Book C7Esfandiyar’s Seven Stages and the Ruyin Dezh

Next come the Seven Stages, which I moldIn newly fashioned words of worth and gold.

Of war and counsel, vengeance, justice, might,Of feasts and revels, and the bitter fight.

If Fortune aids me in the task I choose,And grants success to my poetic muse,

With Mahmud’s royal backing I shall sing,His farr and crown sustaining all I bring.

May this world’s Shah forever live and reign,With mighty kings as servants in his train.

The shining sun revealed its face above,And graced the face of earth with light and love.

When in the Ram the sun renewed the crown,Both East and West rejoiced in his renown.

The mountains echo thunder, deep and loud;Along the streams, narcissus, tulips crowd.

Narcissus scowls; calm tulips bloom below;Hyacinths flame; pomegranate blossoms glow.

The clouds have hearts of fire and tearful eyes,While wrath and music mingle in the skies.

The cloud shows fire and pours its waters deep;Its thunder wakes the sleeper from his sleep.

Awake: the world is silk in colors bright,Like Mani’s art in Chin, spread to your sight.

The sunlit world displays its springtime pride,With tulip and narcissus tearful-eyed.

It laughs: “O bold-eyed one, for love I cry;Not pain nor anger brings tears to my eye.”

Earth only laughs when rain falls from on high;A generous monarch’s hand outshines the sky.

The sky gives rain in spring, then turns away;The generous Shah gives bounty every day.

As when the sun in Aries climbs the skies,The Shah’s hand pours its light on mortal eyes.

If treasure comes from earth or ocean’s store,If gold and musk lie heaped before his door,

He does not keep his light within his hall,But gives to kings and beggars, one and all.

Abul-Qasim’s hand pours its bounty brightOn pure and impious, on wrong and right.

He grudges none the gifts his hands bestow;Nor rests when preparations bid him go.

He enters battle when the times demand,And humbles kings beneath his conquering hand.

He gives his treasure to the men who yield,Unmindful of his labors in the field.

May Mahmud rule the world with justice crowned,And spread prosperity the whole world round.

Now hear the tale the seasoned elder told,And learn of Ruyin Dezh, that famed stronghold.

The dehqan spread the board with practiced care,And set “The Seven Stages” as the fare.

He took a golden goblet in his hand,And told of King Goshtasb, who ruled the land.

He told of Ruyin Dezh, the road ahead,And how Gorgsar the prince along it led.

The tale began: when grief and wrath took hold,And made Esfandiyar’s heart fierce and cold,

He came to Balkh, then left his father’s side,And took Gorgsar toward Turan as his guide.

He marched until the road before him split,And camped where both dividing pathways knit.

He bade them spread the board and furnish wine,With harp and song to make the gathering shine.

All the chiefs of the line sat down to eatBeside the king, each in his proper seat.

They brought Gorgsar, as ordered, bound and sore,Still worn by all the misery he bore.

By royal order, four full cups were poured;Gorgsar received them there before the lord.

Then spoke Esfandiyar: “Unlucky one,I shall enthrone you high beneath the sun.

I grant you Turan’s kingdom and its throne,And lift you high where royal powers are known,

When I return with victory complete,If all your words are free from all deceit.

Your kin and all your children’s kin shall beUnharmed, if you speak truthfully to me.

But if you turn aside and utter lies,No falsehood will find passage through my eyes.

My knife shall halve you at the waist and makeThe hearts of all who see your body quake.”

Gorgsar replied, “O prince of glorious name,No lie from me shall stain your royal fame.

The king shall hear the truth in every part;Then act with kingly wisdom in your heart.”

“Where stands the Ruyin Dezh?” the prince then said;“It lies beyond Iran—what waits ahead?

How many farsangs? Which roads reach its gate?What dangers on the journey lie in wait?

How many troops are gathered in that place?And tell me all its height and guarded space.”

Gorgsar replied, “O prince of royal seed,Three roads up to that guarded fortress lead.

Arjasp has named that place his battleground;Three roads to reach its distant walls are found.

Three months your troops must travel by that way;The second road will take two months away.

The first has water, grass, and towns; it feedsThe chiefs of Turan, meeting all their needs.

The second gives the army little grain;No grass or watering place the beasts can gain.

No resting place appears along that road;No settled shelter offers an abode.

The third road takes but seven days to tread;The eighth will bring the fortress walls ahead.

With wolves and lions, dragons haunt that trail;Against their claws, all hopes of flight will fail.

Yet worse than wolf or lion, more to fearThan dragons, is the witch whose spells draw near.

From sea to moon she lifts one by her spell;Another plunges headfirst down a well.

Then desert, Simorgh, cold that makes you freeze,And winds await that tear apart the trees.

Then will the Ruyin Dezh at last draw near,A wonder none has seen or heard of here.

It rises higher than the dark cloud’s wall;Arms, troops, and stores are gathered there for all.

Around it runs a river clear and wide,A sight to leave all gazers mystified.

The monarch takes a boat across its flowWhenever hunting calls him forth to go.

But should he dwell inside five score full years,No need to seek the outer world appears.

Within that Dezh are fields and pasture ground,Fruit trees and water, and a mill are found.”

Esfandiyar was troubled when he heard,And sighed awhile, then answered with firm word:

“There is no road for us except that way;The shortest path is best for us today.”

Gorgsar replied, “No king through might or skillHas crossed these Stages and survived them still.”

The chieftain answered, “If you ride with me,A Div’s own strength and courage you shall see.

What does your knowledge say? What first draws near?What must I fight to force our passage clear?”

Gorgsar replied, “O famed and fearless man,Two wolves will meet you where the Stages span.

A male and female, elephant in size,With staglike horns, and battle in their eyes.

They long to fight with lions, chests spread wide,Lean-flanked, huge-tusked, with monstrous strength inside.”

They took him, bound and wretched, from the feast,Back to the tent; his chains were not released.

The prince prepared a feast; the board was spread;His Kayanian cap was set upon his head.

When sun displayed its crown in heaven’s height,And earth lay bright beneath the sky’s clear light,

Tabiras sounded with a rolling cry;Earth turned to iron; ebony, the sky.

With fair array and spirits bold and strong,The prince advanced, his marching columns long.

He moved toward Turan; when the First drew near,He chose a veteran watchman, calm and clear.

His name was Bishutan, a chief of fame,Who kept the army safe when foemen came.

He said, “Keep discipline among the men;Stand watchful over all the army then.

What Gorgsar said has troubled me with fear;I will go on; keep all my people here.

If evil falls on me along this road,It must not crush my men beneath its load.”

He donned his war coat; then his night-dark steedWas saddled for the prince to take the lead.

He neared the wolves; what wolves! Their monstrous heightMade each a mighty elephant in sight.

The wolves beheld his breast, his neck, his waist,His warrior grip, his iron gorz well placed.

Like grim mad elephants, keen for the fight,They rushed from open plain with savage might.

The hero strung his bow; his battle cryWas like a roaring lion’s, fierce and high.

He rained his arrows from his practiced handsOn those two Divs that came from savage lands.

His steel-tipped arrows struck them, flight by flight;Both beasts were wounded, weakened in the fight.

He drew his watered blade and checked the rein,His head bent low; the beasts were weak with pain.

He cut their heads off, slashed their flesh; their bloodRan through the dust and turned the ground to mud.

Dismounting, he confessed his need and prayed;Then washed his blood-stained body, arms, and blade.

He sought a spot no blood had stained or marred,And faced the sun in worship and regard.

With dust upon his head, in grief he cried,“O righteous Judge, your strength has been my guide.

You laid these mighty creatures in the dust;In you alone I place my strength and trust.

You gave me judgment, strength, and skill to fight;Now guide me in the paths of what is right.”

When Bishutan arrived with all his men,They found the hero still at prayer, and then

In wonder asked, “Are these two wolves we see,Or raging elephants? How can this be?

Long live this heart, this sword, this mighty hand!Without him, let no throne or army stand,

No greatness and no royal feast remain!”They pitched his tent upon the open plain.

They spread a golden table, set to dine,And ate their food, then called for cups of wine.

For fierce Gorgsar, the news brought only pain:The prince had fought the wolves, and both lay slain.

The prince commanded, “Bring the prisoner here.”They brought him quaking, face all wet with fear.

He gave him three full cups of wine, then said,“What wonder lies upon the road ahead?”

Gorgsar replied, “O monarch lion-souled,The next stage holds a terror to behold.

A lion waits to meet you on the way;No nahang could withstand it in the fray.

The eagle, though its heart is bold in flight,Would never cross that path or meet its might.”

Esfandiyar laughed lightly as he heard,And said, “You hostile Turk, now hear my word:

Tomorrow you shall see a warrior stand,And greet the lion with his sword in hand.”

When night grew dark, the monarch gave command;His troops set out across the shadowed land.

They marched throughout the darkness of the night,And praised the prince who led them to the fight.

When sun cast off its cloak of azure shade,And dressed the world in gold and rich brocade,

He reached the lions’ station on the plain,To meet the lions on their own terrain.

He called for Bishutan and gave command,With much advice on how to guard the band.

“I go myself to fight these beasts,” he said,“And leave the force beneath your watch instead.”

He went ahead; as he approached the pair,The lion’s heart grew dark with deep despair.

A lion and a lioness were near;Both charged to meet the prince, devoid of fear.

The lion charged; he struck a mighty blow;Its face took on the coral’s crimson glow.

From head to waist he cleft the beast in two,And in its mate a sudden terror grew.

Yet like her mate she rushed with savage breath;His blade struck at her head and brought her death.

Her head rolled in the dust; the blood ran brightOn his strong hands and chest, red from the fight.

He washed his head and body clean of gore;No guardian but God did he implore.

He said, “O righteous Judge, my shield and stay,You used my hand to sweep these beasts away.”

The troops and Bishutan beheld the slain,And hailed the prince, renowned through earth’s domain.

The prince returned; within his tent they laidA feast of finest dishes, freshly made.

Esfandiyar called Gorgsar, steeped in spite,A luckless man who wished him ill outright.

He gave him three full cups of rosy wine,Until that darkened heart began to shine.

Then said, “Ill-fated wretch, speak plain tonight:What perils will tomorrow bring to light?”

Gorgsar replied, “O king of high renown,May evil never bring your fortune down.

You went to battle like devouring fire,And passed through perils terrible and dire.

You do not know what waits another day;Spare your good fortune; turn and ride away.

When you confront the next stage on this quest,A greater peril puts you to the test.

A grim and mighty dragon lurks ahead,Whose breath draws fishes from the sea’s deep bed.

Flames pour from out the furnace of its jaw;Its mountain body fills the earth with awe.

If you retrace your steps, that course is well;Your soul bears witness to the truth I tell.

Have you no pity for yourself, or allThese troops assembled at your royal call?”

The prince replied, “Dragged bound, you wretch, you goWith me, to see me overcome this foe.

It shall not flee the blade that I shall wield,Nor break my grasp; to me the beast must yield.”

He called for carpenters; they came and broughtThe long, great beams of timber that he sought.

He had a sturdy wooden carriage made,With swords around it, edge by edge arrayed.

A box atop it, built with craftsman’s art,Would hold the prince within the bladed cart.

Two noble horses drew the prince along;He rode inside to test that all was strong.

In jowshan he drove awhile through the land,With helm secured and Kabul knife in hand.

The work was done; his preparations made,The world grew black beneath the night’s deep shade.

The moon in Aries showed her crown of light;Esfandiyar rode Shulak through the night.

His army marched before him in a train,Until dawn’s sign was written on the plain.

When black night’s banner folded up from view,Bishutan came to him as morning grew,

With nobles and his kinsmen at his side;The prince put on his war coat for the ride.

He left his men in Bishutan’s command,And took his seat within the box as planned.

He harnessed two strong horses to the snare,And drove it straight toward the dragon’s lair.

Afar it heard the carriage wheels resound,And saw the horses tread the open ground.

It came in view, a mountain black as night;The sun and moon seemed hidden from his sight.

Its eyes were like two fountains filled with blood;Its mouth poured flames that surged forth in a flood.

Its jaws gaped wide, like caverns in the stone;Its bellow thundered at the prince alone.

He saw the beast and held his anxious breath,Then turned to God for help against that death.

The horses strained to flee the dragon’s force,But it sucked in the carriage and each horse.

Inside the box, the prince grew stern and grim;The swords lodged in the maw surrounding him.

Blood like a sea poured from its wounded maw;The swords stayed fixed between its throat and jaw.

Those swords had made its mouth a sheath of pain;It could not loose them; strength began to wane.

Then from the box the gallant warrior rose,And raised his sword to strike repeated blows.

With lion’s strength he hacked the dragon’s brain,Till venom fumes arose across the plain.

The fumes engulfed him; darkness veiled his head;He fell like a mountain, senseless as the dead.

Bishutan came; the army too drew near,With tears and grief and hearts consumed by fear.

They wailed and left their horses in the plain,In fear that their brave prince lay with the slain.

Then Bishutan came rushing to his aid,And bathed his face with rosewater, afraid.

When that young prince reopened both his eyes,He answered all the warriors’ grieving cries:

“The venom’s fumes subdued me in the fight;The dragon never struck me with its might.”

He rose from stupor as from sleep; he soughtFresh clothing, which his keeper quickly brought.

He washed his head and body, then he bowedAnd rolled in dust, invoking God aloud.

“Who could have killed this dragon but the oneWhom God upheld until the deed was done?”

The troops praised God and bowed; Gorgsar’s heart bledTo see the prince alive whom he thought dead.

Esfandiyar pitched by the watersideHis royal tent, while troops camped far and wide.

He called for wine and music, friends drawn near,Then rose to toast Goshtasb with royal cheer.

He summoned Gorgsar, bitter and distressed;The grieving captive came at his behest.

The prince gave him two cups of royal wine,Then laughed about the dragon’s dark design.

He said, “You worthless wretch, behold the mightOf that great dragon’s sucking breath in fight.

When I go forward to another stage,What grief and toil will next my strength engage?”

Gorgsar replied, “O prince whom stars defend,Good fortune is your ever-faithful friend.

Tomorrow, when you halt and take your rest,A witch will come to greet you as your guest.

She has seen many armies drawing near;No warrior has filled her soul with fear.

She turns dry deserts into seas at will,And towers to the sun through magic skill.

Men call her Ghul; beware that fatal snare,And spare your youth; do not go to her lair.

You have overcome the dragon; now turn back,And keep your name from dust upon this track.”

Esfandiyar replied, “Tomorrow, knave,You shall recount the prowess of the brave.

I shall so deal with her that I shall breakThe sorcerers’ proud backs and make hearts quake.

The one just God shall grant me strength to treadUpon each sorcerer’s defeated head.”

When day put on its yellow robe of gold,The sun turned west, and darkness took its hold.

He packed the loads and praised Yazdan of all,Then marched his army under night’s dark pall.

When sun raised up its golden helm on high,And made the Ram shine ruby in the sky,

The earth smiled; then he gave his whole commandTo Bishutan, and left it in his hand.

He took a golden cup, with wine supplied,And called for a fine tanbur for the ride.

Though battle lay ahead upon the way,He sought a feast, with wine and strings to play.

He saw a wood like Paradise ahead,As though the heavens planted tulips red.

The sun could scarcely pierce the leafy shade,With springs like rosewater throughout the glade.

He left his steed and chose within the woodA fountain’s edge whose shade was cool and good.

He grasped the golden goblet in delight,And let the wine make glad his heart and sight.

He took the tanbur, eager to impartIn song the longing hidden in his heart:

“Ill-starred am I; no friend comes drinking here,No wine companion comes to share my cheer.

Instead, I meet the lion and the dreadGreat dragon, with these labors still ahead.

It is not mine to see, upon this earth,A moon-faced beauty, rich in grace and worth.

God would fulfill the longing in my breastBy granting me a beauty as my guest:

Tall as a cypress, radiant as the sun,With musky hair that to her feet would run.”

The witch heard bold Esfandiyar and grewLike spring’s red rose when freshened by the dew.

She said, “A lion comes with robe and wineAnd music, caught within this snare of mine.”

Foul, wrinkled, and malicious in the gloom,She worked her spells and changed her shape and bloom.

She took the beauty of a Turkish maid,With musk-black hair and cheeks like Chin brocade.

Her cheeks like gardens, flowers at her breast,She came to where the prince had stopped to rest.

The prince, when he beheld her shining face,Sang, drank, and played with yet a greater grace.

He said, “O just and sovereign God, you guideOur feet through wilds and up the mountainside.

I wished for such a moon-faced, radiant maid,To share my joy within this woodland shade.

The just Creator gave what I desired;May heart and soul be pure, with worship fired.”

One cup of musk-sweet wine he offered up,To make her face glow ruby from the cup.

He kept a steel chain, hidden from her sight,And watched the witch, alert to any sleight.

From Paradise Zardosht had brought this charmTo Goshtasb, then bound it on the prince’s arm.

Esfandiyar then cast it round her neck;Her strength collapsed beneath the sudden check.

She took a lion’s shape; he raised his blade,And answered, steady, bold, and not afraid.

“You cannot harm me, though your spells could makeYour form an iron mountain none could shake.

Show your true face; let all disguise be shed;My sword shall give its answer now instead.”

A fetid hag in chains now met his sight;Her face was black, her head and hair were white.

His khanjar struck her head; the witch lay dead.May you not see her body or her head.

When she lay dead, the daylight turned to gloom,And eyes grew dazed, bewildered at her doom.

A black wind rose and whirled the dust on high,And hid the sun and moon within the sky.

He climbed a height and thundered from its crest;Then Bishutan came forward with the rest.

He said, “Nahang and witch must yield the fight;No lion, wolf, or leopard bears your might.

May you remain exalted all your days;The world has need of love your heart displays.”

That feat made Gorgsar burn with raging ire;From his own crown there rose a tongue of fire.

The prince laid down his face upon the ground,Before the Maker, where all grace is found.

He pitched his tent within the forest shade;A fitting royal banquet there was laid.

He told the executioner, “Now bringBound Gorgsar, shamed and wretched, to your king.”

They brought him bound before the prince in dread;He gave him three full cups of wine, deep red.

When ruddy wine had warmed the prisoner’s heart,The prince then spoke about the witch’s art:

“You luckless Turk, see on that tree the headOf that old witch, whose magic now lies dead.

You said she bore whole armies to the sea;Her head reached the Pleiades, you told me.

Now by that witch’s measure, let me hearWhat marvel at the next stage will appear?”

He answered, “Elephant in fierce array,A greater danger waits upon the way.

Be more than ever wary, brave, and wise;A mountain rises high into the skies.

A lordly bird has made that height its nest,A mountain terror fierce above the rest.

The travelers call it Simorgh; you will findA flying mountain with a warlike mind.

It bears off elephants in single flight,And leopards, sea nahangs, to clouded height.

No wolf or witch can ever be compared;It lifts such prey, its strength not once impaired.

Two young ones match its stature and its mind;Their purpose and its own are closely aligned.

It spreads its wings; the sun’s bright glories fade,And earth lies stunned beneath its mighty shade.

You cannot strive with Simorgh on that height;Turn back; you face a foe of greater might.”

The hero laughed: “My arrows, keen and true,Shall stitch its mighty shoulders through and through.

My Indian blade shall cleave its breast and throwIts head from mountain heights to dust below.”

When shining sunlight turned its face away,The sky grew grim to see the end of day,

The warrior-chief urged all the army on,And pondered Gorgsar’s words till night was gone.

Through all the night he rode on with his force,Until the mountain sun resumed its course.

When shining sunlight crowned the mountain land,The lamp of time renewed the earth and sand.

The dale and plain grew bright on every side;To Bishutan he gave his troops to guide.

He took the box and sword-lined cart and spedLike wind along the mountain path ahead.

He saw a mountain rearing overhead,And halted in the shade its summit spread.

Absorbed in thought, he gazed up at the crest,And weighed the task that set him to the test.

He praised the one Creator, by whose willThe world stood firm, and stands obedient still.

From mountain heights, the Simorgh saw the trainBehind the box, and heard the karnays’ strain.

It swooped like some dark cloud from mountain height,And hid from all the sun and moon’s clear light.

It sought to snatch the carriage as its prey,As leopards seize the game they bear away.

Its wings and feathers struck the blades and tore;Its strength and splendor were its own no more.

It beat with beak and talons, torn and stung,Then sank, exhausted, where the sword-blades clung.

Its young flew screaming from the rocky nest,With tears of blood and terror in each breast.

Their shadows blurred the eyes of all below,As grief and shrieking crossed the plain of woe.

Blood washed the horses, box, and carriage red;The wounded bird lay weak, its vigor fled.

Then from the box Esfandiyar came out,With battle gear and thunder in his shout.

In jowshan, Indian sword in his hand,He stood; a nahang no bird could withstand.

He struck until the bird was hacked apart;Now helpless lay that bird of magic art.

He praised the moon’s great Lord, who gave him skillAnd strength to gain dominion over ill.

He said, “O righteous Judge, O Lord whose mightAnd purity and skill uphold the right,

You tore the sorcerers from their settled place,And led me to this good through all your grace.”

Then karnays sounded; Bishutan brought nearThe royal tent, his brother’s battle gear.

The prince’s son, Iran’s great nobles too,With troops and crown and belt, came into view.

The carcass hid the plain beneath its weight;Bloodied limbs and talons marked its fate.

From peak to peak the ground was stained with gore;Beneath its plumes, the plain was seen no more.

They saw the blood-stained prince, whose radiant faceOutshone the moon; they praised his strength and grace.

Gorgsar heard news and shook with grief and fear,And wept, his face turned livid, tear on tear.

The prince’s tent was pitched upon the ground,With valiant champions gathered all around.

They spread rich silk upon the earth to dine,Sat at the board and called for cups of wine.

Esfandiyar, illustrious and strong,Called bound Gorgsar before the gathered throng.

He gave him three full cups of wine, and redAcross his cheeks, like blooms, the color spread.

The prince addressed him: “Evil through and through,Behold what deeds the world has brought to view.

The Simorgh, lions, wolf, and dragon allBefore my arm have met their destined fall.

Who waits to bar our passage? Shall we meetWith water for the beasts and grass to eat?”

Gorgsar then raised his voice and made reply:“Famed prince, God was your helper from the sky.

The royal tree has come to fruit through you;Good fortune ripens in the deeds you do.

Tomorrow brings a task no warrior knew,No battle-hardened chief believed it true.

No gorz or bow or sword will help you fight;No way remains for battle or for flight.

Snow, spear-deep, will descend upon your road,And strange the world will look beneath its load.

You and your famous army will be lostWithin that storm of blinding wind and frost.

No marvel if you turn your face from here;My words should not offend a prince’s ear.

You plunge your troops in blood, yet think to goAlong some other road that spares them woe.

I know that storm will sweep men from their feet,Like fruit torn from a tree when tempests beat.

And even if you cross that storm-swept plain,Thirty desert farsangs of thirst remain.

That plain is all hot rock and dust and sand;No bird can cross or stand upon that land.

No ant or locust crosses that domain;No drop of water eases thirst or pain.

The sun makes all that barren country boil;No horse can find a passage through its soil.

No vulture on swift wing can cleave that sky,No grasses clothe the rocks that bake and dry.

Like powdered tutiya, its sands will run;The earth flows loose beneath the burning sun.

For forty farsangs still your march must go,Till souls collapse and horses falter low.

The Ruyin Dezh will rise upon your way;No shade will shield you from the glare of day.

The barren ground gives nourishment to none;Its mighty walls hold converse with the sun.

Outside the fortress, beasts find no supply;Your army’s mounted strength will fail and die.

If ten thousand heroes in jowshans’ scaleFrom Iran and Turan should crowd that vale,

Besieging it a hundred years in vain,And pouring arrows on its walls like rain,

It would not count its enemies as moreThan one small knocker tapping at its door.”

The Iranians heard Gorgsar and felt pain,And said, “Noble prince, from ruin refrain.

Do not, with all your might, pursue your fall;If this is true, death waits for one and all.

We came to die in battle, not wear outOur helms; if he speaks truth, there is no doubt.

You have passed through rough roads and beasts of prey,And walked through wonders none can count today.

No warrior, no heroic Shah of old,Could number such a tale of trials told.

So, thank the Maker for all victories won,And turn back now beneath the living sun.

You may return triumphant, and your nameBefore Goshtasb shall shine with lasting fame.

If you should march elsewhere, Turan’s whole stateWill serve your fame and magnify your fate.

As Gorgsar said, do not hold life so cheap,Nor cast this army where the slaughtered sleep.

Now victory has brought us such renown;Do not cast life away with head and crown.”

The Pahlevan’s young face grew worn and oldTo hear the counsel that his warriors told.

“You came from Iran for advice alone,Not for a lofty name to call your own.

Where are the Shah’s counsels, his gifts of gold;The belts, the saddle, and the cap you hold?

Where are the vows you swore to God on high,And to the star that blessed you in the sky?

Why have your feet grown weak upon the way?Why have your counsels scattered in dismay?

Turn back in triumph if that course seems right;I seek no pleasure but the coming fight.

This Div, with words, has made you turn awayFrom battle, shrinking from the coming fray.

I need no further comrades for this deed;My son and brother give me all I need.

God is my helper; Fortune rests her headWithin my lap, and I shall press ahead.

With courage, I need no one at my side;I take a life or cast my own aside.

The foe shall see what valor can command,What victory and strength lie in my hand.

You shall not lack for tidings of my fame,My royal farr, the splendor of my name,

And how, by strength and cunning, I have wonThat hold, by Him who rules Saturn and sun.”

The Iranians looked upon their chief’s face,And saw that wrath had darkened all its grace.

They came before him, offering excuse:“Let not the prince our anxious words accuse.

Forgive our fault, if such be your command;Our souls and bodies are within your hand.

Such has our covenant remained with you,And death alone can break our service true.

Our grief is for your life, not fear of pain;No toil or battle makes our courage wane.

So long as any chief among us stands,No man will flinch at what the fight demands.”

Their leader grieved at what his anger said,Then praised the faithful warriors he had led.

He said, “True prowess cannot stay concealed;If we return as victors from the field,

No fruit of labor shall be cast away,And treasure shall reward you all one day.”

The prince took counsel till the heat withdrew,And from the heights a gentle cool wind blew.

Then karnay and buq sounded through the night,And all the army marched in ordered might.

They sped like fire along the desert road,And called on Him whose hand all life bestowed.

Then dawn rose up above the mountain height,And darkness folded back before the light.

The sun then hid its face; behind it spreadA trail of blood that stained the heavens red.

That mighty force, with armor, gorz, and spear,At last beheld the Sixth Stage drawing near.

The spring day had been glorious and fair,And gladdened every heart with fragrant air.

The prince commanded tents to crown the ground,Then food and wine were served to all around.

A fierce wind swept across the mountain zone,And chilled the prince and soldiers to the bone.

The whole world darkened like a raven’s plume,And none knew plain from height within the gloom.

The darkened mountain vanished under snow;The earth was buried under blast and blow.

For three full days and nights across the land,The wind’s wild fury swept on every hand.

The tents and their enclosures soaked straight through,And no man stood against the cold that blew.

The air was woof, the snow its warp of white;The prince stood trapped within that bitter plight.

The stricken prince called, “Bishutan, draw near;This misery has overwhelmed us here.

I faced the dragon’s fumes with warrior might,But strength and manhood cannot win this fight.

Now lift your hands in prayer to God Most High;Call on His name beneath this frozen sky.

Offer Him praise, that He may turn asideThese ills beneath whose weight we now abide.

Otherwise, from this hour our lives are lost;Our strength is gone, our hopes consumed by frost.”

Then Bishutan approached Yazdan Most High,Who guides the good and bad beneath the sky.

The soldiers lifted up their hands in prayer,And sent their countless cries into the air.

At once a gentle wind began to rise,And drew the clouds away from opened skies.

When heaven cleared and courage filled each breast,They stood before their Lord, their hearts at rest.

Three more days passed; when fourth-day sunlight shone,The prince called all his officers alone.

He spoke with measured counsel to the band:“Leave baggage here; take only arms in hand.

Let chiefs with a hundred pack beasts prepareThe food and water half of them must bear.

Load all the rest with stores for our upkeep;Leave here the surplus loads we need not keep.

The gate of battle opens on our way;Let no heart tremble now or turn astray.

When any man has lost all hope in God,His share of victory sinks beneath the sod.

But with God’s help we shall defeat the foe,And bring the idol-worshippers down low.

Within that fortress lie great stores of treasure,And each shall win a crown and wealth past measure.”

The sun put on its yellow robe of light;They loaded beasts and marched into the night.

As night wore on, the prince heard cranes and sentTo Gorgsar, troubled, asking what he meant:

“You said no water could be found ahead,Nor any place to rest a weary head.

Now cranes cry out above us in the sky;Why make us fear our water would run dry?”

He answered, “For your beasts, one spring lies here;It runs with salt; no sweeter source is near.

A second spring is poison; none may shareIts water, save wild beasts and birds of air.”

The prince said, “I have chosen for my guideA man who nurses hatred at my side.”

He drove the army on at greater speed,And called on God, the giver, in their need.

When one watch of the darkened night had passed,A cry rose from the vanguard, sharp and fast.

The young prince mounted, urging on his steed,And from the center took the army’s lead.

When he had passed the troops, his eyes could seeA river fathoms deep and running free.

The driver’s leading hiyun, in the flood,Was drowning, trapped beneath the stream in mud.

The prince seized both its thighs and pulled it clear;Gorgsar, his enemy, looked on in fear.

The prince commanded him to come in chains;He came with fettered limbs and inward pains.

“Base villain,” said the prince, “what trick is played?Why were my men through thirst and fear betrayed?

Did you not say no water could be found,And sun would burn our bodies on the ground?

Why did you claim this water was but dust,And seek to wreck my force, betray my trust?”

Gorgsar replied, “Your army’s overthrowWould shine for me with sun and moon’s bright glow.

I gain from you but fetters, grief, and hate;What should I wish but ruin on your fate?”

The chieftain laughed, amazed by what he heard;His wrath grew no more fierce at such a word.

He said, “Gorgsar, when I have won the day,You shall command the Dezh; cast fear away.

The realm is yours if truthful words you give;No harm from me shall touch you while you live.

Your children and your kin shall rest secure;No harm from me shall any one endure.”

Gorgsar grew hopeful at the prince’s word,Then kissed the ground and begged his plea be heard.

“Your words are past,” the prince said. “Now this tideHas not turned into desert, though you lied.

Where is the ford? You must direct us right,And guide the army safely through this night.”

Gorgsar said, “Iron-bound shafts cannot soarWith point and feather to the farther shore.”

The hero, filled with wonder, gave command;They loosed his bonds and let him freely stand.

Gorgsar took up a hiyun’s rein to guideThe beast into the river’s flowing tide.

He crossed the ford; the troops came one by one,And followed on the course he had begun.

The prince bade them take waterskins; they blewAir into them to bear the army through.

The horses, light of load, were crossing fast;Into the stream the whole great army passed.

The army, beasts, and baggage crossed the tide,Then formed their left and right wings side by side.

The army marched; ten farsangs now remainedBefore the Ruyin Dezh could be attained.

The prince sat down to dine, and one stood by,A servant with the wine for his supply.

Before that lion, at his word, were laidHis helm and jowshan, zereh, and his blade.

The hero summoned Gorgsar by command;Unbound, he came before the prince to stand.

He said, “Now you are free of chains today;Let truthful words be all you have to say.

When I cut off Arjasp’s head in the fight,And fill Lohrasp’s departed soul with light,

When Kuhram falls, who filled the troops with pain,For Farshidvard, the hero he had slain,

When Andariman, who in battle slewOur thirty-eight great chiefs, receives his due,

When I avenge Lohrasp and take each head,And show what wonders through my deeds are spread,

When lions’ mouths become their burial room,And Iran’s vengeance seals the tyrants’ doom,

When arrows stitch their livers through and through,Their wives and children taken captive too,

Shall I then call you glad at such a fate,Or grieved? Conceal no thought of love or hate.”

With heart constricted, venom in his speech,Gorgsar replied, “How long will pride thus preach?

May no just blessing grace your life or breath;May every evil star command your death.

May blades divide your waist; may your form lieBlood-soaked upon the dust beneath the sky.

May earth become your bed in bitter sleep,And dust the garment you forever keep.”

Roused by those words, with wrath too fierce to hide,The prince stepped forward, anger in his stride.

With Indian sword he struck him on the head,And split him crown to breast, and left him dead.

He flung him in the river’s rushing tide,And fish consumed the traitor where he died.

Then brave Esfandiyar mounted his steed,And bound his warrior’s belt with eager speed.

He climbed a height; Ruyin Dezh lay below,Its iron ramparts cold in endless row.

Three farsangs high, and forty broad its span;No clay or water showed to eye of man.

The wall was broad enough for horsemen, fourAbreast, to ride along its iron floor.

When he beheld that wonder, full in sight,He sighed and felt his heart grow dark as night.

He said, “No strength can take so vast a place;This wretched road has brought me this disgrace.

Alas for all our battles, toil, and pain;Regret is now the only fruit we gain.”

Two Turks were on the plain; four hounds ran near,Swift dogs that in full chase could capture deer.

His spear unhorsed them; to the height he broughtThe pair on foot, to learn the news he sought.

“What splendid hold is this? Speak what you know;How many horsemen guard its courts below?”

They told of King Arjasp, and of the heightAnd breadth of that great Hold, its iron might.

“One gate faces Iran, one Chin; insideA hundred thousand swordsmen there reside.

Renowned and proud, they serve Arjasp’s command,And bow like slaves before his ruling hand.

Should fresh grain fail, their stores will still supplyTen years of food, and never once run dry.

If the Shah asks it, Chin and Machin yieldA hundred thousand riders for the field.

No need can force him to seek help outside;His food and fighting men are well supplied.”

With Indian sword he struck the pair and slewThose simple-hearted men who told him true.

He then returned within his guarded tent,And from the council all the strangers sent.

Then Bishutan came in and took his seat,To speak of war and how the foes might meet.

The warrior said, “We might assault in vainThis hold for years, with only loss and pain,

Unless I now accept a lowlier role,And try some cunning plan to reach my goal.

Keep watch here at all hours with steady care,And guard the army from the hostile snare.

A man is worthy of a lofty throneWho fears no hostile army on his own,

Who fears no leopard on the mountainside,Nor dread nahang within the waters wide,

But works by craft, then force, as need is found,Now climbing high, now moving near the ground.

I shall approach the fortress in disguise,A merchant, hidden from all watching eyes.

Each book of learning I shall search and read,And gather every snare and plot I need.

Keep scouts and watchmen always on the way;Let knowledge guide you, lest your judgment stray.

If smoke by day should meet the watchman’s sight,Or fire by night should blaze with sunlight’s might,

Then know that I have kindled that bright brand;That flame is mine; no trick of hostile hand.

Array the troops and lead them out; let eachBear jowshan, helm, and gorz within his reach.

Raise up my flag without the least delay,And set the troops at center in array.

Drive on with ox-head gorz, and deal such blowsThat you seem Esfandiyar to all your foes.”

He called the cameleer and bade him stayBefore Bishutan, kneeling, to obey:

“Bring me a hundred camels, strong to bear,All red of coat, with proud and handsome air.”

Ten camels bore gold dinars in the train;Five, Chin brocade; five, gems of every vein.

A golden throne and crown were loaded too,Among the precious stones of every hue.

He brought forth eighty pairs of covered chests,With hidden fastenings, for their hidden guests.

He chose eight score of mighty men, well tried,Who would not let his secret plans spread wide.

He hid them in the chests with careful art,Then bound the baggage fast for them to start.

He chose some twenty chiefs, discreet and strong,His proud swordsmen, to bring the train along.

He set those chiefs to guide the laden train,As cameleers, each with a camel’s rein.

With shoes upon his feet, a coarse wool gown,He went as one who sought no warrior’s crown.

With jewels, gold, and silver packed for trade,He neared the Dezh, his merchant’s role well played.

He led the way; when camel bells rang round,The Dezh’s chief men came hurrying to the sound.

They talked at length, grew eager, and began:“A merchant comes, a most unusual man.

He sells for silver wares that are worth gold.”So through the fortress ran the story told.

The dealers and the nobles came to buy,And asked, “What precious goods within these lie?”

He answered, “First I need to see your king,And spread before him all I came to bring.

When he commands, my wealth I shall display,And bring its splendor to the light of day.”

He set the camel cargo down, then wentTo seek the king and further his intent.

He took a horse, two robes of Chin brocade,Whose brilliant sleeves their woven art displayed.

He took a bowl of gems, a royal hoard,And coins of gold to scatter for the lord.

Silk veiled the bowl; above, below, he spreadBoth musk and abir, fragrant on the thread.

In fine brocade, perfumed, he sought the king,With all the gifts his cunning bade him bring.

Before the king he scattered coins of gold,Then spoke as one whose wares were bought and sold:

“May wisdom ever grace the king’s command;I am a merchant, trading through the land.

My father was a Turk; my mother cameOf noble stock, a house of honored name.

In Turan I buy goods, then take my gainBy trade in Iran or the warriors’ plain.

A camel train of merchandise I bring,With cloth and gems and many a costly thing,

With jewels, crowns, and perfumes rich and rare;I seek out buyers for the goods I bear.

I left my goods outside Ruyin Dezh’s gate,Assured your care would guard them from ill fate.

If you permit the cameleers to leadThe caravan inside, you meet my need.

Your fortune keeps me free of all alarm;Your loving shadow shelters me from harm.”

Arjasp replied, “Be happy and secure;No harm within Turan shall you endure.

And should you journey on, have no more fear;In Chin or Machin, you are safe as here.”

In Ruyin Dezh he bade the merchant dwell,His gold secure, and all protected well:

A spacious house, a shop before the court,Where he could trade and have the king’s support.

With chests upon their backs, they brought the train,Each with a hand upon a camel’s rein.

A thoughtful man approached: “What lies concealedWithin those chests you carry, tightly sealed?”

The carrier replied, “We bear our fate;Upon our shoulders death has laid its weight.”

Esfandiyar arranged his wares to bringHis shop to bloom with colors like the spring.

On every side the eager buyers sprang,And through the place the din of trading rang.

The night went by; at dawn the prince arose,And toward the palace walked in merchant’s clothes.

He kissed the ground before Arjasp’s high seat,And praised him with a merchant’s words discreet:

“My cameleers and I have crossed the plain;Through dust and toil we brought the laden train.

The crowns and bracelets in them well may graceA sovereign king of your illustrious race.

Let him who keeps your treasury see the store,And choose what suits its wealth; I ask no more.

I shall rejoice in anything you take;A king’s acceptance crowns the gifts I make.

The merchant’s part is only praise and prayer,And humble thanks beneath a monarch’s care.”

Arjasp then smiled on him and showed him grace,And set him in a more distinguished place.

He asked his name; the prince concealed his aim,And answered him, “Kharrad, my lord, by name.”

The king replied, “Good merchant, be at ease;Come freely here whenever you may please.

My doors stand open; enter without fear.”He asked what news the merchant chanced to hear.

Of both realms’ troops, he asked, and travel’s pain;The prince replied, “Five months we crossed the plain.”

The king then asked what Iran’s people sayOf Esfandiyar and Gorgsar on the way.

He said, “My lord, men speak as rumors guide:Some say, in anger, he his sire defied.

Some say, from Barghavan he led his forceTo take the Seven Stages as his course,

To fight in Turan, where his purpose lay,And make Arjasp for all his wrongs now pay.”

Arjasp laughed: “No man grown wise and oldWould credit such a tale as you have told.

Should any vulture cross the Stages’ span,Then call me Ahriman, no mortal man!”

The prince bent down and kissed the royal floor,Then left in joy and passed the palace door.

He opened up his shop to sell and buy;The fortress rang with every merchant’s cry.

He traded on; for wares worth gold, his priceWas one small silver coin, which would suffice.

The sun went down; the buyers went away,And trade was ended for another day.

His sisters left the palace, weeping, worn,With jars of water on their shoulders borne.

Heartbroken, bowed beneath affliction’s weight,They came in shame before the merchant’s gate.

When Esfandiyar saw their grief draw near,He hid his face from them, his heart in fear.

Their plight had filled his heart with deep dismay;Beneath his coarse wool gown he hid away.

Two streams of bloody tears ran down each face,As both drew near him in their deep disgrace.

The hapless women questioned him and said,“O wealthy merchant, fortune crown your head.

May all your days and nights be prosperous still,And nobles gladly serve your sovereign will.

Of Iran, Goshtasb, what news can you tell?And Esfandiyar; is our brother well?

We two, the daughters of the king of kings,Are captives here, deprived of royal things.

Barefoot, unveiled, in wicked men’s command,We carry water through this hostile land.

Our father has glad days and peaceful nights,While we go shamed beneath the strangers’ sights.

Blessed is she whose shroud conceals her shame,Beyond the public gaze and all its blame.

The tears we shed are blood from inward pain;Become our healer, and relieve our bane.

If you have any news of home to share,Your words may heal the poison of despair.”

Beneath his robe he gave a sudden shout;Both sisters shook with fear as it rang out.

“May Esfandiyar die, and perish tooWhoever speaks his name, as now you do.

May unjust Goshtasb also meet that end;May crown and belt no king like him attend.

Do you not see I trade to earn my bread?I work to keep myself supplied and fed.”

Homahyi knew his voice; the sound brought peace,And gave her anxious heart a brief release.

Yet though she knew him by his voice alone,She kept that knowledge hidden and unknown.

She stood before him stricken by her pain,And let her tears descend like pouring rain.

Her clothes were torn, her feet were in the dust,Her soul afraid of Arjasp’s wrath unjust.

The watchful prince perceived that Homahyi knew,And from beneath his veil his face he drew.

His eyes were wet, his heart with blood oppressed;His sunlike face revealed his soul’s unrest.

He marveled at the world’s relentless grip,And in his bitter anger bit his lip.

He said, “My sisters, keep our secret sealed;For these few days, let nothing be revealed.

I came for war, through hardship, to reclaimOur honor and to wipe away our shame.

The daughters carry water, the son weeps;Their father, free of sorrow, sweetly sleeps.

Let sky be father, earth be mother here;Give no such times your blessing or your cheer.”

He left the shop, and to Arjasp he raced:“May life and joy be yours, by fortune graced.

A deep sea lay along the road I went,Unknown to merchants in its vast extent.

Then from the sea a violent wind arose,And left us fearing how our lives would close.

The boatman said, ‘I never saw its peer’;We all were wretched, sick with mortal fear.

Aboard, we wept; our terror mounted higher,As though our bodies roasted on fierce fire.

I swore by God, the only Judge and Guide:If I escape alive from storm and tide,

Then in each realm where any monarch reigns,I shall hold feasts, released from all these pains.

I shall give gifts to everyone who calls,And honor every beggar in my halls.

Now let the monarch lend a gracious ear,And grant the heartfelt plea I offer here.

I wish to bid your foremost chiefs attend,The men whose deeds and prowess you commend.

This feast will bring my troubled heart release,And grant my soul its ornament of peace.”

Arjasp was pleased; his head with wind was filled,His foolish pride by all these honors thrilled.

He bade the nobles and the men of fameAttend the feast held in the merchant’s name.

“If he gives wine, then drink and take your fill,And feast with Kharrad freely at your will.”

The prince replied, “O king of noble birth,Wise ruler, sovereign of the spacious earth,

My house is small; your hall is grand and high;Let us feast on the rampart, near the sky.

Now summer is upon us; fires shall flare,And wine shall free your honored chiefs from care.”

Arjasp replied, “Sit where it suits you best;Within the palace, you shall be my guest.”

The joyful Pahlevan went back and stackedGreat loads of wood upon the roof, close-packed.

They slaughtered horses, lambs, and bore the meatUp to the fortress roof for all to eat.

The wood he heaped upon the fortress heightSent smoke that hid the very sky from sight.

When all had eaten, then he brought the wine,And had it served to all who came to dine.

The nobles left, all drunken, with a sprayOf fair narcissus carried on their way.

Night came; the prince lit fire upon the height;Its heat seemed to consume the sky that night.

The watchman from the lookout saw the blaze,And all the air was filled with smoky haze.

He hurried back, with joy upon his face,As though he and the wind were in a race.

He told him all he saw of flame and fume;And Bishutan replied amid the gloom:

“What lion could with brave men’s guile compare?What elephant could match the craft they bear?”

Bronze karnays rang; brass tabiras replied,And gavdam horns resounded far and wide.

The army crossed the plain to the Dezh’s wall;Its dust rose high and hid the sun from all.

All troops wore armor, helms upon each head;From every heart a rain of blood was shed.

News filled the Dezh: “A mighty force draws near;The world is dust, the face of day unclear.”

The Hold rang out with Esfandiyar’s name;Woe’s tree bore bitter gourds as trouble came.

Arjasp put on his jowshan, rubbed his hands,And gave the lion-catcher his commands.

“Take troops,” he said, “take gorz and sword and shaft.”He called to Turk-Khan, versed in battlecraft:

“And you, Turk-Khan, proud chief, ride out in pride;Take twelve full thousand warriors at your side.

Choose famous men, well tested in the field;Discover who has come with sword and shield.

Learn what they seek by riding out this way,What purpose brings this army to the fray.”

Turk-Khan went out, an interpreter near,To view the troops in all their battle gear.

He saw their jowshans, ready for attack,A leopard blazoned on a flag of black.

Bishutan held the center of the band;His warriors stood with blood on every hand.

He bore Esfandiyar’s own gorz, and placedUpon a famed warhorse, the foemen faced.

He seemed Esfandiyar himself, no less;They called him Shah of Iran in the press.

He formed his wings to left and right; the airGrew thick with dust that dimmed the daylight’s glare.

Bright diamond spearheads struck in such a rain,That clouds of crimson seemed to drench the plain.

Both armies moved together toward the fight,Each warrior eager for the clash of might.

Then Nush Azar, the swordsman, galloped out,And challenged all Turan with ringing shout.

Turk-Khan rode out to strike his foe down dead,And cast upon the dust his severed head.

When Bahman saw him on the battlefield,He drew his sword, its naked steel revealed.

He then split Turk-Khan in two at the waist;Kuhram felt grief and dread at what he faced.

Bahman charged through the center; rank and nameMeant nothing; lord and trooper were the same.

Thus army clashed with army in the fray;Black clouds of dust obscured the light of day.

Kuhram flew before the Iranian force,And drove his troops along their homeward course.

He said, “O famous monarch, crowned with light,A mighty force from Iran comes to fight.

Its leader shines among the warriors’ throng,Like Esfandiyar in form and stature strong.

None like him ever reached this fortress wall;He holds the spear that you may well recall.

He holds the very spear you saw him wieldAt Gombadan, upon the fortress field.”

The words distressed Arjasp and stirred old feud;He sent the Turks forth in a wrathful mood.

“Out to the plain! Surround them, one and all,And let the raging lion sound your call.

Leave none alive; erase their very name,Let no man speak of them or spread their fame!”

They marched with wounded hearts toward the fray,And thirst for vengeance drove them on their way.

As darkness deepened, he prepared to fight;He donned his battle armor in the night.

He raised the chest-lids so that air could flowTo those concealed and hidden from the foe.

He brought them roasted meat and wine to share,With battle gear and clothing fit to wear.

When they had eaten, each received full measure,Three cups of wine, which filled their hearts with pleasure.

He said, “This night brings danger; win your name,For deeds done here may earn us lasting fame.

Show all your strength; stand fast, what may befall,And make Yazdan your refuge over all.”

From those bold warriors tested for the deed,He formed three bands according to his need.

The first he sent within the stronghold’s heart,To fight all those they met in every part.

He sent the second band to hold the gate,And bade them let no clash of arms abate.

He told the third band, “None must live or flee;Not one who drank wine last night here with me.

Let not a trace remain when they are dead;Take up your khanjars; sever every head.”

With twenty valiant men he took his way,And gave the rest their charge without delay.

He roared in jowshan, lion loosed for fight,And reached Arjasp’s great palace in the night.

Homahyi heard the tumult through the hall,And with Bih Afrid hurried at the call.

Blood-tears had veiled their faces as they nearedTheir brother, who before them now appeared.

He saw his two veiled sisters, fresh as spring,And spoke of what this night of war might bring:

“Run swift as dust before the wind,” he cried;“Go to my market quarters; leave my side.

My gold and silver lie within that store;Go to my quarters; stay with me no more.

Avoid this fight, whatever lies ahead,Whether I win the crown or lose my head.”

He turned from them, his purpose fixed and clear,And stormed the inner palace without fear.

He entered with an Indian sword in hand,And cut down nobles of the royal band.

The audience chamber of that storied courtWas choked with dead of every rank and sort.

With wounded, crushed, and slaughtered men around,A troubled sea now seemed to flood the ground.

Arjasp awoke, alarmed by all the din,And rose in fury at the clash within.

In Roman helm and jowshan all arrayed,He gripped his khanjar with its gleaming blade.

With battle fury burning in his breast,He roared aloud, by blood and wrath possessed.

From palace halls brave Esfandiyar sprang,His Indian sword held ready as steel rang.

He cried, “This merchant brings the wares long due:A blade of vengeance, sharp and proven true.

This gift from Lohrasp bears a royal seal;Goshtasb’s own mark upon its deadly steel.”

They closed in savage combat, blade to blade,And sword-strokes rang where death already played.

At waist and head they struck with blow on blow,Till fierce Arjasp’s attack grew faint and slow.

No part of him was whole; he streamed with gore,His elephant-like bulk fell to the floor.

Then Esfandiyar struck off Arjasp’s head,And with it lay his empire’s power dead.

Such is the turning of the worldly wheel:Now sweetness, now the poison we must feel.

Why bind your heart to what must fade and go?Spare yourself toil; you cannot stay, you know.

With Arjasp slain, his uproar rose so highIt reached to Saturn in the distant sky.

He ordered candles lit; their flames shone brightThroughout the palace, filling it with light.

He left the harem in a servant’s care,And took its light away, and left it bare.

He set his seal upon the treasure door;No rival stood against him anymore.

He mounted, Indian sword still in his hand;Choice Arab steeds were saddled for his band.

He gave his sisters horses, then withdrewThrough Arjasp’s gate with all his chosen few.

From Dezh eight score of chosen riders came,All tried in war, all resolute in aim.

He left the gate in noble Sawa’s care,With several of Iran’s chiefs to share.

He said, “Bar Turks from entry once I go;When you judge I have reached our force below,

Cry from the lookout, ‘May King Goshtasb’s crownAnd head be blessed!’ Let that great shout ring down.

When fleeing Turks rush headlong toward this tower,Cast down Arjasp’s head to break their power.”

He swept the field and brought the Turks down low;Then joined his brother’s troops, who faced the foe.

Bishutan praised him; all his warriors gazedUpon such youthful courage, left amazed.

When the pale moon sank from her silver throne,And three long watches of the dark had flown,

The watchman shouted loudly from the height,“Goshtasb is Shah, with fortune burning bright.

May young Esfandiyar forever stand,With sky and moon and fortune at his hand.

Avenging old Lohrasp, his sword has shedProud Arjasp’s blood and struck away his head.

He cast the king to dust and raised on highGoshtasb’s great name and banner to the sky.”

The Turks all heard; Kuhram grew dark at heart,Struck cold by those loud cries and fear’s sharp dart.

He said to Andariman, “Cries at nightCannot be hidden; what has caused this plight?

What do you think? Who dares beside the kingTo raise his voice and make the darkness ring?

Send men to find him out and take his head,Whoever calls such omens, spreading dread.

If watchmen play such games while battles rage,Our chiefs will face a peril hard to gauge.

If one within our household serves the foe,And strengthens hostile hearts with words of woe,

Then with an iron gorz we break his brain,And make him answer for this traitorous strain.”

The watchman’s cry went on and would not cease;Kuhram’s fierce anger found no inward peace.

The cries from every side assailed their ears,And filled the listening nobles with new fears.

The soldiers said, “These cries exceed all bounds;The watchman fills the night with dreadful sounds.

First drive the foe within our walls away;Then find a way to face their troops’ array.”

Kuhram felt anguish tighten in his breast,And fear of what had happened gave no rest.

He told the troops, “The king’s affairs cause grief;This army’s plight allows me no relief.

We must return at once, without delay;I cannot tell what follows from this fray.”

At once they left the field in haste and fear;Then mailed Esfandiyar came thundering near.

With ox-head gorz he followed where they fled,His armor on, his foes still just ahead.

When Kuhram reached the gateway, looking back,He saw Iran’s troops following his track.

He cried, “What choice remains, but to engageThe brave Esfandiyar in battle’s rage?

Draw all your swords; let blades convey our word,And let the khanjar’s message now be heard.”

But fortune frowned; those chiefs met evil fate,And every hope of victory came too late.

The armies struck each other through the fray;The chiefs of Chin met doom at break of day.

Then from the Dezh the warriors hurled belowArjasp’s cut head, blood-darkened by the blow.

They flung the head of him who slew Lohrasp;A Turkish wail rose high for King Arjasp.

With helmets lifted off, they ceased the fight,And grief engulfed the troops at that grim sight.

Arjasp’s two sons wept in that dreadful hour,As though fierce fire had caught them in its power.

The army knew whose work had brought such woe,And whom to mourn amid that overthrow.

They cried, “O generous king, our valiant chief,Our hero and sepahbod, mourned in grief!

May he who slew you perish by the blade;May all his days be dark, his hopes betrayed.

To whom shall we entrust our baggage train?Whose flag shall on the army’s right remain?

Since now the center lacks its royal head,Let crown and army perish with the dead!”

From Khallokh to Taraz, grief filled the land;Now death was all that army could demand.

In jowshans, helms, with gorzes raised on high,They all advanced, prepared at last to die.

The battlefield rang loud with war and cries;The dust rose thick and blotted out the skies.

The slain lay everywhere in heaps around,And severed heads and limbs choked all the ground.

Here severed hands and gorzes lay in gore;Blood surged in waves against the fortress door.

No man could tell the left hand from the right;All blurred in dust and blood throughout the fight.

Esfandiyar pressed through the fierce attack;Kuhram stood firm and would not be forced back.

Those warriors grappled with such force and strain,They seemed one body locked in rage and pain.

The peerless chief seized Kuhram by the waist,And by his belt he raised him, firmly braced.

He dashed him to the earth with dreadful sound,While Iran’s warriors praised him all around.

They bound his hands and bore him off in shame;His troops dispersed; no help from them now came.

Then gorzes fell like hail; the earth belowWas strewn with shattered helmets, row on row.

The air grew thick with death; beneath the swordsHeads showered like leaves amid the charging hordes.

One shed his blood; another gained a throne;Blood dashed in billows over field and stone.

Here heads were trampled, there were heads crowned high;Fate speaks no word to tell us how or why.

Those who had mounts went fleeing from the fray;The dragon’s maw held others as its prey.

No help availed; their struggle brought them pain;Few Turks or men of Chin would now remain.

They cast off helms and jowshans, eyes blood-red;No name was spoken of the few who fled.

Before the prince they ran, their tears like rainThat springtime showers pour across the plain.

The bloodthirsty chieftain abused his power;His troops rejoiced in cruelty that hour.

He gave no quarter in that bloody strife,And had the wounded stripped at once of life.

No king in Turan now retained his throne;In Chin no chief remained whose name was known.

They moved the camp and all the royal tents,And left the field to corpses and laments.

With good and ill revealed, the prince then wentBeside the fortress wall and pitched his tent.

He raised two lofty gibbets by the wall;From them he let the twisted nooses fall.

Head-down, Andariman hung at the gate;His brother Kuhram shared his gallows fate.

He sent his troops wherever chiefs were found,And ordered fire to ravage all around.

They wrecked the cities of Turan with flame;No man was left who bore a noble name.

In Chin and Turan none remained to ride;No warrior’s name survived on either side.

As though a black cloud gathered overhead,It rained down fire upon the field of dead.

The prince saw how the struggle had been won;He called the chiefs and drank, his labor done.

Esfandiyar called forth a scribe to write,And told of cunning ploys and of the fight.

The scribe sat on the throne and called for these:A pen and silk, both Turkish and Chinese.

He dipped his pen; its tip grew black as night,Then praised Yazdan who gives the moon its light.

Yazdan of Saturn, Venus, and the sun,Of ant and elephant, the mighty One.

Yazdan of victory and farr divine,Of crown imperial and the royal sign,

Yazdan of soul and reason, whom we praise,Who grants us good and guides us on our ways.

He wrote, “May Goshtasb’s joy be ever bright;May earth still shine with Lohrasp’s name and light.

I reached Turan along a bitter road;Its grief would make youth bend beneath the load.

If I told all, young hair would turn to white,Yet when the Shah commands, I shall recite.

His face will gladden me and bring reliefFrom all the burden of this lasting grief.

I used my cunning ploys to gain releaseFrom vengeance, till my heart could rest in peace.

Arjasp and Kuhram now are there no more;The Hold is grief and wailing to its core.

I spared no life; the grass across the plainBore heads for fruit among the countless slain.

On human brains the lions and wolves feast;The leopard seeks but hearts, that mighty beast.

May Goshtasb’s crown light heaven with its glow;May earth grow roses for Lohrasp below.”

They set Esfandiyar’s seal upon the scroll,And chose fast riders, firm in heart and soul.

Swift hiyun bore his riders, foaming white,Toward Iran with the letter in their flight.

He quenched the evil-wisher’s burning flame,And waited till the royal answer came.

Before long came the answer, like a keyTo loose the bonds of ill and set him free.

The letter opened: “Blessed be the oneWhose path is just, whose righteous work is done.

The wise man knows Yazdan; with grateful praise,He thanks Him for the goodness of His ways.

I pray to God, the one whose ways are just,To guide your steps; in Him I place my trust.

No Tree Fereydoon planted bore more fruitThan mine in Paradise, where it took root.

Its fruit is rubies, red, and gleaming gold;Its leaves are beauty, farr in every fold.

May this Tree live forever, fresh and new;May joy and happy fortune stay with you.

First, you declared: ‘By counsel, craft, and strife,I sought revenge for my grandfather’s life.’

Second, of blood you shed, you made it knownHow you engaged in battle all alone:

The lives of kings are precious; lasting fameDoes not arise from war and battle’s flame.

Guard well your person, and your wisdom too;Through knowledge, wisdom feeds the soul in you.

Third, you declared: ‘Of all that mounted force,I spared no life throughout the battle’s course.’

Let mercy keep your heart from growing cold;Let modesty within your soul take hold.

Speak gently; do not live by blood and rage,Nor rashly with the chiefs in war engage.

The blood you shed for brothers, thirty-eight,Has passed all bounds in vengeance for their fate.

And then your aged grandfather, whose mindHad left all evil and deceit behind:

They shed his blood; you shed theirs in the fight,Like warrior lions in their wrath and might.

May you be happy, blessed in all you do;May wisdom be a teacher guiding you.

I long to see your face; in you I findThat wakeful soul where wisdom is enshrined.

When you have read this letter, mount your men,And bring your chiefs to join my court again.”

Swift from the royal gate the hiyun sped;Throughout Iran the news was quickly spread.

The hiyun riders came again to bringThe prince the written answer of the king.

He read the letter; dinars left his hand,And he made ready, as the king had planned.

He kept Arjasp’s own treasure set aside,But gave his kinsmen’s riches far and wide.

The warriors prospered through the gifts he gave,Bestowed by one so generous and brave.

Horses and camels stood on hill and plain,All branded for the Turan chief’s domain.

Ten thousand hiyun camels now were foundFrom heights and valleys, all the country round.

He bade a thousand camels carry gold,The royal dinars from Arjasp’s stronghold.

Three hundred more bore thrones and rich brocade,With royal crowns upon their loads arrayed.

Five score bore musk and ambergris and gems;Five score bore royal crowns and diadems.

A thousand carried tapestries of state,Brocaded, rich, and costly in their freight.

Three hundred carried clothes of Chin, and fineTheir fur and sable, silk of rich design.

He furnished litters, splendidly arrayed,And draped them with the richest silk brocade.

From Chin he carried two full troops of maids,With spring-bright cheeks, tall cypresses in glades.

Their waists were slender, and their steps as fleetAs pheasants moving lightly on their feet.

A hundred beauties, women of renown,Accompanied his sisters from the town.

Five women of Arjasp’s own royal raceWere taken too from that defeated place:

His mother and two daughters wept in pain;His sisters, two, went grieving in their train.

At last he fired the Ruyin Dezh’s proud wall;Its tongues of flame rose heavenward over all.

He razed the ramparts level with the ground,And shook all Chin as dust rose all around.

He gave his three young sons troops for the road,And said, “Keep watch upon the treasure-load.

If any turn from justice on your way,Cut off their heads with khanjars; do not stay.

Take now the desert road; bear spears that gleamAs brightly as the sun’s resplendent beam.

I shall return through all the Stages Seven,To hunt the lion under open heaven.

Do not delay; I take the road ahead;We meet when next the month begins,” he said.

Then brave Esfandiyar, with troops renowned,Rode toward the Stages, seeking hunting ground.

He reached the stage where snow and cold had reigned,And saw the baggage he had left remained.

The air was sweet, the earth with green was dressed;Though summer ruled, spring lingered in its breast.

He gathered up the goods and pondered fate,Amazed to find them in their former state.

He neared Iran, the home of men of might,Of lions and of heroes tried in fight.

He spent two weeks with hawks and cheetahs, thoughThe journey’s weariness still weighed him low.

He watched and waited for his noble sons,And anger rose against the tardy ones.

But when the armies and his sons appeared,His face grew bright; his former anger cleared.

He said, “The road I traveled was severe;Your long delay has vexed me, waiting here.”

The three sons kissed the ground with filial care,And said, “What father can with you compare?”

He took the treasure onward with his bandTo Iran, to the warriors of that land.

The people decked their cities to rejoice,With harp and wine and music’s lifted voice.

They draped the walls with hangings rich and fair,And scattered musk and ambergris through the air.

The air was filled with music all around;Spear-bearing horsemen crowded all the ground.

Goshtasb made merry when the news was known,And drank to those glad tidings from his throne.

He summoned all the chiefs throughout the land,And all the great who held the troops’ command.

With standards raised, tabiras rolled aloud,The chiefs rode out to meet him in a crowd.

His father too, with men of learning wise,Went out with Mobadan in shining guise.

Then Goshtasb came to greet him with delight,And all the city spoke of that glad sight.

When Esfandiyar beheld his father’s face,His heart grew joyful at that welcome grace.

He spurred his night-black horse, whose fiery strideCould set the blaze of battle spreading wide.

He came and clasped his father, holding tight;His father marveled at that wondrous sight.

He blessed him: “May the earth and time remainForever graced by you and by your reign.”

Then to the Shah’s great palace they returned,While all the world with goodwill toward him burned.

Goshtasb adorned the throne and palace bright;His son’s good fortune filled him with delight.

They spread the tables; to the chief he said,“Invite the nobles to the feast we spread.”

The drinkers came from every hall to meetThe Shah and join him at his royal seat.

In crystal cups the royal wine shone bright;The server, like the sun, was filled with light.

The faces of his friends were all aglow;His foes’ hearts burned with anguish and with woe.

The son drank to his father, free of boast;His father answered with an equal toast.

He asked about the Stages: “Now relateYour deeds before the nobles of our state.”

Esfandiyar replied, “Not now, not here;Let us not tell these tales amid our cheer.

Tomorrow, sober, we shall all recountThose ancient tales, a true and full account.

Then you shall hear, wise king of men, and ownThat God has triumphed by His power alone.”

Each guest withdrew when wine had loosed his mind,A moon-faced beauty’s hand with his entwined.

The tale of all the Seven Stages ends;My youthful spirit still its strength extends.

The just God gave me power to sing this song,Yazdan to whom both sun and moon belong.

If this should please the Shah, I shall have boundA saddle on the heavens turning round.

Upon the Shah’s soul may all blessings fall;May sudden grief not touch his heart at all.

Now drink good wine; the stream sends through the airA scent of musk, sweet fragrance everywhere.

How happy he with coin and bread to keep,With sweets and wine, who slaughters his own sheep.

I have no such supplies; good luck to thoseWho do! Have mercy on the poor man’s woes.

The gardens bloom with roses, row on row;On hills, the tulips and the hyacinths grow.

The sleepless bird sings; roses swell in bloom,And shake in wind and rain through night-time gloom.

I see the wind and moisture from the sky;Why should the pale narcissus droop and sigh?

The nightingale laughs on, and on the whiteRose opens up its beak in song’s delight.

I cannot tell: does rose or cloud love more?For from the cloud I hear a lion’s roar.

The garment tears; a hidden fire is shown,Its flashing flames like lightning outward thrown.

Earth bears the sky’s tears, testimony clearBefore the sun, the ruler of the sphere.

At dawn, hear Pahlavi beneath the rose;What is the grief its mourning notes disclose?

For dead Esfandiyar it mourns in pain;Of him, only its cries of grief remain.

Like Rostam’s voice, the cloud roars through the night,And tears the lions’ hearts and ears with fright.