Book D10The Bahram Goor Cycle: Justice, Foreign Adventures, and End of a Reign

When Bahram Goor was crowned and raised to reign,The sun acclaimed the Shah, and blessed his gain.

He worshipped God, the all-wise Lord on high,The watchful One who sees both earth and sky.

Yazdan of victory, whose glories shine,Who orders gain and loss by His design.

Yazdan of justice, counsel, and our bread,The Guide by whom our onward steps are led.

He said, “From Him I have received this crown;From Him, who fashions fortune, thrones come down.

From Him come hope and fear; to Him I raiseMy thanks for all His goodness, all my praise.

You too should glory in Him; strive each dayTo keep His covenant and never stray.”

Iran replied, “We stand prepared to serve;From faithful service we shall never swerve.

May this crown bless the Shah; may Fortune thrive,And keep his heart and happy lot alive.”

When praise was done, they scattered gems aroundThe king, whose fame rang out with joyful sound.

Bahram said, “Chiefs experienced and wise,Who know how Fortune falls and how she flies,

We all are slaves; God is the only Lord,And He alone deserves to be adored.

I shall keep you from evil days and dread,Nor make you beg ill-wishers’ help instead.”

He spoke; they rose and gave him homage then,And blessed him with their voices once again.

They talked throughout the night till morning’s rayRevealed the sun upon its heavenly way.

At sunrise, calm, he took the royal seat;Iran’s great chiefs came forth his words to greet.

He said, “You chiefs whom favoring stars have blessed,Trust God, rejoice in Him, and find your rest.

Boast not, and root out worldly greed and pride;Let not your hearts be tangled with its tide.”

He spoke; they called the royal horse to wait,And dressed his court in fitting royal state.

Upon the third day, seated, he declared,“The rites of worship must be shown and shared.

With God’s existence let our witness stand;And let the soul learn Faith and understand.

There is resurrection, heaven, and hell;Each soul shall reap its deeds, done ill or well.

Call no man wise or faithful in his wayWho disbelieves in Reckoning’s final day.”

The fourth day, on the ivory throne, he woreThe splendid crown that he had won before.

He said, “No treasure gives me such delightAs people whose contented hearts are bright.

This passing world I do not crave or claim;I grudge not leaving power, wealth, and fame.

The other world endures; this world will fade;Shun greed and grief; by neither be dismayed.”

The fifth day, “While I rule, no man’s distress,”He said, “shall ever bring me happiness.

We seek the joys that Paradise supplies;Blessed is he whose seed of good shall rise.”

The sixth day to his subjects he then said,“May I not seek your ruin, pain, or dread.

We will protect our forces from the foe,And make ill-wishers tremble where they go.”

The seventh day, when seated, he began:“You chiefs of wisdom, wary in your plan,

With harsh men, we shall deal as harshly too;With wise men, seek a friendship firm and true.

Those cold to me shall fare with harsher fateThan with my father in his angry state.

But those who do my will shall never knowThe weight of sorrow, injury, or woe.”

The eighth day, seated in his royal seat,He called for Javanuy, the scribe discreet.

He said, “To every chief in every land,Write letters bearing this our just command.

Let them be just and loving in their tone,And say, ‘Bahram sits joyful on the throne.

A lord of bounty, who will turn asideFrom crookedness, with truthfulness his guide.

His stature, justice, farr, and love are plain;Thoughts of the holy Judge alone remain.

He says, “I welcome loyal hearts; but crimeExcused will multiply with passing time.

I sit upon my father’s throne, and holdTo just Tahmuras’s customs as of old.

However far their hearts from right may swerve,All shall receive the justice they deserve.

I shall surpass my fathers in the right,And guide you to the Faith by wisdom’s light.

I follow Zardosht’s faith, the prophet’s way,And from my fathers’ path will never stray.

I set Zardosht’s old faith before my view,And Abraham, the prophet firm and true.

Let each be sovereign in his own affairs,And guard his march and Faith with equal cares.

Rule child and wife with wisdom at your door;Blessed are the wise and pure forevermore.

I will not fill my vaults with golden gain,For hoarded treasure keeps the poor in pain.

If God grants life and Fortune’s stars still shine,And lets their favor bless this life of mine,

Another joyful letter you shall see,With lasting wealth and honor yours to be.

Our greeting goes to every king and lord,Most warmly where love binds us in accord.”’”

Then on the letters royal seals were pressed;They called the envoys forth and had them blessed.

The Mobadan bore letters on their way,With wise, discerning riders in array.

Next day, when sunrise crowned the mountain height,And sleep was broken by the morning light,

Men with whom Bahram was displeased drew near,And begged that Monzer make their grievance clear.

They said, “Plead for us, that he may forgiveOur faults, and let our shaken spirits live.

The crimes of Yazdegard had chilled our blood,And drowned the nobles’ hearts in fear’s dark flood.

So much foul word and deed, distress and pain,Had made our hearts grow cold toward Bahram’s reign.

We suffered long beneath his father’s hand;Hence came our coldness, which you understand.”

Monzer’s warm pleading softened Bahram’s heart;His words prevailed through all persuasion’s art.

He pardoned all who played a guilty part,For he was just and noble from the start.

He decked the royal palace richly then,And all the good and great came there again.

When they had made the royal hall ornate,They seated worthy men by rank and weight.

In every place they spread the festive board,With wine and players striking harp and chord.

Next day another crowd came to his hall;The Shah still gladly feasted with them all.

The third day brought more revelry and feast;Wine flowed, and sorrow in the palace ceased.

He told what Numan and Monzer had done,Those stainless men through whom his crown was won.

The chiefs acclaimed the settled desert land,And praised the veterans of its Arab band.

The Shah then opened wide his treasury door,And filled the palace from its gathered store.

Gold, gems, brocade, with trappings, steed by steed,With jowshans, fragrant scents, for every need.

To Numan and Monzer he gave the hoard,While Javanuy counted out each reward.

No king could match the gifts he gave that day,Or all the pains he took to give away.

He gave the Arabs gifts, and let them go,Rejoicing in the wealth he could bestow.

He had a robe of honor brought, a mount,And Pahlevan’s rich garb of high account.

They gave these gifts to Khosrow by command,And seated him in honor, high and grand.

Then Bahram stepped down from his royal seat,And went toward Narsi, there his kin to greet.

This younger brother shared his heart and mind;Their speech agreed, their purposes aligned.

He made Narsi sepahbod of the force,To set the kingdom on an ordered course.

He placed the army in his brother’s care,And ruled with bounty, giving all their share.

He opened up the treasuries he held,Paid troops in dinars, and their gloom dispelled.

Then Bahram, friend of all, issued commandThat Gashasp, learned scribe, should take his stand.

With prudent Javanuy, chief of account,He came to calculate the tax amount.

The Shah commanded them to lift the loadOf all arrears the kingdom’s people owed.

They sought the counting-house to read each scroll,And went to Kayvan, master of the roll.

For he was expert in accounts and art,And knew the realm’s assessments part by part.

They summed arrears and found the total due,A mountain built from levies old and new.

They counted ninety-three million in arrears,In dirhams, debts accrued through former years.

He cleared the debts and burned each ledger-leaf;Iran rejoiced, its people freed from grief.

When all the people learned what he had done,They praised him mightily beneath the sun.

They flocked to fire-temples, festival halls,Where New Year joy and Sadeh filled the walls.

They cast sweet musk upon the sacred fire,And blessed the Shah with all their hearts’ desire.

He sent out men of knowledge far and wide,To travel through the world on every side.

He gathered exiles, scattered in his prideBy Yazdegard, in one town to abide.

He summoned them by letter to his hall,The freeborn nobles, sending word to all.

He gave each robes of honor and a place,With lands befitting each man’s rank and grace.

The nobles and Mobadan all heard the cryThe royal heralds raised as they passed by.

They visited his court with open heart,Their faces bright, their former fears apart.

He sent the suitors to the Mobad’s hall,The chief of priests, to judge the claims of all.

When all the world had knelt to him, he sentA herald to the gate with this intent:

“You subjects of the watchful Shah, abstainFrom sin and sorrow, anguish, fear, and pain.

Praise him whose justice makes the earth bear fruit,And brings prosperity from shoot to root.

Take refuge from the world with God alone,For He helps all; the world is all His own.

Who heeds our word and walks our loyal way,And never turns from fealty astray,

To him increasing favors we shall show,And from our hearts both hate and greed shall go.

But those who turn from justice and rebelShall know our punishment, and know it well.

If God grants strength, and Fortune turns her gaze,And crowns our labor with her brightening rays,

We shall increase our favors all your days,And you shall answer us with words of praise.”

At these words all the people went away,With joyful hearts and faces bright as day.

The throne stood firm; joy grew throughout the land,And sorrow dwindled under his command.

One day Bahram Goor rode out on his way,With chosen warriors, seeking lion prey.

An old man, staff in hand, approached the king,And said, “God-fearing Shah, hear what I bring.

Within our town two men are known by name;One rich, one poor, their fortunes not the same.

Baraham the Jew, a miscreant knave,Has gold and silver, more than hearts could crave.

But Lambak bears men water and is kind,A gracious host, warm-hearted and refined.”

Bahram asked his attendants to explainThe old man’s words, and make their meaning plain.

A worthy said, “Great king of noble name,Lambak’s good words and welcome earn acclaim.

He carries water, generous and kind,With food to share and friendliness of mind.

Half of each day he bears his water round;The rest he seeks where travelers may be found.

He leaves no store behind for days unborn,But gives as though for giving he was born.

Baraham’s heart is barren, hard, and cold;His grasping nature plainly could be told.

He has great hoards of dirhams, locked and sealed,Brocaded furnishings, and gold concealed.

Yet no one sees his bread or tastes his meat;He hates the guest who enters from the street.”

The Shah then bade a herald cry aloud:“Go to the market; tell the gathered crowd:

‘Whoever buys from Lambak at the wellShall feel the Shah’s fierce wrath; let none rebel.’”

He waited till the sun began to fade,Then rode a swift horse through the evening shade.

Like wind he came to Lambak’s humble gate,And struck the ring, though night was growing late.

He cried, “A captain of Iran am I;I missed the Shah as darkness filled the sky.

Grant me a lodging underneath your roof;Of kindness that would be a noble proof.”

Pleased by the voice that spoke so fair and clear,Lambak rejoiced, that friendly speech to hear.

He said, “Come, Pahlevan; be welcome here!May you be one the Shah holds ever dear.

Had ten companions come with you instead,Each would have been a moon above my head.”

Bahram dismounted; Lambak took the steed,And tended it with glad and careful heed.

He rubbed it down and tied the horse, then passedA cord around its neck to hold it fast.

When Bahram sat, his host ran up to bringA chessboard, which he set before the king.

He furnished all things needful with delight,And found the means to feed his guest that night.

He said, “My noble guest, put play aside;Leave chess, and eat the meal I now provide.”

When they had eaten, and their spirits soared,The host brought wine, and merry cheer was poured.

The Shah was filled with wonder at the feast,The kindly words, the cheer that never ceased.

He passed the night there; at the break of day,His host’s voice woke him as asleep he lay.

He said, “Your horse, in truth, fared ill last night;Its needs were not attended to quite right.

Stay one more day; if company would please,A friend shall come to put you at your ease.

We shall provide what may delight you all;Stay happily today within my hall.”

The king replied, “My tasks today are few;I have no pressing business to pursue.”

He took his skins and went to sell his store,But found no buyers for the load he bore.

Distressed, he pulled his shirt off, then drew nearAnd gathered to his breast his carrying gear.

He pawned his linen sash without delay,And bought fresh meat and curds and came away.

He set the pot upon the fire to boil,While Bahram marked his generous care and toil.

Lambak prepared the meal; they ate their fill,Then sat with wine in friendship and goodwill.

All night Bahram drank deep and freely poured;Wine-loving Lambak kept him at the board.

At dawn he hurried in to greet his guest,And spoke with warmth, and made this glad request:

“Be merry always; may all toil depart,And trouble never weigh upon your heart.

Spend one more day with me, and I shall holdYour company as dear as life and gold.”

Bahram replied, “God grant that I may stay,Nor lose, with such a friend, this third glad day.”

The water-carrier blessed him: “May you keepA wakeful heart, and Fortune never sleep.”

He pledged his very water-skin in trade,And on his gear a final bargain made.

He bought what he required and homeward sped,Rejoicing as he brought the meat and bread.

He said to Bahram, “Help prepare the meat;For nourishment, a man has need to eat.”

Bahram took up the meat and cut it through,Then cooked it on the fire, and made the stew.

When they had eaten, wine and cups were brought;The king of kings came first in toast and thought.

When they had drunk, he made his guest a bed,And set a candle near his resting head.

The fourth day, when the sun dispersed the gloom,Bahram awoke within the humble room.

His host approached and said, “O man of mark,You have stayed in this house, so cramped and dark.

You find no comfort here; yet if you seeNo cause to fear Iran’s Shah, stay with me.

Stay two weeks more within my mean abode,If such a wish should draw you from the road.”

Then Shah Bahram blessed him and replied,“May mirth and happiness with you abide.

Three days within this house were spent in glee,While cups were raised to kings of each degree.

Elsewhere I shall recount all you have done,To brighten heart and mind with joy thus won.

Your hospitality shall yield you fruit;Persist, and crowns and thrones may follow suit.”

Swift as the dust, he saddled up his steed,And gladly sought the chase with eager speed.

He hunted till night veiled the mountainside,Then from his group of men he turned aside.

He slipped away and sought the miser’s door,The house of Baraham, who hoarded store.

He knocked and said, “The Shah returned from chase,But I was left behind and lost my place.

Night has come on; I cannot find the way,Nor find the Shah or troops who rode today.

If I may lodge within this house tonight,I shall disturb none till the morning light.”

A servant went to Baraham to tellWhat words the rider spoke, reporting well.

Baraham said, “Be easy; tell him so:There is no lodging here, and he must go.”

The servant carried out that curt reply:“My master will no lodging here supply.”

Bahram replied, “Go back and tell him plain:‘I mean to stay the night; I shall remain.

I ask a corner only till the day;No further claim shall on his household weigh.’”

The servant ran within and made report:“This horseman will not leave the outer court.

He will not leave tonight; though long we pleaded,He stays, and not a word of ours is heeded.”

Then Baraham replied, “Go tell him straight:‘This house is small and poor in its estate.

The Jew is poor; each night he sleeps on ground,Bare, hungry, with no comfort to be found.’”

They brought the message; Bahram answered plain,“Without a lodging, trouble will remain.

I shall sleep by your door and seek no more;That is the only shelter I ask for.”

“Brave Pahlevan,” said Baraham, “I fearYour thoughtless conduct brings me trouble here.

If someone robs you while you sleep tonight,You will trouble me with your sorry plight.

If dire need drives you, enter and abide,But ask for nothing once you come inside.

I have no cloth to dry my corpse when dead,Nor shroud to wrap me for my final bed.

Your horse needs fodder; you need food; the loadOf both will fall on me and my abode.

If dung or urine from your horse should fall,Or it should break the bricks within this hall,

At dawn you shall sweep dung from off the floor,And bear it to the plain outside my door.

For broken bricks you must repay the cost,When you awake, to make good what is lost.”

Bahram replied, “I pledge my head to bearThese burdens, and perform my promised share.”

He stepped down, tied his horse with bridle tight,And drew his sword, unsheathing it that night.

He spread the felt, stretched out upon the ground;His saddle was his pillow; sleep he found.

The miser locked the door and brought out food,Then sat to eat alone in selfish mood.

He said, “O horseman, hear this ancient lore;Remember it, and keep it evermore.

The man who has the means may eat his fill;The man without must watch, and hunger still.”

Bahram replied, “I know that proverb well;The ancient sages had that tale to tell.

I heard it once; I see it here tonight,The sage’s words brought plainly into sight.”

The miser brought out wine to crown his meal;The drink increased the joy that he could feel.

He cried, “O horseman, worn by toil and care,Hear this old saying, which I now declare:

‘The man of substance keeps a happy mind,And in his wealth a jowshan he will find.

But empty pockets bring a dry-lipped plight,Like you, half-starved here in the dead of night.’”

Bahram replied, “I must not soon forgetThe marvels that within this house I met.

If wine should bring you fortune bright and clear,Bless drinker, wine, and cup that brings such cheer.”

When sunrise showed its sword above the height,Bahram Goor rose and left the sleep of night.

He saddled up his hungry mount of gray;A saddle? No, the headrest where he lay.

Then Baraham approached and said, “O guest,You have not kept the word that you professed.

You said you would sweep up your horse’s waste;Now take it out, and do it all with haste.

I am annoyed by guests who lie and cheat;Remove the dung before you leave my street.”

Bahram replied, “Go fetch a slave instead;He shall clear dung away from where it spread.

I shall give gold to sweep up every grain,And bear the refuse out upon the plain.”

The miser said, “I have no slave for work;Take it away yourself and do not shirk.

Fling it into the ditch and keep your word;Let no charge of dishonor now be heard.”

Bahram Goor heard and chose another way;A fresh idea would guide him through the day.

Within his boot a silken cloth was pressed,With musk and fragrant spices richly dressed.

He wrapped the droppings in that silken fold,And flung them in the ditch as he was told.

Then Baraham ran out and snatched it fast,While Shah Bahram stood stunned at what had passed.

“Most upright man, should our Shah come to hearYour noble deeds, he shall hold you most dear.

The great king would secure you from all dearth,And rank you with the chiefs of highest birth.”

He left and came back to his palace hall,And planned throughout the night what should befall.

He lay down full of thought, and laughed alone;But kept the secret, letting none be shown.

At dawn the Shah sat crowned to arbitrate,And let the army enter through the gate.

He summoned Lambak, who obeyed the call,And stood with folded arms within the hall.

They brought in Baraham, whose mind was bentOn malice, and whose heart held ill intent.

When he arrived, they bade him sit and stay,Then called an honest man without delay.

The Shah said, “Take pack animals in hand,And let strict justice guide what you have planned.

Go to the house of Baraham, and packWhatever hoards you find, and bring them back.”

The honest man went to the miser’s door;He found it crammed with hoard and heaped-up store.

There lay brocades, dinars, and robes in rows,With carpets, draperies, and silken clothes.

A caravanserai stood in the court;For all the goods, the space was far too short.

There gleamed pearls, rubies, gems of every hue,And crowns atop the bags that came to view.

The Mobad could not count the wealth amassed,And called from Jahram a thousand camels fast.

They loaded them; some goods were left behind;He drove the train away with cheerful mind.

When caravan bells sounded at the gate,The honest man went in to tell their state.

“Your gems are matched by these; yet in that holdTwo hundred kharvars still are left, all told.”

The Shah was struck with wonder at this sight,And pondered what the hoard had brought to light.

He thought, “The miser labored hard for gain,Yet gained no sustenance for all his pain.”

A hundred camel-loads of gold they made,With dirhams, furnishings, and goods arrayed.

He gave to Lambak all this treasure bright;The water-carrier bore it from his sight.

Then Bahram called the miser back and said,“O man whose meanness makes the dust his bed,

How long did your own prophet live, you say?Why weep for so much surplus wealth today?

A horseman came and spoke these words to me,An ancient saying, plain for all to see:

‘The man who has enjoys his ample fare;The man without grows withered in despair.’

Now loose your grip on all you would not spare,And watch the water-carrier take his share.”

Of dung and cloth and bricks the monarch told,Recalling too the fabric worked with gold.

He gave four dirhams, saying, “For your part,Take these as capital to make a start.

No more befits you; let the poor be fedWith all your wealth, while you retain your head.”

He gave the goods to those whose worth was known;The miser went away with wail and groan.

He gave the house to plunder on that day;Let others have their turn to take away.

He turned his thoughts to cheetah, hawk, and chase,And rode a swift steed from the royal place.

With hawk in hand, he rode in eager quest,To hunt the game he loved and favored best.

He found a wood, a wealthy lord’s retreat,A thickly wooded place, serene and sweet.

As green as Paradise, a lovely glade,No man or beast appeared beneath its shade.

He said, “This is a place where lions dwell,Where daring warriors prove their mettle well.”

He rode and searched the woodland all around,And scanned each part of that secluded ground.

Within the wood a savage lion appeared;He saw the need for swordplay as it neared.

He shouted at the lion standing near,And strung his bow, a warrior without fear.

He shot through side and heart; the lion fell,His mate’s heart burned, and grief began to swell.

She charged at Bahram, roaring in her wrath,And struck with claws at him across her path.

He struck her middle with his sharpened blade;The beast gave up the fight beneath the shade.

An old man left the wood with words of grace;Sweet speech was ready as he neared the place.

His name was Mehr Bandad; his heart was gladTo see the force that Bahram’s sword-stroke had.

He was a country lord who worshipped God;That wood was home, the place his footsteps trod.

With courteous words he blessed the Shah, and bowed,Approaching low, with reverence avowed.

He said, “Famed chief, may Fortune’s guiding starAttend your wishes, whether near or far.

A country lord am I, as I declare;This march, these fields, this house are in my care.

I own the ox, the ass, the grazing sheep;Those lions plunged my heart in darkness deep.

God worked through hand and hilt to end our fear,And through your thumb-ring; now our way is clear.

Stay in this wood and let me serve you hereWith milk and wine and honey for your cheer.

My lambs are yours, as many as you please,And shade and rest beneath my fruiting trees.”

The Shah dismounted, viewed the woodland scene,With running waters winding through the green.

It seemed a haven made for youth’s repose,A place of ease where pleasure ever flows.

Then Mehr Bandad brought minstrels to the glade,And village chiefs, with festive food arrayed.

He slaughtered many fattened sheep and came,A golden cup in hand, his face aflame.

When they had eaten bread, they brought the wine,With rose and fenugreek beside it, fine.

The host drank first, then poured for him, and pressedEach comfort on his seated noble guest.

When Mehr Bandad grew merry from the cup,He said, “Fair hero, Fortune lifts you up.

You seem the Shah, or else the full moon’s light,That shines upon the world at dead of night.”

Bahram replied, “Indeed, your words are wise;The King of kings designed my face and eyes.

He fashions as He wills, in every way;He neither grows nor dwindles day by day.

If I resemble the Shah in face and air,I grant this wood and dwelling to your care.”

He mounted, drunk, and rode away to restWithin his pleasant palace, wine-possessed.

He lay awake, still drunk, throughout the night,Remembering loved lips with keen delight.

He spent his time with friends in merry cheer,And told them varied tales for all to hear.

Next morning he took seat and called for wine;The captains came before him in a line.

Among them came a noble of the land,With fruit in camel-loads at his command.

With pomegranates, apples, quince in trays,With posies for the court, to win its praise.

The Shah beheld him, hailed him warm and true,And set him with the Pahlevans in view.

The noble bore a name from ancient days:Kabruy, as named in old Pahlavi phrase.

He saw the Shah, the nobles, and the feast,And felt his joy at all he saw increased.

He saw a crystal goblet filled with wine;His heart grew restless at its tempting shine.

He reached among the nobles, seized the cup,And sprang upon his feet to lift it up.

He toasted the king of kings, and made his claim:“I am a drinker; Kabruy is my name.”

Before the Shah, he drained that brimming bowl,And swallowed all its contents, full and whole.

The cup held five man; then he made this vow:“I shall drink seven here, with steady brow.

Then sober to my village I shall go;No drunken shouting shall my neighbors know.”

He drank all seven, and surpassed the rest;Among those drinkers, none could match his quest.

Then by the Shah’s permission he withdrew;Who knows what all that wine had put him through?

He left the joyful city for the plain,With heated wine alive in heart and brain.

He galloped far beyond his retinue,Toward the hills where shaded grasses grew.

He left his horse, found shelter on the ground,And slept beneath the mountain shade he found.

A black crow from the mountains then came down,And pecked his eyes, with no one else around.

His escort followed where his horse had sped,And found him at the mountain lying dead.

The black crow had pecked out his eyes that day;His horse stood there beside him on the way.

His servants wailed above him in their grief,Cursed feast and cup that robbed them of their chief.

When Bahram woke within his royal place,A well-wisher approached him face to face.

He said, “A crow has pecked out Kabruy’s eyes,Where he lay drunk beneath the open skies.”

The Shah grew pale; grief filled his heart with pain,As sorrow for Kabruy began to reign.

Then from the royal court a herald cried,“You men of farr and judgment, far and wide,

Let Pahlevans and craftsmen all abstain;Wine is forbidden throughout my domain.”

Thus passed a year while wine remained denied,And lips were turned from wine on every side.

Even when the Shah held feast or heard old lays,Wine stayed forbidden through those sober days.

None drank or longed for wine in feast or spree;Its color and its scent had ceased to be.

Now at that time a young shoemaker wedA wealthy wife, well-known and nobly bred.

But he failed in his duty as a groom,And left his mother sunk in bitter gloom.

She grieved aloud for his distressing case,Yet had some wine stored in a hidden place.

She took her son aside and bade him drinkSeven cups, to bring his heart back from the brink.

“Tonight you may yet breach that seal so tight;No pick of felt can quarry stone outright.”

He drank the seven cups his mother gave;His manhood stiffened, and his heart grew brave.

The cups had made the young man bold and bright;He came, achieved his purpose in the night.

He sought his mother’s door in happy mood,His former helplessness at last subdued.

A royal lion had escaped its chain,And roamed in majesty along the lane.

The shoemaker was still so full of wine,He could not count his fingers in a line.

He ran and mounted on the roaring beast,And clutched its ears, not frightened in the least.

The lion had been fed and did not spring;The youth sat firm as on some harmless thing.

The keeper hurried after them in fear,With chain in hand and kamand gathered near.

He saw the youth astride the lion, sureAs on a donkey, careless and secure.

He ran at once before the palace gate,And told the Shah this marvel, strange and great.

He swore he saw the sight with his own eyes:A prodigy beneath the turning skies!

The Shah called chiefs and Mobadan to hand,And bade them trace his lineage through the land.

“Discover if his blood be rich and rare;If Pahlevan-born, such courage fits the heir.”

They questioned then his mother at great length:“Is he above his trade in birth and strength?”

His mother hurried to the Shah to speak,And told the secret he had sent to seek.

“Live happily till time itself has died;He wed but failed to satisfy his bride.

His wife declared, ‘This weakling stands alone;No seed of manhood in his flesh is shown.’

In secret, seven cups of wine I poured,Until his wilted vigor was restored.

His cheeks grew red; the felt, once limp and prone,Now raised its head and hardened into bone.

His grandfather was shoemaker by trade;The youth has followed in the path he made.

His lineage? Seven cups of vintage wine!Who dreamed the Shah would probe this blood of mine?”

The Shah laughed at the woman, then declared:“This story must be told and widely shared.”

He told the Mobad, “Wine shall be allowed;Choose well the men who drink among the crowd.

Drink so that you can mount a lion still,And keep your seat against the creature’s will.

Not like the man who, helpless on the way,Lay drunk, both eyes the black crow’s helpless prey.”

A cry rang from the gate, both loud and clear:“You golden-belted warriors, all hear:

Drink wine in measure; weigh what you intend,And look from each beginning to its end.

When wine brings joy, take care that you remainIts master, lest your body bear the strain.”

Next day at dawn the Shah took up the reinTo hunt with all his soldiers on the plain.

Hormizd rode on his left; and on his rightRode Rozbeh, that high Mobad of insight.

They told of Jamshid’s crown and bygone days,And Fereydoon, whom all the world would praise.

Before them hounds and cheetahs coursed the plain,With hawks and falcons wheeling in their train.

Thus they made short the long and tedious day,While the sun climbed and burned upon their way.

Yet neither deer nor Gur-e-Khar appeared;The Shah grew hot, his inward temper seared.

Troubled by heat, he turned from hunting back,And left the field along the homeward track.

He reached a settled, green, and fertile spot,With homes and cattle; want and care forgot.

The monarch, vexed and overcome by heat,Had chosen that same village for his seat.

The people came to gaze upon the king,But none pronounced the blessings they should bring.

One would have thought each villager a beast,A tethered ass that stirred not in the least.

Its folk disgusted him; he turned his face,And spoke in anger of that ill-starred place:

“Let this green village be the wild beasts’ den;Let pitch-black water turn its fields to fen.”

The Mobad understood the Shah’s intent,And turned his horse, and to the village went.

He told the folk, “This fruitful, verdant site,With men and cattle, pleased the Shah’s own sight.

Now hear the king’s command, and heed his planTo raise this village in the eyes of man.

He lifts you all to one and equal state,The lord and laborer alike in weight.

This pleasant village shall achieve renown;Each one among you wears a chieftain’s crown.

Here lord and hireling shall be counted one,With women, children, every daughter, son.

Each one is chief, and none shall bend the knee;No other master rules you: you are free.”

The settlement rang loud with joyful noise,For all were lords, and shared the lordly joys.

A woman’s word now bore a man’s full weight;The slave and hireling shared the master’s state.

The village youths grew reckless; blood was shedAs they struck off their village chieftain’s head.

They fell upon each other in the street,And blood was shed beneath their trampling feet.

Amid confusion, people fled in fear;The helpless aged stayed as ruin drew near.

No tools for work, no goods or crops remained;The settlement by ruin’s hand was stained.

Its trees were withered and its streams ran dry;The people with their beasts began to fly.

The land lay ruined, every house decayed;No work restored the wreck that strife had made.

A year passed by; and when the spring was new,The Shah went hunting where that ruin grew.

He reached the spot, once populous and bright,And saw all overturned before his sight.

The trees were withered, dwellings crushed and bare;No man or beast was moving anywhere.

The Shah turned pale, and fear of God arose;And justice stirred his heart at all these woes.

He said to Rozbeh, “What a grievous sight:This village ruined, once so fair and bright.

Go now and use my treasures to restoreThis place, and heal the harm its people bore.”

The Mobad bowed, departed, spurred his horse,And for the ruined township set his course.

He hurried through each quarter, searching round,Until an elder, lacking work, was found.

Dismounting, he saluted him, and badeThe elder sit beside him in the shade.

He said, “Old honored man, explain to me:Who wrecked this district, once so fair to see?”

The old man answered, “Once our monarch passedThrough these parts, and ruin followed fast.

A witless Mobad came along our way,With foolish counsel and a proud display.

He said to us, ‘You all are lords and free;Defer to none, whoever he may be.

Be masters all, each woman, man, and slave,And rank as great among the great and brave.’

Such were his words; the township shook with strife,With rapine, murder, blows, and wasted life.

May God reward him as his deeds are due,And send him grief and hardship through and through.

Our case grows worse; whoever sees our lotMust weep for what has vanished and is not.”

Then Rozbeh, grieved to hear the old man’s tale,Asked, “Who is chief here, where all things now fail?”

The elder said, “A chief is found where seedAnd grass bear produce for the people’s need.”

Rozbeh replied, “Be governor today;Stand like a crown and guide the proper way.

Draw gold dinars from royal stores to gainBoth ox and ass, provisions, tools, and grain.

Bring to the village all who lack employ;Let labor turn this ruin back to joy.

They all are subjects; you alone are chief;Let ordered rule bring comfort after grief.

Do not curse that old Mobad for his part;Those words were not the wishes of his heart.

Need helpers from the court? Then I shall send;Ask what you will, and I will be your friend.”

The elder rejoiced to hear that healing word,And from long grief his loosened heart was stirred.

He hurried home and brought the people downBeside the pool that served the ruined town.

He marked the plots and reassigned the lands,And placed the labor into willing hands.

They asked their neighbors for both ox and ass,And furnished all the plain with seed and grass.

He and his settlers labored hard and long,And planted trees to make the township strong.

One quarter flourished, green with springing corn;All eyes found joy that had been schooled to mourn.

Those who had fled with heart’s blood in their eyesReturned when healing rumors bade them rise.

They heard the white-haired chief had toiled and wrought,And back to streets and channels they were brought.

They cleared the channels; water reached the grain;Fowl, cattle, sheep, and asses filled the plain.

Across the settled fields their numbers grew,And people planted trees where ruin withdrew.

A paradise now bloomed before their eyes;The third year proved the elder’s labors wise.

The town was fully healed through patient toil,And blessing rested on that mended soil.

When joyful spring came round, the Shah bestrodeHis horse to hunt; Rozbeh beside him rode.

As they drew near the hamlet, Bahram sawA world of crops and cattle kept by law.

Tall mansions rose; the town stretched far and wide,With sheep and oxen seen on every side.

Streams and gardens, crops, and pleasure grounds,With fenugreek and tulips crowned the mounds.

On hill and dale the lambs and sheep were seen;The place was clothed in paradisal green.

The Shah said, “Rozbeh, tell what you have wrought:How was this village first to ruin brought?

And what did you expend to make it rise,With men and beasts restored before my eyes?”

The high Mobad replied, “By words it fell,And words restored it, as I now shall tell.

The Shah had said, ‘Take treasure, coin, and all,And make this verdant place to ruin fall.’

But fearing God, and fearing men’s reproof,I sought a lesson that would stand as proof.

When one heart turns to two conflicting ends,It ruins both the courses it intends.

When two men rule together in one place,The wise man stands bewildered by the case.

I told the elders, ‘No one rules you now;Let none command, and none to any bow.

Women, children, slaves, and laborers allAre lords alike in village, street, and hall.’

When lowly men became as lords instead,Down to the dust was brought the chieftain’s head.

My words brought ruin; I was free and clearOf blame, and had no wrath of God to fear.

And when at last the Shah’s compassion woke,I went and gave the wiser words I spoke.

I chose a learned elder to command,A wise, well-spoken guide to all the land.

He labored and restored the ruined part,And joy returned to every subject’s heart.

When one man ruled, all counsel turned to good;Wrong waned, and goodness flourished where he stood.

I showed them evil through a veiled display,Then opened up the door to God’s own way.

Speech, used where it belongs, is worth far moreThan all the precious gems within your store.

Let wisdom be the Shah, the tongue its might,If you would keep your spirit calm and bright.

May joy forever fill the sovereign’s heart;May ruin and all crookedness depart.”

The Shah cried, “Well done, Rozbeh! Such a mindDeserves a crown for wisdom of this kind.”

He gave one purse of gold dinars to showThe honor that such wisdom ought to know.

They fashioned him a robe of kingly thread,And raised toward the clouds his honored head.

A week passed by; the monarch rode to chaseThe mountain game, with all his lordly race.

With Mobadan then gathered at his side,A month he drank and hunted far and wide.

He reveled with his noble hunting train;Their catch passed measure on the hills and plain.

Rejoicing, back toward the town he turned;Night fell, and scarce a pathway was discerned.

The chiefs rode on together on their way,And spoke of Shahs as evening died away.

Bahram beheld a fire that lit the night,Such as a king at Bahman’s feast might light.

The king of kings peered closely at the blaze,And saw a village, pleasant to his gaze.

A mill stood near it, and beside the flame,The village chiefs sat gathered, each by name.

The maidens feasted, gathered close and fair,With crowns of roses set upon their hair.

The minstrels sat around; the maidens sangOf royal wars until the valley rang.

Each sang in turn; their voices rose and fell;Their moonlike faces cast a lovely spell.

Their locks were curled, their voices sweet and clear,And musk seemed breathing from their presence near.

They sat ranked on the grass beside the mill,Each with a posy, bright and singing still.

Half-flushed with wine and merriment, they cried,And one gave Bahram’s toast with royal pride.

She said, “To Shah Bahram, whose farr is bright,Whose stature, love, and mien command the sight.

Through him the wheeling heavens hold their place;Wine seems to trickle from his glowing face.

His black hair breathes out musk; he hunts no preyBut lions and wild asses on his way.

Therefore the people name that monarch sureBy his great hunting title: Bahram Goor.”

On hearing this, he rode toward that fair throng,And saw the moon-faced maidens ranged along.

He saw the road to town was long that night,And called for wine and friends to share delight.

They brought him wine and friends at his command,And set a crystal goblet, rich and grand.

Four maidens then, the highest of that band,Came forth together, walking hand in hand.

Moshknaz came, with Moshkanak beside,Then Naztab and Susanak in their pride.

With cheeks like spring, in stately step they drew,And sang the praises that to kings are due.

They praised the king of kings, the wise and great;Their beauty left his heart in troubled state.

He asked, “Whose daughters are you, roses bright?And why have you set this great fire alight?”

One said, “O Pahlevan of cypress height,So like a king in bearing and in sight,

Our father is an aged miller here,Who hunts for game upon the mountain near.

He will return now that the night has grown,For darkness makes the hunter’s path unknown.”

The miller and his men then came with game;His eyes fell on Bahram’s commanding frame.

He rubbed his face upon the dusty ground,Then stood before him, all his men around.

The Shah commanded, “Bring the old man cheer,And set a golden goblet for him here.”

He said, “Why keep these four with sunny face?Is it not time they found a marriage place?”

The old man praised him: “We have found no groom;So they have lingered in their father’s room.

They still are maidens, chaste; they claim no gold,For virtue is the only wealth they hold.

This is all I possess and all I say;No dowry stands to send them on their way.”

Bahram replied, “Give me these daughters four;Why should they wait as maidens anymore?”

The old man said, “Do not withdraw your word;Let what you promised stand as I have heard.

We have no cups, no land, no crops to store,No silver, house, or ox or ass; no more.”

Bahram replied, “No wealth need come with them;I ask no goods, no coin, no precious gem.”

The miller said, “The four shall be your wives,And serve within your chambers all their lives.

Your eye has seen whatever good or illThey bear, and still approves them by your will.”

Bahram replied, “From God, who gives us all,I take these maidens at His gracious call.”

He spoke and rose; the steeds began to neigh,And all his escort stirred to move away.

He bade the eunuchs of his train to bearThose idols to the women’s royal care.

The troops streamed through the fields throughout the night;The miller stood amazed at such a sight.

He mused all night and said then to his wife,“What moonlike lord has entered thus our life?

With such a stately form and princely grace,How did he find by night our humble place?”

She said, “He saw the fire’s distant light,And heard the daughters singing in delight.

He brought us wine and minstrels for the feast,Drawn by the merry songs that had not ceased.”

The miller said, “Advise me, O my spouse;Will good or ill come to this humble house?”

She said, “All comes from God; he saw each face,And did not ask about their blood or race.

He sought four moons, not wealth that rank could bring,Nor wished to wed the daughter of a king.

If idol-makers out in Chin saw these,Their idols would no longer hearts appease.”

They spoke of men of good and evil ways,Till sun on Raven’s back brought morning’s rays.

At dawn the village chief came hurrying near,And said, “Good fortune paid a visit here.

Your tree’s green branches now have borne their fruit;Bahram rode by here, homeward from pursuit.

He saw your fire and turned toward your gate;Your daughters now reside in royal state.

They rest secure as wives within his hall;His private chambers now receive them all.

In face and hair and carriage bright and rare,You raised them for the Shah’s own royal care.

Bahram is now your son-in-law; your nameWill spread through every country with your fame.

He gives this province to you as your part;Let grief and fear no longer press your heart.

We all are now your subjects, yours to lead;Your servants, who your least command will heed.

Give your commands; each one we shall fulfill.We are your servants, subject to your will.”

The miller and his wife, amazed, were stirredTo call on God; the village khan was heard:

“Such locks and faces, splendid in their bloom,Would draw the fourth-sphere sun down as a groom.”

A week passed by; he hunted once again,With chiefs and Mobadan and other men.

Swift as the wind, a loyal subject drew near,With spade in hand, his purpose plain and clear.

He asked the troops, “Where does Bahram abide?Where in these ranks may I approach his side?”

A Mobad then replied, “What do you seek?You cannot see the Shah. State why you speak.”

The man replied, “If I may not draw near,I will not speak before his followers here.”

They brought that seeker to the Shah’s own sight,A learned man whose words were clear and bright.

He saw Bahram and said, “O king, to youI have some private words, both strange and true.”

Bahram Goor turned his horse’s head aside,And rode beyond the watching army’s tide.

The man said, “World-commanding Shah, attend;My words are true, and to your good they tend.

I am a countryman and landlord here;My soil, my homestead, and my crops are near.

I made new watercourses through my land,To bring more profit by my working hand.

When water gathered and the channel swelled,A sudden breach appeared where earth had held.

A wondrous clamor reached my startled ears;I cried aloud, overcome by sudden fears.

The clash of cymbals issued from the stream,A sound of treasure, not an empty dream.”

When Bahram heard, he went and saw the plain,All green with water, crops, and growing grain.

He summoned laborers with spades, to toilAnd seek the hidden riches in the soil.

He left his horse; his servants raised his tent,Amid green crops where winding waters went.

Night came; the warriors lit lamps everywhere,And kindled fires that brightened all the air.

When morning raised its banner from the deep,And burnished violet skies from waking sleep,

The workmen gathered there from every side,Like some great army in its laboring pride.

They dug that portion of the plain away,Until a yawning pit before them lay.

At last, when all were weary, they exhumedA mass like some great mountain, long entombed.

Of mortar and of burnt brick it was made,Like Paradise concealed below the shade.

They struck the structure’s top with picks untilIts doorway showed beneath that earthen hill.

The high Mobad went through the opened door,With one companion, seeking out the store.

They found one chamber, long and wide and high,A wonder hidden from the world and sky.

Two golden buffaloes bent down to drinkBefore a golden trough with jeweled brink.

The trough held green gems mingled with the redOf precious rubies heaped within its bed.

Those buffaloes seemed Taurus brought to earth,Hollow, and filled with fruit of priceless worth.

With pomegranates, apples, quince each side;The quinces held bright pearls like drops inside.

The buffaloes had ruby eyes that gleamed,Though age had touched their heads where gold still beamed.

Around them stood gold lions, proud and grand,With Gur-e-Khars arranged on every hand.

Some creatures had bright ruby eyes inlaid,And some with crystal eyes were deftly made.

There golden pheasants, peacocks too, were seen,With gem-bright breasts and eyes of jeweled sheen.

The minister returned to tell the kingWhat wealth that hidden treasure-house would bring.

He urged the Shah, “Arise and see this store;A wealth of treasure lies behind that door.

A chamber full of jewels lies below,Whose key high heaven kept from mortal show.”

The Shah replied, “A man of might and nameWould write upon his hoard from where it came.

Go see whose name is written on the hoard,And when these riches served their ancient lord.”

The high Mobad read on the beast the sealOf Shah Jamshid, whose name it would reveal.

“The buffalo bears Shah Jamshid’s own name;Its seal makes plain from whom these riches came.”

The Shah replied, “O Mobad, learned and wise,Whose knowledge reaches far beyond men’s eyes,

Why should I claim as mine this ancient store,The treasure Jamshid gathered long before?

If wealth is won without the sword and right,May kingship perish, stripped of all its might.

Bestow the whole upon the poor instead;May no misfortune fall upon our head.

My troops require no portion of this gold;Both time and earth lie open to the bold.

Yet first, as kings must, we shall count the hoard,Then sell the gems and give the poor reward.

Then gather widows from the fields and towns,And orphans marked by Fortune’s bitter frowns.

Bring impoverished men of noble name,Who have lost hope, estate, and former fame.

From ruined towns and thriving places, callThe needy; count them singly, one and all.

Give them the money, goods, the treasure whole,To bring reward to Jamshid’s parted soul.

I still am young, sound-limbed, with strength and breath;Why seek the wealth of monarchs claimed by death?

Let one tenth go to him who found this thing,And came to tell the secret to the king.

No man finds joy in days that lie ahead,Who strips the shroud and plunders royal dead.

My troops and I shall toil for what swords yield,And win renown through justice in the field.

From Rum and Chin I shall win fame and gain;Shabdiz and my sharp sword shall serve my reign.

I practice no deceit, nor turn to flight;My steed and sword shall serve me in the fight.”

He turned toward his own hard-gathered store,The wealth his sweat and toil had won before.

He gathered warriors of the realm around,And gave them one full year’s pay on that ground.

That spring he held a feast of splendid cheer,And dressed his jeweled hall with royal gear.

When red wine shone in crystal cups of light,And he was glad among his friends that night,

He said, “My chiefs, you know the kings of old,Whose mighty thrones the tales of ages hold.

From Hushang down to famous Nohzar’s name,Heir to the line of Fereydoon’s great fame,

And onward even to Kay Qobad’s renown,Who set upon his head the mighty crown,

See who remains of all those mighty men,Or who can call their justice back again.

The circle of their years has passed away;Their words and reputations live today.

One had nobility; another, none;They praise or blame them for what they have done.

We all shall pass from earth and living breath;The best path shuns all evil before death.

Why should I seek the treasure handed onBy kings who left the world and now are gone?

I will not bind my heart to passing things,Nor covet wealth, nor boast the crown of kings.

If days can pass in joy, why should the wiseFeed grief beneath the turning of the skies?

If courtier or countryman should sayMy rule oppresses him in any way,

May head and crown and treasure cease to be,If any subject suffers wrong from me.”

An elder rose, named Mahiyar, who boreThe weight of years: one hundred sixty-four.

He said, “O just lord, tales have reached our earsOf Fereydoon and Jamshid through the years,

Of kings whose fame rose high, and some less known,Yet none like you has to such greatness grown.

No Shah like you, the humble people’s shield,Your grace of crown and greatness stands revealed.

Were all the sea as vast as is your heart,Its waves would rise with gems in every part.

From your pure soul Soroush’s radiance flows,And dims the wit the wisest sage now shows.

Such treasure you have lavished far and wide,That high and low have seen no match beside.

When men recalled Jamshid’s majestic age,Buffalo treasure filled each ancient page.

None knew if dust concealed its hidden store,Or dragon’s breath had veiled it evermore.

But when you found it, you disdained the prize,And scorned this passing world before your eyes.

So many gems no living eye could knowLay in the boundless waters far below.

The jewels, the buffalo, the gold; all passedInto the poor’s own hands, from first to last.

May crown and girdle never leave your side;May joy, good fortune, triumph all abide.

Ink would blacken many a royal scroll,Yet fail to tell the measure of the whole.”

A week passed by; Bahram rode out to chase,With quiver, arrows, and a clouded face.

The sun beat down and heated all the plain;He left the hunt and homeward turned his rein.

He took the road toward his royal seat;Some distance passed beneath his charger’s feet.

He reached a merchant’s house along the road,And saw no one about that rich abode.

He said, “Can you provide us lodging here?We shall not trouble you, so have no fear.”

The merchant helped the rider to descend,And found a place where he could rest and mend.

The Shah gave dirhams, aching as he lay,And named the dish he wanted right away:

“Bring me old cheese and almonds, if you please;Roast them, and let my inward pain find ease.”

The merchant lacked the almonds for the dish,And thus could not fulfill the rider’s wish.

At nightfall he brought something else instead,A roasted fowl upon a tray with bread.

Bahram replied, “I asked for aged cheese,To soothe my belly and to give me ease.

I paid you dirhams, told you of my plight,Yet you have brushed aside my plea outright.”

The merchant said, “You lack all self-control,And have no wisdom to sustain your soul.

Since I have brought this roasted fowl to you,For shame, demand no other dish as due.”

Bahram said no more of the cheese he sought;He ate, regretting he had voiced the thought.

When sleeping-time arrived, he lay to rest,And said no more about his first request.

At dawn, when sunlight rose from ocean’s deep,And pitch-dark night withdrew from earth and sleep,

The wealthy merchant called his apprentice near,And spoke in anger for the youth to hear:

“That fowl was worth no dirham! Yet you paidFar more than it was worth in such a trade.

Had you bought cheaply, I would not last nightHave quarreled with this rider in such spite.

Had you bought cheese, one dang would meet the price;To keep him pleased, that little would suffice.”

The apprentice answered, “Let this quarrel cease;Charge me the fowl’s full cost, and hold your peace.

Be you and he my guests, and do not fight;Let no more blame be cast about last night.”

When Bahram rose from pleasant sleep at dawn,He sought his noble steed to journey on.

He meant to mount and ride back to his hall,And take his royal throne before them all.

The youth approached and said, “Be pleased to stay;Accept my hospitality today.”

Bahram returned, sat down again in place,And marveled at the turns of Fortune’s face.

The youth brought back two hundred eggs to share,Then told his master firmly, “Now prepare.

Roast almond kernels; set old cheese besideSoft bread, and let our guest be well supplied.

The Pahlevan requested this last day;Bring food and spread the board without delay.”

He told Bahram, “The fare you sought to findShall now be served with glad and open mind.

Now what you wished for shall be brought to you,With other dishes, hot and tender too.”

He hastened to the market in delight,A generous buyer, gracious and polite.

He bought lamb, almonds, sugar, fowl, and wine,Musk, saffron, and rosewater, sweet and fine.

He hurried home and spread the banquet fair,A sprightly youth, discreet and debonair.

When they had eaten, wine was brought, and firstHe served Bahram, to slake the royal thirst.

So they proceeded, cheerful and elate,And drank successive cups to celebrate.

The Shah addressed the household, bright and free:“Bahram will ask for me; drink on with glee.

Drink deep and do not move from where you sit,Until the wine has robbed you of your wit.”

He groomed his steed, and set the saddle straight,Then led him out to stand beside the gate.

He first addressed the merchant: “Do not strainSo hard, good merchant, in pursuit of gain.

For one small dang, you sold me yesterday,And cast me in a dragon’s jaws as prey.

You would have sewn your servant’s eyes up tightFor buying fowl at more than you thought right.”

He spoke and hurried to his royal seat,Where crown and throne made majesty complete.

When sunlight raised its crown in heaven bright,The realm’s protector sat enthroned in light.

He sent his chamberlain out to escortThe merchant and apprentice to the court.

One came rejoicing; one approached in gloom;Both stood before the Shah in judgment’s room.

Bahram beheld the youth and gave him a seatAmong the lords, with honor full and meet.

They brought a purse; his dark and anxious heartGrew bright with joy, and grief was forced to part.

Then to the merchant Bahram said, “Attend:You are his slave until your life shall end.

Twice every month you shall be bound to payA sum of sixty dirhams without delay.

With your own goods he shall receive the great,And make the hearts of noble men elate.”

Then to the Mobad said the Shah, “UnlessA king observes the world, he rules by guess.

How can he judge which men deserve his praise,Or tell the base from those of noble ways?”

Now, prudent listener, take this truth to heart;If you have wisdom, learn what tales impart.

Be never miserly, if you are wise,Lest shame should bring you low in others’ eyes.

Bahram abode a season with his lords,With wine and cups and minstrels’ sounding chords.

Spring came; the earth was Paradise remade,And tulips blazed in every sunlit glade.

All tracts grew full of game beneath the sky,While brooks like wine and milk went running by.

The deer and Gur-e-Khars paced through the dales,Or clustered where green sward adorned the vales.

The streams breathed musk; the wine in vats glowed red,Like pomegranate blossoms newly spread.

The nobles said, “O king of royal star,We long to hunt the famous Gur-e-Khar.”

He answered, “Choose a thousand from the ranks,The keenest horsemen from the royal flanks.

Bring cheetahs, hawks, and falcons to the field,And noble peregrines that game may yield.

We go to Tur to spend a month in chase,And take our pleasure through that scented place.”

The royal hunter rode; the fertile earthIn spring’s bright splendor found a glad rebirth.

His gallant chiefs swept plain and mountain wide,For Gur-e-Khar and sheep on every side.

For two long days they scoured the country round,While Bahram’s wine-cup cheered the hunting-ground.

The third day, Sol lit up his golden crown,And poured bright splendor on the hilltops down.

The earth grew gold, and stream and upland white,As though of ivory beneath the light.

The valiant Shah went hunting and then sawA dragon like a lion, dark and raw.

Long hair from its head trailed upon the ground;Its woman-like breasts swelled, immense and round.

Bahram Goor drew his bow with practiced art,And struck its breast with his first poplar dart.

He shot another straight against its head,And venom mingled with the blood it shed.

The king dismounted, drew his khanjar bright,And carved the dragon’s breast before their sight.

Within it lay a youth the beast had slain,Frozen in blood and venom’s livid stain.

He mourned the youth; his eyes grew dark and dim,For now the dragon’s venom worked on him.

Then dizzy, pained, and longing hard for sleep,He rode in search of water cool and deep.

He reached a settlement beside the plain,And came to one poor house in thirst and pain.

Her pitcher on her shoulder, near the placeA woman stood; from him she veiled her face.

“May I lodge here, or must I seek the road?”She said, “Brave horseman, share my poor abode.”

On hearing this, he rode his courser in;She called her husband from the house within.

“Bring straw,” she said, “and groom his noble steed;Then give it barley suited to its need.”

She swept the room and laid a mat for rest,Then set a pillow out before her guest.

With blessings on Bahram, she went away,And brought fresh water back without delay.

She scolded then her husband with a sigh:“That fool will never stir, however I try.

He sees a guest within this humble place,Yet will not move or show a decent face.

This is no woman’s work, yet I must bearA soldier’s burden through my household care.”

Bahram went forth and bathed his weary brow,Still spent from dragon-strife and hunt till now.

She brought the board with vinegar and bread,With salad, curds, and all the house could spread.

He ate a little, then lay down to rest,His face beneath a Chinese kerchief pressed.

The woman, waking, spoke then to her spouse:“O filthy knave, who slouches through the house,

You should have slaughtered one young lamb today,For this great Pahlevan who came our way.

He has the royal seed and kingly grace,And moonlike splendor shining from his face.

He seems Shah Bahram in his face and frame;How can you treat so great a guest with shame?”

Her mean spouse answered, “Why all this ado?No salted meat or firewood waits for you.

You bake no bread, nor spin wool through the night,As other women labor by lamplight.

You kill a lamb; he eats and rides away;What gain will come of all you spend today?

The winter cold and blast will come to you;That hardship will not spare you, coming due.”

So spoke her spouse; she would not heed his word,For she was wise, and generosity stirred.

At last a lamb was slaughtered for their guest,To meet the generous woman’s firm request.

She cooked a pot of broth above the heat,With half-dried wood to make the meal complete.

She brought a tray with eggs and watercress,A roasted leg, the best she could possess.

Bahram, when washed and done with what they gave,Still ailed, and found no sleep his strength to save.

At night she brought a gourd of wine; nearbyShe laid a dish of senjed, sweet and dry.

The Shah said, “Woman, measured in your word,Tell me an ancient tale that you have heard.

While you recite, I drink to ease my pain,And drive my cares away from heart and brain.

I give you freedom now to speak of kings,Of Shah Bahram, the praise or blame he brings.”

The woman answered, “Yes, all things dependUpon him, from their outset to their end.”

Bahram replied, “So great you hold his fame,Yet none has found his justice worth the name.”

That spirited dame said, “Honest man, give ear;This district’s homes and folk are countless here.

Here many dwellings stand; and through the townRide many noble horsemen of renown.

Ministers, officers go passing by,And poor folk fear each careless lordly eye.

If one should call a man a thief by name,The man accused then burns in trouble’s flame.

A horseman, just to gather coins in hand,Could make a poor man wretched in the land.

Or he might smirch some honest woman’s fame,And drive her toward ruin, folly, shame.

This yields the royal treasury no worth;It only presses down the poor of earth.

This is our trouble under Bahram’s reign,And this has filled our lives with loss and pain.”

The king grew thoughtful, hearing her account,How blame against his royal name could mount.

He thought, “No one gives justice proper praise;I shall play tyrant for a span of days.

Thus love and justice may be manifest,When men have seen how tyranny brings unrest.”

He slept, tormented by such thoughts that night,His heart had turned from justice and the right.

When Sol tore through its musk-scented veil,And showed its face above the eastern vale,

The woman said, “Bring fire and pot; then pourIn water, with the gleanings of our floor.

Keep them from sunlight; watch the pot’s slow boil,While I go milk the cow, my morning toil.”

She brought the cow in from the pasture wide,And set fresh fodder down and stood beside.

She tried the udder, crying, “In God’s name,Who has no peer, no mate, no equal claim!”

She found the udder milkless, dry, and bare;Her young heart aged beneath that sudden care.

She told her husband, “Good man, hear my fear:The monarch’s heart has changed; the signs are clear.

The monarch’s heart is now a tyrant’s; seeWhat secret change has touched the world and me.”

He asked, “What makes you weep and raise this cry?”She said, “These signs before me cannot lie.

When Shahs turn unjust beneath the sky,The moon in heaven dims its silver eye.

Milk dries, and musk no longer scents the air;Adultery and usury lie bare.

The tender heart grows flint, and wolves devourThe men who cross the plain in evil hour.

The sage will flee the fool, and eggs lie deadBeneath the hens from which they should be bred.

So when the Shah grows tyrannous in heart,All earth and heaven from their order part.

This cow’s good pasture has not grown less green,Her watering-place remains as fresh and clean.

Yet now her udder fails, her lowing pained;The royal heart by injustice has been stained.”

On hearing this, the Shah repented then,And prayed to God, the righteous Judge of men:

“O You supreme, Almighty over fate,Whose judgment opens Fortune’s every gate,

If ever my heart turns away from right,Let kingly throne no longer bless my sight.”

That blessed dame, whose faith was firm and good,Once more tried milking her cow as she should.

In God’s own name she touched the teat, and prayed:“Let flow the milk that in the udder stayed.”

The milk flowed forth; the good wife cried in joy,“O God, whose works no mortal can destroy,

You have recalled the monarch from his wrong,And made his love of justice firm and strong.”

She turned then to her husband where he stood:“The king’s lost justice has come back for good.

Rejoice and laugh; this is the Maker’s boonTo us beneath the sun and fading moon.”

When milk porridge was cooked and chores were done,The good dame filled the tray at rise of sun.

Her husband hurried with the laden tray,And set it where the guest reclining lay.

Upon the tray milk porridge had been laid;How good if zirba had instead been made!

The Shah ate somewhat, then spoke to the dame:“Take out this whip and hang it in my name.

Go, choose a branch beside the public road,Where passing winds will spare the royal goad.

Then keep your eye upon the whip and way,And mark what passing troops will do or say.”

The goodman hung it where the road ran free;Soon troops came riding past that wayside tree.

All those who saw it blessed Bahram’s renown,And offered praise to him who wore the crown.

Before the long whip, all dismounted then,And bowed before the Shah, both chiefs and men.

Both armies cried, “No seat except a throneCould fit that face or claim it as its own.”

Then filled with shame, they hastened to his side,With no excuse by which their fault to hide,

And cried, “O Shah, O ruler wise and great,Whose justice guards the crown and royal state!”

The gardener and his wife, in wonder dazed,Before his majesty their voices raised:

“Forgive our simple meal and humble cheer;We did not know the king of kings was here!

We never guessed the Shah, so high and pure,Would enter as a guest among the poor.”

“Good man, this frontier march is yours,” he said;“This land and village shall be yours instead.

Keep open house to all who seek your gate;Leave garden work and live in honored state.”

He laughed and mounted, bound for court and throne,And soon his jeweled halls before him shone.

The third day, with his troops, the Shah took horseAnd rode to hunt, along his former course.

Three hundred nobles came from Iran’s court,To join the chase and share the royal sport.

Each brought full thirty servants in his train,From Turkish lands, from Rum, Iran’s domain.

Three hundred servants from the royal hallRode out with hunting gear at Bahram’s call.

Ten camels bore fine housings of brocade,With silver stirrups richly overlaid.

Their panniers shone with gold upon the plain,As all the hunting splendor formed his train.

Ten camels bore the Shah’s own seat of state,Brocade adorned the throne of one so great.

Before them seven elephants progressed,The turquoise throne upon their backs at rest.

Its feet were gold and crystal, bright and pure,The throne itself of mighty Bahram Goor.

Each swordsman’s thirty handsome pages rodeWith golden belts; their steeds’ gold trappings glowed.

A hundred camels carried minstrels crowned,Whose jeweled coronets flashed all around.

The falconers had eight score hawks in line,Two hundred other falcons, proud and fine.

Among them flew one bird of sable hue,More prized by Bahram than the rest he knew.

Its talons black, its beak a yellow flame,Like gold on lapis when the morning came.

They called that bird Toghri; its eyes were red,Like goblets full of blood within its head.

The Khan of Chin had sent that bird of grace,With throne and crown, where garnets found their place.

A golden torque with emeralds he sent,And forty bracelets for the Shah’s content.

And six and thirty earrings, finely wrought,Were numbered with the treasures that he brought.

Three hundred camel-loads from Chin came too,Three hundred rubies, fit for royal view.

Behind the falconers, cheetahs came in pride,Eight score in golden chains on every side.

They wore bright jeweled torques of royal gold,As Bahram crossed the plain in splendor bold.

Thus came the king of kings in bright array,His crown above great Jupiter that day.

The sportsmen made their way toward the sea,Where every seventh year the Shah would be.

When they drew near, fowl swarmed by bank and shoal;The tabors thundered with a mighty roll.

The falcon flew, impatient for the prey,And chased a crane that crossed its soaring way.

The crane was helpless as the raptor rolled;It struck just like a leopard, fierce and bold.

It seized its quarry, climbed the clouds anew,Then vanished like an arrow from their view.

The falconer pursued it with great care;The Shah grew vexed to lose that bird so rare.

He followed where its golden bells rang clear,Until a pleasure-ground at last drew near.

A mansion in the garden’s corner rose;The Shah rode in, his search now near its close.

The army stayed to hunt upon the plain;A few rode with the monarch from his train.

On entering, Bahram saw a garden wide,A steep slope rising by the garden’s side.

Brocade was spread across the garden ground,And slaves and wealth were gathered all around.

Amid the garden lay a pool of blue;Beside it sat an aged lord in view.

Three girls like ivory beside him shone,Each wearing turquoise crowns as bright as stone.

Their cheeks were spring, their statures tall and fair,Their brows were bows; like kamand fell their hair.

Each held a crystal goblet, bright and clear;Bahram looked upon the maidens gathered near.

His eyes were dazzled by that radiant sight,Though grief for Toghri dimmed his heart’s delight.

The wealthy noble saw him, pale with dread,Like fenugreek when all its green has fled.

A wise old man was he, Barzin by name,Whose heart grew troubled when the monarch came.

As swift as wind he left the pool to greetThe Shah, and kissed the ground before his feet.

He said, “O monarch of the sun-bright brow,May heaven bend to serve your every vow.

I dare not ask the Shah to linger here,With two hundred horsemen in his train drawn near.

Yet if the Shah takes pleasure in my land,Barzin’s own glory rises at your hand.”

The world’s king said, “Today my Toghri fled,And vexing care about that bird has spread.

My heart grew troubled when it flew away;I chased its ringing bells without delay.”

Barzin replied, “I saw a sable bird,With golden bells, whose ringing I had heard.

Its body pitch-dark, beak and talons brightAs gold, it perched upon a walnut’s height.

Through your good fortune, it has come to hand.”The Shah then gave a servant his command.

“Go look,” he said. Like wind, the servant sped,Then cried, “Good fortune crowns the royal head.

The Toghri perches on a walnut bough;The keeper climbs to bring him downward now!”

The bird thus found, the old man praised and cried:“O king not matched by all the world beside;

May this arrival bring good fortune here,And crowned men serve you through each passing year.

Call for a wine-cup in this present hour,Then ask what pleasures lie within my power.”

The king of kings dismounted at the pool,And old Barzin grew glad beneath his rule.

Then came the chief vizier, and at his heelsThe keepers of the treasure and its seals.

Barzin brought forth red wine, a cup in hand,And drank first to the ruler of the land.

Then he brought forth a crystal cup of wine;The Shah received it, joyful and benign.

He drank beyond the measure marked around,While glad Barzin set wine-jars on the ground.

Now drunk, he told his daughters, “Hear me, all:No common chief has entered through our wall.

Shah Bahram has adorned this garden bright;Now bring your harps and songs for his delight.”

All three drew near the Shah with crowns ablaze,Their jeweled brows a marvel to the gaze.

One danced, one played upon the harp with art,The third sang sweetly to delight his heart.

While they made music, filling him with cheer,The king drained every cup they offered near.

He turned to old Barzin: “Who are these three,That feast beside you, fair as moons to see?”

Barzin replied, “O Shah, may no age beWithout your light, which blesses land and sea.

These are my daughters and my heart’s delight,Three moons that fill this garden with their light.

One is a singer; one the harp can sound;The third, a dancer, treads the measured round.

I lack no riches, Shah; enough is mine:Domains, this garden, stores of grain and vine.

My daughters bloom like gardens in the spring;O moon-faced singer, praise the world’s great king.”

The singer then took heart to sing and play,And poured her song before the Shah that day:

“O moon-faced king, you seem the moon on high;Your joyful throne is worthy of the sky.

The royal throne alone should be your seat,You whose bright face makes kingly grace complete.

Your cypress stature is the crown’s delight;The golden throne grows lustrous in your sight.

Blessed are those who see your face at day’sFirst light, and breathe the musk your hair conveys.

Your waist is tiger-slim, your arms have might,Your crown’s high farr outsoars the clouds in flight.

Your cheek is like pomegranate bloom in flower;Hearts laugh for love of you in every hour.

Your heart is like the sea, both broad and deep;Its bounty knows no bounds that men can keep.

Your hand is like a cloud with gifts outspread;The leopard and the lion fall down dead.

You split a hair in two with shaft and bow;Your justice makes the lion melt and flow.

When hostile armies see your kamand cast,Their hearts and brains are rent and overcast.

However mighty is their battle line,Your arm breaks all their strength by royal sign.”

Bahram Goor heard the song and drained his cup,Then turned to old Barzin with mind made up.

He said, “O noble, schooled in heat and cold,Who knows the world from youth to age grown old,

You will not find a better son-in-lawThan me, a hero-king beneath God’s law.

Bestow all three upon me as my brides;I will exalt your crown where Saturn rides.”

Barzin replied, “O king, may cup and wineForever in your royal presence shine.

Who in the world would dare so much to ask,Or find the heart to set himself that task?

If you accept me as your slave today,I will attend your throne in every way.

Then I will offer service to your crown,Your throne, your farr, your fortune, and renown.

Moreover, my three daughters are your maids,Your handmaids where the royal curtain shades.

The Shah has looked on them and finds them meet;Their moonlike beauty makes his court complete.

As teaks in stature, ivory in hue,They fit the crown and throne, both fair and true.

Now, if the monarch wishes to be told,I will declare what wealth my vaults now hold.

Clothes, carpets, stuffs, and draperies remain,Enough to load a long and laden train.

Two hundred camel-loads, or more, I own,With crowns and bracelets, torques, and royal throne.

All necklaces and ornaments I saveFor these my daughters and the joy they crave.”

Bahram replied, “Let all that wealth remain;Come, drink your wine, and free your heart of pain.”

The elder said, “These daughters, moon-faced, bright,I give by ancient rites, as is your right.

By Kioumars and Hushang’s holy way,They are but dust beneath your feet today.

All three now live to carry out your will,And serve your throne with loyal purpose still.”

The eldest daughter’s name was Mah Afrid;The second, Faranak, slim as a reed.

The youngest maid was lovely Shanbalid;To wed all three the joyful Shah agreed.

He bade his escort form the bridal show,With four gold litters gleaming in a row.

When all three idols had been set inside,Then sixty Roman servants came beside.

They circled round the maidens on their way,And chanted blessings as they moved away.

As they departed toward the royal dome,The glorious Shah drank where the wine cups foam.

A servant hung his whip above the gate,A sign that showed his followers where to wait.

For none could know where Shah and courtiers stayed,Save by the whip’s long thong and handle laid.

Whoever saw that sign would hasten down,And bow before the token of the crown.

Bahram grew drunk as cup on cup was poured;A royal litter bore away its lord.

Back in his golden women’s house, he breathedThe amber scent with which its rooms were wreathed.

After returning, he remained one week,In feast and gifts and all the joys men seek.

The eighth day out he rode with Rozbeh’s band,A thousand mighty horsemen at his command.

He saw the plain with Gur-e-Khar alive,And took his bow, prepared his shaft to drive.

To God, who grants all victory, he prayed,Then watched the springtime herds across the glade.

Spring stirred the Gur-e-Khar to pair and vie;From every quarter herds came crowding by.

They met head-on and tore each other’s skin;The earth grew red beneath their savage din.

Bahram stood watching two fierce bucks contend,Until the stronger brought the fight to an end.

When that bold victor mounted on the doe,Bahram laughed to watch the pair below.

He held his war-bow ready for attack,And sent a shaft into the male’s broad back.

The driving shaft transfixed the pair outright,And buried head and feathers in its flight.

His escort marveled; all who saw it cried,And blessed the Shah, their praises multiplied:

“May every evil eye be far from you;May all your days be filled with pleasure too.

In valor you are new beneath the sun;Such kingly might and courage meet in one.

Both Shah and champion, sovereign in your might,You stand before us in your royal right.”

The Shah urged Shabdiz onward through the plain,And came upon a forest’s green domain.

Before the wood two savage lions stood;He strung his bow and faced them where he could.

His arrow tore the lion’s breast and foundIts way, both point and feathers, to the ground.

Then Bahram turned his bow, devoid of fear,And shot the lioness, his skill made clear.

He pinned her breast and loins with one clean blow,Then laughed and spoke in scorn above the foe:

“That shaft lacked feathers, and its point was worn;Yet through the lioness its path was borne.”

His escort praised him: “Famous king of earth,No throne has seen a Shah of equal worth.

With featherless shafts you lions overthrow;The roots of flinty mountains too would go.”

The monarch rode in splendor through the land,And saw great flocks across a meadow stand.

He saw the shepherds fleeing in their fright,Afraid of beasts that haunted that green site.

The chief herdsman, long plagued by beasts and fear,Perceived Bahram as he was drawing near.

The Shah said, “Who has driven sheep to grazeIn such unlikely woods and dangerous ways?”

The herdsman answered, “Sir, none walks this trackSave me, who guards these flocks from beasts’ attack.

They are a jeweler’s sheep, whose wealth is known;I drove them yesterday from slopes of stone.

The owner fears the beasts despite his hoard;He has gem-loads and silver richly stored.

He owns gold, trinkets, wealth of every kind,And peace because the Shah is just in mind.

He has one daughter, skillful on the harp,With raven curls and wit both keen and sharp.

From her own hand alone he takes his wine;No richer elder in this land can shine.

How could he keep such hoards, and rest secure,But that Bahram’s just reign the land keeps pure?

The king of kings is not concerned for gold;His Mobadan are not unjust or cold.

But tell me who has slain these beasts today;May God uphold the hand that cleared the way.”

Bahram replied, “A hunter brought them low,A man whose arrows never miss their foe.

He slew those gallant beasts and rode away,With seven brave riders in his bright array.

Where is the jeweler’s mansion? Show the road,And hide from us no path to his abode.”

The chief herdsman said, “Proceed; beyond this groundA thriving village, newly built, is found.

Its sounds reach to the city, borne alongNear Bahram’s palace in a tide of song.

But when the sky puts on its dark attire,He comes to feast, with music to inspire.

Remain, and you will hear the lyre’s sound,And revelry will fill the mansion round.”

Bahram then called for garments fit to wear,For royal raiment and his charger fair.

He parted from his minister and train,And eager rode alone across the plain.

Rozbeh said to the chiefs, “Mark where he rides:He seeks the village where his purpose hides.

He means to knock and lift the jeweler’s latch,And ask the daughter’s hand, a royal match.

He doubtless crowns her with a crown of gold,And takes her where his women are enrolled.

He will send Barzin’s other three away,And let this newest moon command the day.

He never has enough of love’s delight;His partner flees from him in deepest night.

He has above a hundred ladies’ bowers,And spends among them all his royal hours.

A king of kings should not be ruled by this;His pleasure overwhelms his sober bliss.

A eunuch counted in the palace hallsOne hundred thirty damsels behind walls.

Each wore a jeweled crown; each, richly dressed,Had maids to serve her at her least behest.

The Shah demands his tribute far and wide;One month consumes the tribute Rum supplied.

Alas for shoulders, breast, and height like his,A face that lights the court where glory is.

None will behold his like in strength or frame,Or in the splendor gathered round his name.

He pins two Gur-e-Khars with one clean throw,Yet lust will drain the strength such feats bestow.

Too much with women mars the strongest man;He soon will pale and weaken in his span.

His eyes grow dim, his cheeks lose all their red;His lips turn lapis-blue, his strength has fled.

The scent of women whitens youthful hair;With whitened hair, few hopes on earth are fair.

The young man’s upright back grows bent and bowed;Through lust, afflictions gather in a crowd.

Once in a month should satisfy desire;More drains the blood and dims the body’s fire.

A prudent youth should husband strength and seed,For children’s sake and future household need.

In such excess lie weariness and loss,And feebleness that turns life’s gold to dross.”

They turned back to the palace, speaking still;One said, “The sun has passed beyond the hill.”

Bahram, with one slave to mind his steed,Rode through the dark toward his hidden need.

When near the house, he caught the harp-string’s tune,And spurred his steed beneath the cooling moon.

Toward the merchant’s house he rode at speed,And knocked, invoking God in word and deed.

A kindly handmaid asked, “Who knocks so late?Why pound so hard upon my master’s gate?”

Bahram replied, “At dawn the Shah’s arrayRode to the hunting-grounds to spend the day.

My horse went lame; I fell behind the line,And now no escort sees this trail of mine.

Here, in this thoroughfare, thieves lie in wait,To seize my steed and harness at the gate.

Therefore I need your shelter and your aid,Before this night has left me robbed and frayed.”

The handmaid told her lord, “A man asks grace;He fears for horse and harness at our place.

He says his horse and golden harness hereWill tempt a thief; he seeks relief from fear.”

Mahiyar answered, “Open, let him stay;Have I not seen a guest before today?”

The maid made haste to open wide the door:“Come in, my son, and be afraid no more.”

The Shah stepped in and saw on every sideAttendants standing ready, far and wide.

He said within himself, “O God alone,You guide me to the good that You have shown.

May I be just in conduct evermore,And keep covetousness from my door.

Let arrogance not be my ruling creed;Let justice govern every act and deed.

Let all my subjects’ hearts rejoice and sing,And live in dignity beneath their king.

If knowledge and my justice grow in worth,My memory will shine beyond the earth.

May all my subjects, like this jeweler, hearThe harp and revelry without a fear.”

On entering that lofty hall he sawThe jeweler’s daughter and was held in awe.

The noble, seeing him, rose up and bowed,And hailed the guest with welcome warm and proud.

“Good evening, noble Pahlevan,” he said;“May all your foemen’s hearts be filled with dread.”

The host spread out a mat of woven pile,And set a cushion, greeting him the while.

He gazed with joy upon his guest’s bright face,Then ordered food brought forth with fitting grace.

A sumptuous board was spread with hot and cold,With dishes worthy of the great of old.

One faithful servant then secured the steed,And gave it lodging, grooming, rest, and feed.

Elsewhere they lodged Bahram’s attendant well,And showed him courtesies no words could tell.

They set a lower seat for Mahiyar,Who sat beside his guest, the hidden star.

He then addressed his guest, sincere and warm,And spoke with honest heart, in kindly form:

“Brave Pahlevan, you are my guest tonight;My life and soul are yours by friendship’s right.

When we have eaten, we must drink, then sleep;Dark night is deep, and royal wines we keep.

When you have drunk your measure, take your rest;At dawn return to service, honored guest.”

Bahram replied, “Who finds, in darkest night,A host whose welcome shines with such delight?

We must be ever grateful to our God;The thankless always walk beneath His rod.”

The handmaid, awed to see the guest’s bright mien,Brought bowl and ewer and a napkin clean.

Their hands were washed; then came the wine-cup’s turn,And mirth and peace began in hearts to burn.

The handmaid brought a flagon and strong wine,With cups and flowers of fenugreek in line.

The noble first reached out, took up the cup,Then drank, and washed it clean, and raised it up.

With musk and rosewater he cleansed the bowl,And gave Bahram the cup that cheered the soul.

He said, “What is my boon-companion’s name?Let friendship bind us in a loyal claim.

I take Bahram the Shah as surety here,That we shall share the cup in loyal cheer.”

The king laughed heartily and then replied,“Gushasp is what men call me far and wide.

I came here, drawn by harp-song through the night,Not merely seeking lodging till the light.”

His host replied, “This daughter of my soulUplifts my head and makes my gladness whole.

She is my cupbearer, and she sings too;She scatters care when grief comes into view.”

The maiden’s name was Arezu, his light;She served his wine and was his heart’s delight.

He told that cypress, “Bring your harp in here;Before Gushasp, our Pahlevan, appear.”

The harpist came before the monarch’s face,Like Yemen’s star Suhayl in stately grace.

She said, “O mighty Pahlevan, whose frameBefits a man who bears a kingly name,

Know that this feasting house belongs to you;My father is host and treasurer too.

May all your darkest nights be blessed instead;Above the rain-cloud may you raise your head.”

He said to her, “Sit down, take up the harp;Let song begin at once, both sweet and sharp.

Tonight old Mahiyar shall be a youth,And pledge his soul to fellowship and truth.”

The harpist clasped her harp and, with rare skill,Played the Magians’ chant, and all grew still.

As silken chords rang out through all the room,An odor came as jasmine comes in bloom.

She sang to Mahiyar, her noble sire,And plaintive music trembled from the wire:

“You stand, a cypress by the flowing stream;Your locks, once musk-dark, now like camphor gleam.

Your tongue is warm, your heart has love of peace;May hardship never from your foeman cease.

Let wisdom be the nourishment you prize;Your nature, like Fereydoon’s, great and wise.

I wait upon you as a handmaid true;Called Arezu, I joy in guests like you.

Our guest has made me joyful as a kingWhose troops, triumphant, news of conquest bring.”

Her first song done, she turned her eyes his way,And sang to plaintive chords a second lay:

“Sincere and brave, high-starred, whose peer is none,Who has not seen Bahram should see the sun

Of your bright face, and find his image here:The Pahlevan all cherish and revere.

At court, you are the only match for him,A cypress tall, your waist reed-like and slim.

You have a pheasant’s carriage, lion’s heart,And elephantine strength in every part.

Full two farsangs in war you fling your spear;Your cheeks like pomegranate blooms appear.

Who washed those blossoms red in wine’s bright glow?Your arms like camel thighs in power show.

You trample Mount Bistoon beneath your feet;Your strength can cast that mountain from its seat.

I see no man to rival you in strife;May Arezu serve you faithfully through life.”

Her skill in harp and song, her charm and ease,Her stature, beauty, art, and power to please,

So worked on Bahram that one might have saidHis joys had fled, and longing ruled instead.

When Mahiyar grew drunk before his guest,Bahram addressed his friend with frank request:

“Give me your daughter, let her be my own,And praise shall crown you when the deed is known.”

Mahiyar asked her, “From this warrior here,What marriage gift would please you, daughter dear?

See if he pleases you, and if it is wellFor you to go with him where fortunes dwell.”

Arezu replied, “Good father, hear me say:If you would give me to a man today,

Gushasp alone is fit to be my mate;Why turn to Bahram for a different fate?”

Her words displeased her father, and he saidTo Bahram, “Warrior whom all foemen dread,

Regard her form and judge if she will suit:Her skill, discretion, knowledge, branch and root.

See whether she is pleasing to your heart;True sight is better than conjecture’s art.

She is accomplished and no beggar maid;I speak the truth; no false account is made.

If all my gems were counted and weighed out,They would surpass the Shah’s own bags, no doubt.

Be not too swift; tonight take rest instead,And, if you must, more wine to warm your head.

Great men make no agreements over wine,Especially for brides of noble line.

Wait till the sun has climbed the eastern sky,And noble men awake with watchful eye.

We then will call far-seeing elders near,Detached and learned, to judge the compact clear.

Such night-time business is no proper way;Fereydoon’s custom calls for light of day.

It is ill-omened, wedding over wine,Or sealing contracts before the sun can shine.”

Bahram replied, “This omen-talk is wrong;Do not draw omens when the heart is strong.

This harpist pleased me deeply in the night;So deem the matter fortunate and right.”

The father said, “Arezu, say what is true:Do looks and manners both approve him too?”

She said, “I do approve him, heart and mind;Since first I saw him, I have been inclined.

Complete the work; trust God to be our guide;No heavenly feud hangs where we reside.”

Her father answered, “You are now his wife;Know you are joined beneath the law for life.”

He gave her then to Bahram as his bride;By dawn the marriage bond was sealed and tied.

The Shah’s attendant hung the royal whipAbove the gate, with jeweled thong and grip.

Arezu went to her chamber, while aroundThe sleeping village lay without a sound.

Mahiyar went to plan with eager zealFor Pahlevan Gushasp’s next morning meal.

He told a servant, “Bolt the doors, then takeA fattened lamb and dress it for his sake.

No board should lack a lamb when guests arrive;Choose one well-fed, the fattest still alive.

Wait on Gushasp; when he wakes, draw near,And bring him ice with foaming, cooling beer.

Bring camphor and rosewater in a bowl,To scent his chamber and delight his soul.

I am as drunk as I was late last night;This old gem-seller cannot bear wine’s might.”

He spoke, drew up his cloak around his head,And sought the rest that wine bestows in bed.

When sunlight raised its crown above the skies,And earth like shining ivory met all eyes,

With shields and double-headed spears in hand,The troops came seeking Bahram through the land.

The escort gathered round the jeweler’s gate,As though it were the Shah’s own court of state.

All who recognized the whip drew near,And bowed before it with submissive fear.

The porter saw the vast assembled crowd,The swordsmen and the spearmen calling loud.

He ran and roused his sleeping lord from rest,And sobered him with news that struck his breast.

He said, “Rise up; shake off your drunken sleep.Take heed: this is no hour for slumber deep.

The world’s king came to this poor house to stay;Here you caroused and drank the night away.”

The jeweler’s heart beat wildly at the word;He cried, “What say you? What have you heard?

How have you traced the footsteps of the king?”Then truth descended with a sudden sting.

He sprang up from the bedclothes with a shout,And scolded hard the porter in his doubt.

“These are not words of wisdom or of age;What dream has made you speak in such a rage?”

The slave replied, “Experienced man, attend:Who made you monarch of Iran, my friend?

So vast a crowd has gathered at your gateThat no man could pass through, however great.

Each man who comes salutes our screen; they allBow as though in the king of kings’ own hall.

At dawn, before the sun began to shine,The guest’s attendant hung a jeweled sign.

A whip of gold and gems above our gate;Now hill and dale have sent their men to wait.

Around that jeweled whip the people press;Rise now, before the crowd brings more distress.

Do not let wine confuse your mind or face;The king himself is hidden in this place.”

The shrewd old man was troubled in his breast:“Why did I drink before so great a guest?

Why did I let my daughter serve the wine,When such a guest had come beneath this sign?”

To Arezu’s own chamber then he drew,And said, “My gracious Moon, I speak to you.

It was Bahram, the king of kings, last night,Who came disguised and entered out of sight.

Returning from the chase, he turned his rein,And entered here across the darkened plain.

Rise now and don brocade of Roman thread;Set last night’s crown upon your moonlike head.

Make him an offering worthy of his state:Three royal rubies of surpassing weight.

When you behold his sunlike face, stand low,And let your folded arms your reverence show.

Keep your eyes lowered; do not stare his way;Hold him as dear as life and breath each day.

Answer meekly when he questions you;Let every word be modest, clear, and true.

I shall not come unless the Shah commands,And gives me place among his courtly bands.

I sat beside him as though I were his peer;I wish that I had disappeared from here.

In drunkenness I matched myself with him;Wine makes the minds of every man grow dim.”

Just then a slave came hurrying to say,“The Shah, that ardent spirit, wakes today.”

When Bahram woke, refreshed from restful sleep,He went to bathe where garden waters sweep.

He prayed before the sun, with trust in God,Then crossed the fragrant garden’s morning sod.

Returning to the hall in royal state,He bade a servant bring the wine, not wait.

He heard his retinue had come that day,And bade them turn and take the road away.

He called Arezu, whom his heart desired;She came with wine and gifts as he required.

A handmaid bore her crown and earrings bright;Arezu bowed and kissed the ground outright.

The Shah smiled: “Where were you? You went away,And left me drunk, alone with wine to stay.

Your harp and song are all I ask of you;Let women’s gifts go elsewhere, as they do.

Come sing to me of chase and royal fight,Of spearhead-blows and war in armored light.”

He said, “Where is the jeweler? We were oneIn wine together till last night was done.”

His daughter called her father when she heard,Amazed the Shah recalled each drunken word.

Mahiyar came with arms across his breast,Before the sunlike king, a humble guest.

He cried, “O Shah, O chief, O wise and great,May all the world turn toward your crown and state.

The man who drinks the cup of folly needsTo guard his tongue and curb his reckless deeds.

I erred through ignorance, not evil will;Distressed, I fear you think my mind is ill.

Grant pardon, make my face and fortune bright;I stand, a foolish slave, before your sight.”

Bahram replied, “The wise give no beliefTo drunken words, nor hold them cause for grief.

If wine brings sorrow, let that drinker fleeIts very scent and color, and be free.

I saw no ill behavior in you here;Now listen to Arezu’s music clear.

Let song excuse you; raise the cup today,And leave tomorrow’s troubles far away.”

Mahiyar kissed the ground and spread the board,And fetched the nobles gathered near his lord.

Arezu saw the strangers and withdrew,Her brow drawn tight among the guests so new.

She stayed until the sky was clothed in night,And stars around the moon came into sight.

Called back, Arezu took a golden seat,And sang of chase and war in accents sweet.

“O fearless king, the lion, put to shame,Will leave the woods on hearing your great name.

Shah, victor, breaker of the battle-line,Tulip on jasmine makes your features shine.

No earthly ruler matches you in height;Your face outshines the moon in heaven’s light.

When armies see your helmet in the fight,Their hearts and minds are torn apart by fright.

Their senses fail them, and they cannot knowThe heights above them from the depths below.”

When they had eaten, wine had made them glad,And cup on cup renewed the joy they had.

Then Rozbeh came with pomp to greet his lord;They lodged him by the gate, with bed and board.

They brought a litter, forty eunuchs too,All moon-faced, for the bride’s departure due.

Their Roman faces shone like rich brocade,And all the countryside seemed newly made.

A jeweled crown adorned the maiden’s head;Toward Bahram Goor’s bower Arezu then sped.

With Rozbeh, Bahram left his men that day,And rode toward his wives in glad array.

He passed the night, then rode at dawn to chase;His troops spread out through every road and place.

For one full month they camped upon the plain,With tents and royal pavilions in their train.

They swept the field for game on every side;At night, no man from wine or music shied.

There all was game and flesh, with harp and lyre,And round the plain they kindled many a fire.

They burned both green and dry wood in the blaze,While dealers came from town through dusty ways.

They tarried there to trade with Bahram’s men;The plain grew bright with buyers once again.

A quarter dinar bought the hunters’ gain:Ten gazelles and one Gur-e-Khar from the plain.

Whoever needed meat for child or guestTook home both game and waterfowl, the best.

On loaded asses game was borne away;When one month passed, the Shah could brook no stay.

He yearned for wives and court, and turned his horse,And led his people on the homeward course.

So thick the dust, no traveler saw the road;Through these driving clouds the horsemen all rode.

They sped until the cheeks of day grew blue,Like lapis lazuli in evening’s hue.

The Shah observed a town before his sight,With houses, roads, bazaars, and fading light.

He bade the troops and baggage take the road,And stayed alone to seek a night’s abode.

He asked, “Where is the chief man of this place?”Then made toward him with a searching face.

He saw a shattered entrance, low and wide;Its owner came and bowed there at his side.

The Shah inquired, “Whose ruin is this here?Why stands it in such plight for all to peer?”

The master said, “It is mine; evil luckHas been my guide; its mire has held me stuck.

I have no cattle, clothing, food, or store;No strength, no means to earn a morsel more.

You saw me first; now see my house’s state,More fit for curse than blessing at its gate.”

The Shah dismounted, looked about the place;His limbs grew weak to see its sorry case.

The house was vaulted, large, yet everywhereSheep-droppings fouled the floor and tainted air.

He said, “Bring me a seat where I may stayAnd rest, kind host, from riding all this way.”

The other said, “Why mock your host with jest?Had I fine drapes, they would content my guest.

But I have neither food nor carpet spread,No clothing fit to lay beneath your head.

Pray lodge elsewhere; in poverty I dwell;This place serves neither guest nor master well.”

The Shah said, “Fetch a cushion, I request,That I may sit awhile and take my rest.”

He answered, “I have nothing here at all;Would you have bird’s milk brought at once on call?”

Bahram replied, “Bring warm milk, if you can,And soft bread too, O hospitable man.”

The other said, “Pretend that you have fed,Then bid farewell and leave this place instead.

Had I one loaf, I would not lie half-dead;Yet life itself is better far than bread.”

Bahram asked, “If you have no sheep, explainHow droppings fill this vaulted house and plain.”

“It is late,” he said, “your questions but confuse;My wearied mind can neither think nor choose.

Seek out a house where matting can be spread;Its owner will be glad to give you bed.

Why stay with one whom Fortune has passed by,Who sleeps on leaves beneath the darkened sky?

You have a golden sword and stirrups bright;You should not lodge where thieves may prowl at night.

For thieves and lions haunt these hulks of stone;A lord like you should not lodge here alone.”

The Shah replied, “If thieves should steal my blade,No claim against you for it will be made.

Give lodging for tonight; this is my plea.”The owner said, “Expect no aid from me.

No stranger finds a bed beneath my roof.”The Shah replied, “Why treat me with reproof?

Still, you will give me water, I suppose,O noble man, before the night shall close.”

The householder replied, “Did you not spyThe pool, two arrow-flights and more nearby?

Drink there and take whatever water you will;Why seek it from this poor man’s dwelling still?

Have you not seen how age has ended toil,And weakness bends me toward my native soil?”

Bahram replied, “If you possess no might,Do not provoke a soldier to a fight.

Enough of this; set all your tricks aside.Speak plainly now: what name is yours?” he cried.

He answered, “Farshidvard; no land I own,No clothes, no food, no sleep have I yet known.”

Bahram replied, “Why not exert your will,And seek, with such a name, to eat your fill?”

The master said, “The Giver may end my woe;He knows how long my ruined life should go.

If you would quit my house, I would rejoice,And offer thanks to God with lifted voice.

Why did you come into this empty place?May you know neither greatness, wealth, nor grace!”

He spoke, then wept until his cries arose;The Shah fled from the uproar of his woes.

He laughed and left the old man’s poor abode;His escort followed as he took the road.

When Bahram left that well-known town behind,Before him lay a bramble brake entwined.

A man was seen who gripped an axe to clearThe tangled thorns that spread before him here.

The monarch left his retinue and came,And hailed the grubber with a fitting name:

“O foe of brambles, tell me clearly now:Who ranks the highest in that town, and how?”

He answered, “Farshidvard, a greedy man,Whose greed denies him food and sleep’s brief span.

He has perhaps a hundred thousand sheep,And camels, steeds, and asses more to keep.

The earth is filled with all his hoarded gold;Yet may the earth receive his body cold.

His lot is hunger, nakedness, and pain;No child, no kin, no friend relieves his strain.

A captive in the grip of greed and need,His wasted body starves for lack of feed.

If he sold all his farmland for its worth,His house could brim with gems drawn from the earth.

His shepherds feast on meat in milk, at ease;He eats but millet bread with humble cheese.

He never owned two coats at once in life;He is his own oppressor, scourge, and strife.”

The Shah said, “Though his numbers none can trace,Where does he pasture them in such a place?

Where roam his camels, sheep, and coursers fleet?Where are his herds, and where is their retreat?”

The grubber said, “It is not far from here;Those camels, sheep, and cattle are his, I fear.”

Bahram Goor gave the grubber bright dinars,And said, “This day shall soften all your scars.”

He called a brave horseman, Behruz by name,Who from the ranks of his own escort came.

He sent a hundred horsemen at his side,All free of fear and doubt, all proved and tried.

He chose a scribe as well, an honest man,A skilled accountant fit to count and scan.

He told the grubber, “You grubbed thorns before;Now reap the gold that waits in hidden store.

One hundredth of the wealth shall be your own;Lead these my men to where the hoard is known.”

The grubber’s name was Dilafruz the bright,A stalwart man of stately form and height.

Bahram bestowed on him a noble steed,And said, “Ride with the wind and take the lead.”

Called Light of Hearts, he shone with fortune’s blaze,And now the whole world brightened in his rays.

He led the troop across both hill and plain,Past countless flocks that whitened every lane.

Ten camel caravans filled that domain,Each with a keeper in that wealthy train.

Each caravan was led by a cameleer,Who tended all the camels gathered here.

Twelve thousand cattle next the scribe enrolled,For milk and plowing, kept in herdsmen’s fold.

Full twenty thousand steeds and camels spread;The meadows withered underneath their tread.

Three hundred thousand camel-loads were storedOf curds upon the mountains, hoard on hoard.

There jars of butter filled pits in the ground;Fresh curds and dried lay heaped in mounds around.

Height, slope, and level held wealth past account;Yet none had ever reckoned its amount.

Behruz Hur then prepared his words to write,And praised almighty God, the Source of light.

He praised the All-victorious, All-feeding One,Then Bahram, king beneath the turning sun.

He said, “O monarch, joy of all who live,Your justice passes all that kings can give.

Your silence leaves the treasury to pay;In all things, measure is the better way.

The Shah should live in joy without an end,Yet none are served by what this man could spend.

A wretch named Farshidvard lives here concealed,Unknown at feast and on the battlefield.

He fears not God or Shah, and gives no thanksFor wealth that fills his hills and riverbanks.

He spreads his wealth across these hills unseen,Yet lives deprived, impoverished, and lean.

Your justice seems injustice in this case;Do not count counsel as my own disgrace.

From all this wealth establish royal stores,A treasury to fill those guarded doors.

By the third year, the treasury would stand;I summoned scribes to count at my command.

On Mount Alborz I settled them to write,Yet still the sum escapes their pens and sight.

Though writers’ backs are bent, they cannot sayHow much this miser hid from open day.

Besides, men say that underneath the groundStill greater stores of gold and gems are found.

Here in the mountains I await command,With both eyes fixed upon the royal hand.

My salutation to the Shah; may heLive long, the crown of all the world to me.”

He sent a swift-paced camel on the road,To bear the letter to the Shah’s abode.

When Bahram read it, grief disturbed his mind;Tears filled his eyes; his brows were deeply lined.

He called for silk of Chin and Roman quill,And bade a scribe draw near and use his skill.

He first gave thanks to God, the knowing Guide,Whose farr and kingship rule on every side.

“If I be just, I must not crush this man,Whose wealth through neither theft nor blood began.

He has not stolen, nor caused others wrong;But thanklessness has ruled his heart too long.

He lacked the fear of God, and kept strict guardOn treasure that made soul and body hard.

What use are wolf or sheep upon the plain,If they bring strife and trouble without gain?

What use are gems or stones beneath the ground,When neither food nor clothing can be found?

We shall not build our treasury from woe,Nor fix our hearts on fleeting things below.

Fereydoon vanished, Iraj too is gone,With Tur and Salm, whose fame from old was drawn.

Kavus and Kay Qobad have passed away,With mighty kings whose names survive today.

My father too, who filled my heart with pain,Was neither just nor generous in his reign.

None of these mighty men remains in sight;No one can strive with God’s eternal right.

Collect this wealth and give it all away;Take nothing for yourself as spoil or pay.

Give to all those who hide their needs in shame,And wait in vain for help to ease their flame.

Give old men past all work, despised by thoseWhose wealth has sealed their hearts against their woes.

Give those who spent their all and breathe cold sighs,And men of name whom poverty denies.

Give traders stripped of friends and means their share;Give orphans gold and silver, and their fare.

Give women who have neither spouse nor dress,No craft, no work, no refuge from distress.

Bring radiance to the lives of souls so poor;Let wealth bring light and make their footing sure.

Return then to the city from the store;Live free of any need for treasure more.

Leave Farshidvard the dinars he concealed;Spare him the pain their loss would have revealed.

What are his gems and dinars more than clay,When in the grave he must be laid away?

May turning heaven walk with you as friend;Walk justly and with prudence to the end.”

The Shah’s seal marked the letter to be sent;The courier turned, and back to Behruz went.

Bahram set up his seat of royal stateWithin the pleasance, bright at springtime’s gate.

As he commanded, there the throne was laidBeneath a tree whose blossoms filled the shade.

They brought the wine and cups, a merry throngOf chiefs and minstrels bearing gifts of song.

The king addressed his counselors: “We findOur joy in fellowship with humankind.

Though we have stature, mien, and noble frame,We face the lonely tomb without acclaim.

Death wipes away the records of our day,And brings our halls and palaces to clay.

The king and beggar, when their lives are through,Take but the good name earned by what they do.

Whatever men have earned by toil must stayBehind them when at last they pass away.

Enough if praise of us remains behind;The crown and girdle pass to other kind.

You need uprightness, innocence, and grace,So joy may bring no harm and no disgrace.

Already thirty-eight full years have passed;How many days of joy have fled so fast.

But once a man has lived through forty years,The thought of death within his heart appears.

If one white hair appears among the black,The joys of youth begin to turn their back.

When musk turns white as camphor, musk is spent;Such camphor ill becomes the crown’s intent.

Two years more I will spend in feast and sport,Then, strength half-broken, seek God’s higher court.

In rough cloth I will stand before His face,And give Him thanks forever for His grace.

For I have passed my days with crown and joy,And tasted all the pleasures kings employ.

With rose, pomegranate, apple, quince, and wine,Let golden goblets never fail to shine.

When apples take the garnet’s crimson glow,And skies the leopard’s dappled markings show,

When fragrant blossoms flourish all around,And solace in the crimson wine is found,

When air is pleasant, neither hot nor cold,Earth fresh, and water blue through fields unrolled,

When furs in Mehrgan’s chill our limbs enfold,Then I to Jaz will ride, as kings of old.

I will hold royal hunting on that field,And leave a lasting memory through its yield.

The Gur-e-Khar grows thick of neck; its hideBears tiger’s hues, a lion’s heart inside.

No dogs or cheetahs need that lengthy ride,Nor hawks and falcons carried at our side.

That place is fit for gorz and bow and chase;No hour shall pass without the hunter’s race.

The plain I saw near Jaz was thick with reeds,Like spear-shafts rising where the hunter speeds.

There we shall find the lion in his den,And hunt, if time allows, with mounted men.”

He paused till Shahrivar had massed its clouds,Then troops from every quarter came in crowds.

From every clime an army keen for strifeSet toward Iran’s monarch, lord of life.

He chose among them noted chiefs for chase,And gathered mounted swordsmen to the place.

A full ten thousand horsemen, swords in hand,He carried with him toward the hunting land.

They brought pavilions, tents, enclosures wide,With beasts and shelters moving at his side.

Before Bahram, the laborers rode ahead,And dug fresh wells along the route they led.

They fitted wheels above the wells they made,To draw the water for the army’s aid.

The Shah came later with his royal mien,And saw the hunting ground, both wide and green.

He saw the plains alive with Gur-e-Khar,And heard the lions roaring from afar.

He said, “Here lies the quarry I would claim,Where lions prowl, and woods are full of game.

Drink wine tonight and let your spirits soar,While meat and merry cheer attend our store.

Then take your rest until the dawn grows bright,And Sol, the world’s great luster, ends the night.

Our scimitars shall fell the lions first,Those savage terrors in their roaring thirst.

We shall clear lions from the wood, then eatThe Gur-e-Khar my shafts bring down for meat.”

He stayed that night, and when the morning shone,He reached the forest with his men alone.

A lion, full of Gur-e-Khar, drew near,And strode before the monarch without fear.

Brave Bahram said, “Although I have my bow,And skill enough to lay that monster low,

I will assail this lion with my blade,So no man calls me coward or afraid.”

He donned a coat of wool, soaked through, as guard,And sprang upon his charger, riding hard.

When that great dragon-lion saw him near,It reared and struck its claws in rage and fear.

It sought to smite the charger on the head;The warrior spurred his horse ahead instead.

He struck the lion’s head; its mate took flight,And fled before the monarch’s dreadful might.

He clove the lion through with one swift blade;The forest beasts beheld him, sore afraid.

Another lion roared and faced his foe;His mate lay nursing little cubs below.

Bahram’s sharp khanjar struck the lion’s neck,And left its severed head beside the wreck.

One said to him, “O sun-faced Shah of might,Have you no mercy on yourself in fight?

This wood is full of lions and their young,With nursing cubs from savage mothers sprung.

Be wary now, however bold you feel;By Mehrgan their young run close at their heel.

Three farsangs mark this forest’s full extent;Though one whole year in hunting lions were spent,

The world would still have lions left to slay;Why lay such labor on yourself today?

When first you took the throne, the compact stood:You fought the lions for your royal good.

Now you are Shah, and all the world is yours;Why still fight beasts behind these forest doors?

You came for Gur-e-Khar and bowman’s play,Not lion-strife to wear your strength away.”

The Shah replied, “Old sage, let dawn arrive,Then Gur-e-Khar and shaft shall come alive.

No mounted chief has earned a lasting nameThrough bow and arrow as his only claim.

If we would give to manhood all its due,The gorz and sword must win us honor too.”

The Mobad said, “Had ten such men as youGone into battle, steadfast, tried, and true,

Then Rum and Chin would kneel in full defeat;Wise men would ship their goods in swift retreat.

Far be the evil eye from such a farr;May rose and feast attend you where you are.”

Then with Mobadan and his captains near,The Shah rode from the woods to shouts of cheer.

As he rode home, the troops acclaimed their king:“Long may you rule with crown and signet ring!”

That Pahlevan then reached his royal tent;He sent his escort off with his consent.

He washed away the sweat of hunt and heat;A trusty steward made his tent complete.

They cleared the thorns and swept the royal floor;Musk, camphor, and rosewater they would pour.

They scattered musk where Bahram planned to sleep,And golden tables stood in ordered keep.

They dressed the tables with the garden’s bloom,And lamb and other dishes filled the room.

When eating ended, Shah Bahram Goor calledFor one great crystal cup that all enthralled.

A fairy-faced cupbearer brought it near,And placed it in the just king’s hands with cheer.

He said, “Great Ardeshir, whose fortune’s fireMade old men young, established our empire.

We are his servants, if we earn that name;He was the source from which our greatness came.

In fight and feast, at counsel and at board,Give none but him the title of true lord.

When Iskandar came forth from Roman land,He wrecked Iran with harsh and ruthless hand.

He slew thirty-six kings; their curse still liesUpon that brutal man beneath the skies.

The earth condemns his evil to this hour,While Fereydoon’s good name keeps all its power.

May only good from me, and never hate,Proceed throughout the world and every state.

Bring me a herald, strong of voice and bearing,To circle through the camp, my edict sharing.

Let him proclaim through desert, road, and way:Whoever steals another’s goods today,

Be they rich gems, brocade, or sable furs,Or worthless chaff where Barkooh’s pasture stirs,

Turned backward on his horse, in shameful plight,Shall ride between two guards in all men’s sight.

With ankles bound beneath his mount, he goesTo Azargashasp, where sacred fire glows.

Before the sacred fire he shall bow low,And worship God, to whom all thanks we owe.

His goods shall go to those he robbed, to payFor what he took and hurt along the way.

If any horse should damage planted grain,Or fruit trees suffer from a rider’s rein,

That rider spends a year behind the doorOf prison, whatsoever rank he bore.

Our hunt has brought enough of toil and strain;Let no town suffer hardship in our train.”

From Jaz and Barkooh merchants came with wares,And made the camp like Chin’s great market fairs.

Next day, when sun displayed its golden crown,The Shah rode forth to hunt Gur-e-Khar down.

The soldiers strung their bows across the plain;The Shah himself rode in the rearward train.

He said, “Let every archer hunting gameDraw back his bow and take a steady aim.

The shaft should strike behind and pierce the chest,And prove the archer’s mastery at its best.”

A Pahlevan replied, “O king of grace,Look through the ranks assembled in this place.

Among your friends or foes, no hand is knownTo match the strength that you possess alone.

May head and crown live ever; when you wieldThe bow, the gorz, the sword, our spirits yield.

Your royal farr and stature bring us shame;Our hands grow weak, and none can take his aim.”

The Shah said, “God has given me this skill;What strength has Bahram save through Heaven’s will?”

He urged Shabdiz and neared a buck at speed;Then loosed his shaft while racing on his steed.

The arrow struck exactly as he meant;Through haunch and breast its deadly passage went.

When it fell dead, the golden-belted came,And marveled at the shot and praised his name.

They could not see the arrow’s point or vane;Both lay concealed within the creature slain.

The warlike Pahlevans praised what they saw,And one addressed the Shah in wondering awe:

“O king, may evil never venture near;You are a horseman; we ride asses here.

We lack the skill that donkey riders show;Beside their art, our own stands far below.”

The Shah replied, “That arrow was not mine;The All-conqueror granted force divine.

No man beneath the sky is more forlornThan one whom God abandons to His scorn.”

He spurred his horse, which seemed to soar from view,As though on wings of the homa it flew.

A female Gur-e-Khar stood in his track;Her foal had gone ahead; she lingered back.

He struck the beast and clove it clean in two;His blade cut through her middle, straight and true.

The chiefs and sworded nobles reached his side,And saw that stroke with wonder, awe, and pride.

A sage exclaimed, “What swordsmanship is here!May evil never cross this monarch’s sphere.

No likeness has he but the moon on high;All chiefs beneath his royal Fortune lie.

The heavens bow beneath his scimitar,And lower than his arrow flies each star.”

The troops behind him cleared the plain of game;Then Bahram gave command to mark his name.

He bade them fashion rings of shining gold,And grave his royal name for all to hold.

He ringed the creatures’ ears and let them go,That all the world his royal name might know.

Three hundred beasts he loosed to range the waste,Each ringed, as royal quarry to be chased.

A herald rode among the troops to say:“Give all these Gur-e-Khars as gifts away.

Let merchants take them freely from the plain;Let no man sell his quarry here for gain.”

From Barkooh and from chiefs of Jaz they broughtAbundant furs and brocades richly wrought.

He took their gifts and bade their taxes cease;Though they could pay, he granted them release.

Their poor and laborers grew rich thereby,Through royal bounty poured beneath the sky.

Many gained crowns and thrones by his command;He came back from the chase into the land.

A week he passed in mirth among his men,Then held his open court and judged again.

It was his custom on the riding groundTo sit where troops and suppliants gathered round.

A herald sought the needy everywhere,And voiced the king’s decree for all to share:

“You seekers of your rights,” the herald cried,“From men, seek God, and let Him be your guide.

If through our rule you lie in pain tonight,Or have no share of wealth, come claim your right.

Come to the king upon the riding ground;Perhaps your Fortune shall be newly found.

If one is old, past work, and weak with years,Or young but crippled by disease and tears,

If any of the people lives in debt,And whom relentless creditors beset,

If children have been left without a sire,Yet will not beg although their needs are dire,

Or if their mothers hide their need from sight,And bear their secret poverty at night,

Or if some wealthy man has died and leftYoung children by a faithless guard bereft,

An overseer who sets his heart on gold,Whom neither shame nor fear of God can hold,

Conceal from me no matter of this kind;I will not have the poor conceal their mind.

I will make poor men wealthy, free from fear,And those who hide their need may seek me here.

The straying I will lead to Faith, and saveThe poor from debts that drag them toward the grave.

If officers of mine commit a wrong,And rob the fatherless though weak or strong,

I will hang the unjust alive for allTo see how those who wrong the helpless fall.”

Then royal treasure flowed through open doors;The poor grew wealthy from the royal stores.

The Shah, grown wise, left hunting grounds behind,And reached Baghdad with gladness in his mind.

The haughty chiefs came forth before his sight,Both kin and strangers, men of lordly might.

He bade the army turn and ride away,And sought the palace where he meant to stay.

They decked the golden bower for delight;The handmaids called for musk and wine that night.

The idols sang and made their harp strings ring;They cleared the hall of strangers for the king.

With harp and wine and pipe and singing sound,Their music seemed to bless the air around.

In every chamber, dancers every nightPerformed to keep the monarch’s spirit bright.

Two weeks he spent in mirth and opened wideHis treasury, and all who came supplied.

He scattered largess, then to Istakhr rode,And crowned himself: the jeweled circlet glowed.

He unlocked Kharrad’s bower, and richly dressedThe idols’ chambers, furnished with the best.

He gave the women dinars from his store,Then found their furnishings required more.

If one lacked crown or throne of ivory white,The monarch grumbled at that sorry sight.

He bit his lip at Rozbeh in disdain,And spoke of tribute from Khazar’s domain.

“The tribute paid by Rum and Khazar’s landI give these women by my own command.

Bring ass-loads of dinars; let taxes flowFrom Rey and Isfahan, the sums they owe.

Such poor provision in the women’s wingIs never worthy of Iran’s great king.”

They spread brocade and raised new tax in lands,And gathered wealth through royal officers’ hands.

Thus for a while he lived in ease and peace,And felt the toil and strife of warfare cease.

His days were spent in hunting and in feast;His joy with every passing day increased.

Soon through Hind and Rum the tidings ran,Through Chin, Turan, and every settled span:

“The heart of Shah Bahram is given to sport;He heeds no man and keeps no guarded court.

He has no outposts and no sentries near;No Pahlevans are posted on the frontier.

For love of sport he lets all matters drift,And knows no more where worldly dangers shift.”

When Chin’s ambitious Khan these tidings heard,He paid his troops, and all his army stirred.

From Chin and from Khutan he raised a force,And marched on Iran by the eastern course.

No one gave thought to Bahram’s strength that day;And Caesar, too, brought troops into array.

When Iran heard of Caesar’s troops arrayed,And Chin’s advancing troops, all grew afraid.

Then all the chieftains, gathered from the land,Came full of wrath before Bahram’s command.

With rage and bitterness they bluntly cried,“Your glorious Fortune turns its face aside.

The heads of kings should be intent on war;Your heart seeks feast and chase forevermore.

The crown and throne are worthless in your eyes;Iran, the troops, and treasure you despise.”

The ruler answered those who showed the way,The Mobadan gathered round in dismay:

“My helper is Yazdan whose hand has wroughtThe world, more wise than all the sages taught.

By that great Sovereign’s power, I shall holdIran secure against the wolves grown bold.

With Fortune, troops, the sword, and wealth to spend,I will bring this land’s suffering to an end.”

He went on with his sport; the nobles wept,Their eyes ran blood while he his pleasures kept.

The people said, “His conduct breeds dismay;The hearts of righteous men will turn away.”

Yet Bahram’s heart stayed vigilant and wise,Though inward trouble darkened both his eyes.

In secret he prepared his men and gear,While none on earth could make his purpose clear.

All Iran looked upon him in dismay;Their hearts were torn by what they saw each day.

They lost all hope of him; in their despair,Their lives and households scarcely claimed their care.

Then word arrived that Chin’s invading bandHad crossed the border into Iran’s land.

He called high-minded Gostaham to court,And spoke of Khan and troops in grave report.

This Gostaham, chief Pahlevan in fight,A minister, took joy in battle’s might.

Then Mehr Pirooz Kharzad came to standWith Mehr Barzin Farhad at his command.

Both Bahram and Pirooz joined in the roll,With Rohham and Khazarvan, stout of soul.

Two rulers came, their power widely known,One lord of Rey, one Gilan called his own.

Their hearts grew glad upon the battle day;Dad Barzin ruled; Zabul would all obey.

Gharan and Burzmehr joined the gathered band;Grim Rad Barzin came too at his command.

Six thousand men he chose, all tried in war,Whose wisdom matched the strength of arms they bore.

To Narsi, brother of the Shah, secureIn faith and power, loyal, just, and pure,

He gave the Pahlevans, the throne and crown,To guard the treasury and realm’s renown.

Narsi, gracious, faithful, noble, wise,Accepted charge beneath the watchful skies.

He led his chosen soldiers on their wayTo Azar Abadagan without delay.

Since Bahram took from Pars so small a band,Both great and common folk misread his hand.

They thought, “Shah Bahram flees the coming fight,And seeks Azargashasp in secret flight.”

When Bahram turned his face toward sacred Fire,An envoy came from Caesar, grave and dire.

Narsi received the Roman with due grace,And lodged him nobly in the palace place.

The troops sought out the high Mobad, to learnThe Shah’s intent, and voice their grave concern.

They said, “He left his throne; our Fortune fell.Why does he not store wealth as kings know well?

He pours out gold on every town and farm,And lets his youth slip by, and sees no harm.

The townsfolk and the soldiers have dispersed;Each grasps at power, and serves himself the first.”

At length, when every argument was spent,They planned an embassy with this intent:

“Send someone to the Khan of Chin,” they said,“Before his plundering troops bring further dread.

Perhaps our land may yet endure this blow,Though he who ruled it now has fled the foe.”

Narsi replied, “This counsel leads to shame;The world could scarcely cleanse so foul a name.

Shall I ask quarter of Chin’s Khan, and yieldIn shame before we even take the field?

My men and elephants will clothe the plain;Strong fighters, arms, and treasure still remain.

Their khanjars could raise dust from fire; why fearBecause the Shah took few and left us here?

Why have your thoughts turned evil in your breast?Think ill, and ill will bring your homes no rest.”

The Iranians heard, but answered in dismay,“With very few, Shah Bahram rode away.

Must we not yield our hearts to grief and fear,When Chin’s great Khan in arms is drawing near?

Our land will lose both scent and hue in war;The foe will trample field and town and store.

They will crush troops and Narsi where they stand;We must save life and home throughout the land.”

A learned Mobad, sincere and pure of heart,Was skilled in counsel and the speaker’s art.

Humayi was the man the people choseTo bear their words before the eastern foes.

They penned the Khan a craven letter, fraughtWith words of servile fear and anxious thought.

“Your slaves are we; we bow before your will,And seek your pleasure, loyal, humble still.

We send the goods that grow in Iran’s plain,With gifts and tribute, so that peace may reign.

We bring our tribute, for we have no powerTo stand against the Turks in battle’s hour.”

Thus from Iran the blessed Humayi went,With chosen nobles on their mission bent.

He gave the Khan their message, word by word;Relief and pride were stirred by what he heard.

Humayi spoke of Bahram’s flight in fear,His troops in swift retreat as foes drew near.

The noble Khan, elated, proud, and grand,Addressed the Turkish chiefs at his command:

“We saddled heaven!” so the Khan exclaimed;“The turning sky is ours, bridled and tamed.

Who ever took Iran without a fight,As we have done through patience and foresight?”

The Khan gave gifts of worth in rich array,With Chinese silver, gold dinars that day.

He wrote, “May wisdom walk beside the pure;I grant the pact that honest men assure.

When with my troops I reach Marv, I will bringThe land the colors of a pheasant’s wing.

Through justice, wisdom, fragrance in my reign,Then milk shall flow with water on the plain.

I shall await Iran’s appointed gold,And tribute from its chiefs, its lions bold.

I shall come to Marv and there abide,Lest marching troops consume the countryside.”

The envoy hurried back at eager pace,And bore the answer through Iran’s broad space.

Then Chin’s lord brought his troops to Marv, and highThe riders’ dust rose black against the sky.

When he had rested, feasting filled his thought;No one recalled Bahram or what he wrought.

At Marv no rest or sleep by night was found,For harp and lyre poured out continual sound.

The troops lay scattered, none assigned to guard;No sentry watched the road or outer yard.

No one expected war or sudden fray;All lived in wine and sport, in feast and play.

The Khan watched for their tribute, but delayInflamed his heart with anger day by day.

But Bahram kept his watch against the foe,To guard his troops from any sudden blow.

His spies roamed wide; their vigil never slept,While he in readiness his army kept.

The news reached Bahram: Marv was where they lay,The Khan and all his troops in vast array.

From Azargashasp he led his men away,No baggage train to hinder or delay.

Each man had two strong horses for the road;Their Roman helms above their armor showed.

In cuirasses, their weapons all complete,They hurried like the wind on tireless feet.

From Ardabil to Amol rode the force,Like mountain torrents rushing on their course.

Then onward through the Gorgan lands he passed,And bore his nobles’ hardship to the last.

He reached the town of Nisa with his men;An upright guide went on before them then.

Through mountains, waterless and trackless ground,Through night and far into the day they wound.

He posted lookouts through the light of day,And guards by night to watch along the way.

No pheasant flew as fast as he drew nearTo Marv; a scout brought news for him to hear:

“The Khan is heedless of affairs,” he said;“The hunt at Kashmihan fills all his head.

He thinks of nothing else by night or day;His counselor is Ahriman, they say.”

Bahram rejoiced to hear the runner’s word;His weariness was gone, his spirit stirred.

One day he rested there, till man and steedWere fresh again for sudden battle’s need.

Then, rested, to Kashmihan’s field he pressed;At dawn the sun rose crowned above the crest.

The karnays filled each ear with cries of might;And colored banners filled each warrior’s sight.

The uproar rose from all the hunting ground;Both king and army heard the mighty sound.

The uproar split the lion’s ears; the soilRan red with blood amid the battle’s toil.

One might have said, “The clouds are hailing stone,”Or, “From the moon a rain of blood is thrown.”

Roused from his hunt, the Khan was caught that day;Khazarvan took him captive in the fray.

Three hundred noble chiefs from Chin were caught,Then bound to saddles and as captives brought.

From Kashmihan to Marv the Shah pressed on,His horses lean, their flesh by hard rides gone.

At Marv they slew the men of Chin they found;He chased those fleeing from the killing ground.

For thirty farsang he pursued their flight;Behind him Gharan followed through the fight.

Back at the hunting ground, he shared the spoilAmong the troops who bore the battle’s toil.

Victorious over Chin, he raised his face,And knew all his success was Heaven’s grace.

God grants both good and evil strength to rise,And rules the sun and moon within the skies.

At Marv, Bahram Goor rested men and horse,Till both were fresh and strong to hold their course.

He chose Bukhara for his next attack,And set his feet upon the warlike track.

One day and night brought Amuy to his sight;He sought no chase, but only war and fight.

At night’s first watch he crossed the river wide,Then Farab’s desert stretched on every side.

When air grew golden with the rising sun,And lapis night from heaven’s robe had run,

The dust grew dark as any falcon’s wing;Through Mai and Morgh advanced the conquering king.

He broke the Turkish army in his ire;Their fields and country blazed with spreading fire.

Stars sought the moon’s skirts in that headlong flight;Fathers trod over sons amid their fright.

The Turkish chieftains, captains in the war,Came humbly, all on foot, from battle’s roar.

With humbled hearts before Bahram they cried,“O Shah, whose Fortune walks at heaven’s side,

O mighty one, first noble of the earth,Above all other lords in rank and worth,

The Khan betrayed the covenant he made;Let not the guiltless perish by the blade.

Such tyranny does not become the great;Demand our tribute, but avert our fate.

Why strike the heads of those who did no wrong?Our tribute is your due, O king most strong.

Our women and our men now bow to you;We fight for you; our service shall be true.”

The Shah felt pity for their grief and cries;With wisdom’s hand he sewed up anger’s eyes.

In thought, that man of God restrained his bands,And checked the bloodshed raging through the lands.

When royal mercy soothed their fear and dread,Their hearts grew calm, and all their turmoil fled.

The chief of chiefs approached, his pledge made clear:They would pay heavy tribute every year.

He took the tribute they agreed to pay,And hostages before he turned away.

To Farab he returned in cheerful guise,A smile upon his lips, light in his eyes.

He paused and let his troops rest there a week,Then called the potentates of Chin to speak.

He raised a pillar built of plastered stone,To mark the frontier by his will alone.

To cross to Iran, Turks and Khalaj would needThe Shah’s consent before they could proceed.

He made the Jihun stand as boundary line,The realm’s clear limit by his royal sign.

Among the troops was Shahra, wise in fame,A man of rank, success, and honored name.

He made him king of Turan; at its height,His throne was crowned with moonlight, gleaming bright.

When Shahra took the silver seat of state,His gorz hung at his waist; his gifts were great.

He set the golden crown upon his head;Through all Turan the joy of crowning spread.

When Turan’s affairs had reached their settled end,The Shah’s heart eased; his troubled mind could mend.

He wrote Narsi of all the Turkish war,And all his troops had done, and all they bore.

It opened thus: “I offer humble praiseTo God, who rules the worlds through all their days;

Yazdan of victory, of sovereign might,Of Saturn, Mars, and Moon’s mysterious light;

The great and low are under His command;Whatever comes is subject to His hand.

From far Chin’s borders now I send this scrollTo Narsi, brother faithful, heart and soul.

This letter, penned on painted silk, I sealFor all our chiefs and for the common weal.

Those absent when we faced the Khan in fightMust hear from those who witnessed every sight.

His army was so vast, one might have saidIts dust had smeared the sky with pitch outspread.

The ground became a sea of blood and dead;His evil Fortune failed, his glory fled.

The turning sky grew weary of his reign;The Khan was taken fighting on the plain.

I bring him bound, with blood that fills his eyes;Upon a camel, sick at heart, he lies.

The necks of all the proud are bent in fear;Their tongues are mild, their hearts are burned and sere.

Those who were enemies now tribute pay;The erring men have turned toward the way.

My troops and I, whom friends now long to greet,Shall turn back home, with victory complete.”

The camels, wind-foot, foaming as they passed,Rushed onward like the roaring tempest’s blast.

When that swift letter reached Narsi’s hand,He shared his joy with all across the land.

The high Mobad and warriors gathered near;Through all Iran rose cries of joy and cheer.

All listened closely to the triumph tale;The guilty nobles grew ashamed and pale.

Their fault before the Shah weighed on each breast;They sought the Mobad, humbled and distressed.

They said, “The Div and evil counsel ledOur feet from wisdom where dark falsehood spread.

We strayed in blindness from the royal way;Now shame has turned us back to truth today.

With such a force, who could anticipateThat God Himself would open heaven’s gate?

It is a marvel past all prudent thought,Beyond what learned men and sages wrought.

In your reply, recounting foul and fair,Include our plea: ask him our lives to spare.

Although the chiefs have sinned and broken trust,The glorious Shah is generous and just.”

Narsi agreed and said, “So will I write,To free the Shah’s heart from revenge and spite.”

At once he wrote an answer to the king,Disclosing fair and foul in everything.

He said, “Iran’s great men, oppressed by fear,For home, child, wealth, and country gathered here.

They sought protection from Chin’s Khan, when trustIn Shah and realm had crumbled into dust.

It was not enmity, offense, or strife;No other king was dearer to their life.

Now if the conquering king of kings forgives,He makes their dark night day, and each heart lives.

They chose me advocate to plead their case,And ask that you forgive them to their face.”

A worthy Mobad, Burzmehr called by name,Went gladly on the mission when it came.

He reached the monarch and, as he was told,Recounted every matter, new and old.

The Shah received his message with content;His anger cooled, his wrath at last was spent.

From Chaghan, Khatlan, Balkh, and Bukhara then,The chieftains came with tribute, gifts, and men.

Before the Fire’s worshipper they bowed;With barsom, Gharchi Mobadan joined the crowd.

From year to year, all those with wealth to bringCame bearing tax and tribute to the king.

When fire-temple and feast had been arrayedFor New Year’s Day and Sadeh’s bright parade,