nariman, and there they saw him fall.

The army, now without its chief, withdrew,And to the exalted Shah the tidings flew.

When Sahm was told, he wept in bitter grief;For one full week his mourning found no relief.

When seven days were done, he summoned allHis troops, and marched on Sepand’s fortress wall.

He spread his army through the plain below,And ringed the fort so none could come or go.

For years and months he held the fortress round,Yet no way to its ramparts could be found.

None left the gate, none entered through the wall;Though years rolled by, no need arose at all.

Yet all those years they lacked not even straw;The siege revealed no hunger, need, or flaw.

At last Sahm turned away, his vengeance vain;His father’s blood still cried to him in pain.

Now is the time for cunning, spell, and art;Where strength has failed, let subtle craft take part.

Go with a caravan in merchant guise,So no watchman can read you with his eyes.

Once you are in, strike hard against that seed;Tear root and base away from those of evil deed.

Since no one there has heard your name before,You may pass through and reach the fortress core.”

Then Rostam said: “I hear and will obey;The cure shall soon be brought without delay.”

Zal answered: “Son, attend to what I say;Receive my counsel and do not turn away.

Put on the garb the camel-drivers use;Bring camels from the plain to serve the ruse.

Take salt alone to sell within that land;Let nothing else be loaded by your hand.

For salt is precious in that guarded hold;No other ware is valued more than gold.

Their food has need of salt at every meal;High walls cannot provide what trade must deal.

When they behold those loads come into view,The fortress folk will rush to welcome you.”

When Rostam heard, he set the work in train,As suited battle and a bold campaign.

Within the loads of salt his gorz concealed,The Pahlevan stood tall, his strength revealed.

Some kinsmen with him on the road he led,Alert and brave for what might lie ahead.

Their weapons in the camel-loads he stored;No watcher guessed what weapons lay aboard.

His lips were smiling at the ruse he knew;Toward Mount Sepand the caravan he drew.

When near the gates, a watchman marked their band,And ran uphill to tell the lord in command.

“A caravan approaches in a train;Full many camel-drivers lead the chain.

I think those camel-loads are salt alone;If you command, their purpose can be known.”

The fortress lord sent out a man to raceTo seek the caravan-chief and learn his case.

“Go see exactly what their burdens hide;Return and tell me what the loads provide.”

The envoy left the fort, and hastened down,And came to Rostam by the mountain crown.

“O caravan-chief, tell me what you bear;What secret wealth have you now brought to share?

So we may tell our lord what you convey,And hear the words he sends us back this way.”

Then Rostam answered, keeping counsel tight:“Our loads are salt alone, from left to right.”

The envoy climbed back to the fortress door,And told the lord what merchandise they bore.

“A whole caravan has come beneath your wall;These worthy men bear salt and nothing else at all.”

The chieftain rose; a smile lit up his face,And joy at once appeared within the place.

He ordered them to open wide the gate,And let the caravan pass with its freight.

When battle-seeking Rostam heard the word,From lower ground toward higher slopes they stirred.

When at the narrow gateway they drew near,They all came out to welcome him with cheer.

Before the fortress chief great Rostam came,He kissed the earth and blessed his royal name.

He brought him heaps of salt from camel-load,And blessings on the gathered people flowed.

The ruler said, “Live long beneath the skies,Like sun and moon that endlessly arise.

Your gift I take, and thanks I give to you;I see a noble, God-wise heart shine through.”

The young man entered through the crowded bazaar;His camel-drivers followed close, not far.

From every side the townsfolk crowded near;Children and women, men, all gathered here.

One offered cloth, one gold and silver bright;They bought without a thought of fear or fright.

When night grew dark, swift-clawed Rostam prepared;His famous warriors armed, their purpose shared.

He sought the castellan within his hold;Behind him came his warriors, fierce and bold.

The castellan, forewarned, came forth in wrath;He grappled Rostam, barring up his path.

Tahamtan brought his gorz upon his head;You would have thought his trunk sank underground instead.

The fortress folk soon learned of Rostam’s raid;Against their hated foe they rushed arrayed.

The night was dark; bright sword-blades flashed and shone;The earth turned red as Badakhshan ruby-stone.

The clash grew fierce amid the waves of gore;Red twilight seemed from heaven to earth to pour.

With sword and gorz and kamand Rostam pressed,And tore the heads from every valiant crest.

When Sun rose from behind its hidden veil,From Thara to Thurayya light prevailed.

Of all that fortress band no man remained;Some had been killed, the rest by battle drained.

The warriors searched the fortress wall to wall,And killed whoever still survived the fall.

Then Tahamtan within that narrow placeBeheld a granite house before his face.

An iron door was built with cunning art,By engineers made strong in every part.

One gorz-blow hurled the iron door away;Then Rostam stepped within without delay.

A lofty dome before his vision shone,With dinars filled from floor to highest stone.

At such a sight astonished Rostam stayed,And bit his lip at riches there displayed.

He said to the renowned chiefs of the band,“Who ever saw such riches in one land?

No gold, I think, remains in any mine;No pearl remains beneath the ocean brine.

All gold, it seems, was carried to this place;And pearls were spread here through this guarded space.”

Then Rostam wrote his father a full reportOf all that passed within the mountain fort:

“First praise to Him, Lord of the radiant Sun,Of snake and ant, whose will makes all things run;

Who sets Nahid, Bahram, and Mehr to turn,And raised the firmament where star-fires burn.

Then blessings fall on Zal, the battle-wise,Zabul’s peerless Pahlevan in men’s eyes;

The warriors’ refuge, Iran’s firmest stay,Who makes the Kayan star shine bright each day;

Who seats the Shah and takes the crown away,Whose orders course like Sun and Moon, we say.

By your command I reached Mount Sepand’s crest,A peak against the vault of heaven pressed.

I reached its foot; at once a greeting sped,The mountain’s lord had sent the words I read.

By his command I ordered every part,And all came out according to my art.

That dark night with renowned men I fought,And in the fort no man one respite caught.

Some slain, some wounded, others fled away;Their arms and battle gear fell in disarray.

Five hundred thousand kharvar there I found,Raw silver, assayed gold in heaps around.

Of things to wear, to spread, to bear and take,Were goods of every kind and every make.

No one could count them, labor as he may,Through months of reckoning and day on day.

Now tell me what command you would decree;May bright your heart, your footsteps blessed be.”

The courier sped like wind across the land,And placed the letter in the hero’s hand.

When Zal had read the letter through and through,He blessed renowned Rostam, brave and true.

The joyful news so brightened heart and face,It seemed his youth returned to take its place.

He then began a letter in reply,And filled its lines with thought that soared the sky,

He opened first with praise of God Most High,Then wrote: “Your heart-opening note met my eye.

I read under Fortune’s conquering sign;For joy I scattered soul on every line.

Though still a child, you did a grown man’s deed,A worthy son, the flower of noble seed.

You brightened Nariman’s spirit with your fire,And burned his enemies beneath your ire.

A thousand thousand camels I dispatch,To bear the loads no smaller train could match.

When you have read, mount swiftly for the way;Without your face I sorrow every day.

Load choicest goods upon the camel train,Then burn the fort to answer Nariman’s pain.”

When Rostam read the answer from his sire,His heart rejoiced and rose with fresh desire.

He chose the finest treasures he could find:Signets, swords, helmets, girdles of each kind;

With pearls and royal jewels shining bright,And patterned Chinese brocade rich to sight.

He chose and sent these treasures on before,While loaded caravans moved from the store.

He set Mount Sepand burning with fierce fire;Its smoke rose up to heaven, ever higher.

Then joyful-hearted Rostam turned his rein,And like the driving wind crossed hill and plain.

When Nimruz’s Pahlevan heard Rostam near,The world-illuming chief returned in cheer.

For welcome every quarter they made fair;Rich ornaments adorned each street and square.

The karnay, cymbal, horn, and daray rang;Through every street the loud reception sang.

Then Rostam reached the palace of his sire,Dastan the son of Sahm, his heart afire.

He came to Rudabeh, bowed before her face,And laid his head in dust with reverent grace.

His mother kissed his shoulders and his breast,And poured her blessings on him without rest.

Then Zal embraced his son with deep delight,And ordered largesse scattered left and right.

Then Zal sent Sahm a letter of good cheer,And made the tale of Rostam’s deeds appear.

Of all the good and ill he told the whole,And laid the tale before that wise man’s soul.

With many precious gifts the letter came,To Sahm the Pahlevan of noble name.

When Sahm received the letter, joy arose;His face grew bright and bloomed just like a rose.

He made a feast like spring in full delight,And gave the courier robe and mount outright.

He spoke at length of Rostam and his fame,Then wrote his noble son and praised his name:

“No wonder that a lion’s cub grows bold;Its lion nature cannot be controlled.

Take up a lion-cub still young and mild,Fresh from its birth, a wholly guileless child;

Let some wise Mobad takes the cub to rear,And gently raises it, keeping humans near.

But when its teeth and growing strength appear,Its keeper grows afraid and keeps well clear.

Though never once it knew its mother’s breast,Its father’s nature wakes within its chest.

So famed Rostam has courage fierce and true;No wonder; he has sprung, my son, from you.

When valor calls and battle fills the plain,The lion’s blood within him will not wane.”

He sealed the letter, called the courier near,And placed it in his hand to bear from here.

The messenger reached Zal with robe of state,And brought the famous letter to his gate.

Zal’s heart rejoiced at what the youth had done;He blessed the deeds of his triumphant son.

The world through Rostam filled with hope and cheer,From earth’s broad face to Aries in the sphere.

Now let the tale bring Manuchehr to view,That kindly Shah whose heart was firm and true.

Hear now the counsel that his son held dear,When that just Shah felt death itself draw near.

Now Manuchehr, his sixty years twice told,Prepared to leave this world and loose his hold.

The astrologers had read the circling sky,And saw his royal farr grow faint and die:

“Your time has come to leave this dwelling here;Perhaps with Yazdan better days draw near.

Prepare your road before the final day;Beneath the clay your mortal frame must stay.”

The Shah heard them and changed the court’s array,And called his lords to hear him and obey.

He called the Mobadan and sages near,And laid his heart’s deep secrets open clear.

Then Nohzar came before his father’s sight,And heard abundant counsel, grave and right:

“This throne is nothing more than spell and wind;Do not forever fasten heart and mind.

Through twice sixty years I bore the strain,And girded up my loins through grief and pain.

Yet much delight and heart’s desire I knew,And faced my enemies when battle grew.

I bore the farr that Fereydoon passed down,His counsel turned each loss and grief around.

I faced fierce Salm and Tur to claim the debtOf great Iraj, whose blood cried vengeance yet.

I cleansed the world of much that stained its face,And built strongholds and cities in their place.

And now it seems I never saw this earth;The count of all those years has lost its worth.

A tree whose fruit and leaves grow bitter still;What worth has life that bears such bitter ill?

Now after all this labor, grief, and pain,I give you throne and treasure for your reign.

As Fereydoon placed this crown in my command,I place the tested crown now in your hand.

Whatever joy you take will pass away;You too must leave this dwelling on your day.

One thing from you shall linger through the years:The sign you leave when all else disappears.

So leave behind a name that earns men’s praise;Let blessing be the monument you raise.

From spotless lineage comes faith made pure;Through rightful belief sound judgment stands secure.

Turn not away from Yazdan’s holy way;His path makes judgment clear from day to day.

A new decree shall rise throughout the earth;A different dispensation shall have birth.

Then Moses as a prophet shall appear,And from the western land his voice be clear.

Do not oppose him when his summons rings;Believe in him; the faith of Yazdan he brings.

Never forsake the road that Yazdan showed;For good and ill from Him alike have flowed.

Then from the Turks an army shall arise,And Iran’s royal throne shall be their prize.

Hard trials will come that tax both heart and wit;Be sometimes wolf, sometimes a sheep when fit.

From Pashang’s son shall bitter harm be bred;From Turan danger gather overhead.

When difficult judgment comes upon you all,Seek Sahm and Zal; upon their aid then call.

From Zal’s own line this new-grown tree has sprung;Its branch and warrior’s mane are still but young.

Through him shall Turan’s vaunted glory break;He shall arise, avenger for your sake.”

As thus he spoke, the tears began to flow;Down Manuchehr’s face they streamed in bitter woe.

And Nohzar wept before his father’s eyes;His bitter grief broke forth in mournful cries.

The Shah had known no sickness, hurt, or pain;No illness ever weakened heart or brain.

He closed his Kayanian eyes; his breath grew cold,He withered, and his mortal tale was told.

So passed the famous Shah from mortal view;His counsel lived, a memorial firm and true.