Book D9Yazdegard I and the Rise of Bahram Goor

When Yazdegard was crowned, his heart grew proud;He called the soldiers round him in a crowd.

He set his brother’s crown upon his head,And felt delight to know his brother dead.

He spoke before the nobles of the land:“All who love justice, heed my firm command.

First offer praise to God, then let each heartRejoice in all the justice we impart.

Give honor to the wise, whose minds discern;Kill those whose hands to evil action turn.

Whoever seeks our justice shall find restFrom wrong and want that keep his life oppressed.

His station everywhere we shall increase;From greed and vengeance let the heart find peace.

Only the great and Mobadan advise,The shrewd of heart, with truth before their eyes.

But he whose faults have stained his very soul,Whom wickedness makes drunk beyond control,

Who crushes helpless men beneath his feet,And lifts his neck through wealth and self-conceit,

We will resist and strip his power away,And grant the poor more favor day by day.

Who scorns our anger and, before our eyes,Makes insolence his guide, our will defies,

His neck seeks Indian steel; his body mustFind bed in earth, and rest upon the dust.

Attend my bidding; let it clear your sight,And wear your wisdom like a breastplate bright.”

The men whose hope was gorz and sharpened bladeAll shook like willows, trembling and afraid.

Once he was firmly settled in his reign,His greatness grew; his love began to wane.

He scorned the sages; all the ancient waysOf kingship fell from use beneath his gaze.

Governors, Pahlevans, and nobles great,And learned Mobadan who served the state,

Were wind to him; his soul grew dark within,And made a trade of tyranny and sin.

Love fled his soul, and justice left his reign;He answered no petitions brought in pain.

No man held any standing in his sight;At once he punished any fault outright.

The ministers who helped his fortune riseAnd raised his crown in honor in men’s eyes,

All pledged that none would speak before the throneOf that afflicted realm, or make it known.

All writhed in fear beneath his heavy hand;His terror left them lifeless through the land.

When envoys came, or subjects sought redress,And begged protection in their deep distress,

A minister, apprised of every suit,Would hasten forth to hear each one’s dispute.

With gentle voice he sent them on their way,And spoke with shame the words he had to say:

“The Shah will not attend to state affairs;No path to him is open for your prayers.

I told him all your case and every plea,But little justice governs his decree.”

When seven years of Yazdegard had passed,Oppressed, the Mobadan stood pale, aghast.

In Farvardin, when year eight had begun,The world beheld the Faith’s returning sun.

On Ormozd’s day he had a child whose birthBore happy stars and omens bright for earth.

His father named him Bahram, and the boyFilled all his father’s heart with boundless joy.

At court were astrologers, skilled and wise;A prudent king should heed their searching eyes.

The Indian lord Soroush stood at his side,With judgment clear and wisdom as his guide.

An Iranian, Hushyar, versed in that lore,Could bridle heaven with the skill he bore.

These prudent seekers of the Way drew near,Before the Shah when summons reached their ear.

They gauged the stars with astrolabes in hand,And read the Roman tables, closely scanned.

They read his hidden fortune in the sky:The child would rule the world, his station high.

The seven climes would bow beneath his might;A glad and pious king would guard the right.

They came before the Shah without delay,With charts and astrolabes in full array.

They said, “We gathered knowledge of each kind,And searched the heavens with instructed mind.

We learned that heaven loves this noble child;Its favor on his infant fortune smiled.

The seven climes shall bow before his name;His mighty reign shall win enduring fame.”

The Shah rejoiced to hear the words they bore,And gave them royal jewels from his store.

When they had left, the chiefs remained behind,With ministers and Mobadan combined.

They sat in counsel, seeking how to raiseThe child in wisdom and in righteous ways.

If he escaped his father’s evil way,He would become a just king in his day.

“If he should share that nature,” said the wise,“He will bring ruin under royal skies.

The Mobadan and Pahlevans will grieve;His soul no joy or brightness shall perceive.”

Then all the Mobadan, with loyal care,Approached the Shah and laid their counsel bare.

They said, “This lively child is free from blame;No charge or slander can approach his name.

The world now rests beneath your royal hand;Each clime pays tribute, pledged to your command.

Seek out a land where learned men abound,And through their knowledge peace and ease are found.

Choose there a fosterer of honored name,Whose country blesses him for all his fame.

Let this good prince gain virtue from his guide,And let his rule spread joy on every side.”

The Shah, on hearing this, called envoys near,And sent them far beyond each known frontier.

To Rum, to Hind, to Chin, and distant lands,He sent his messengers with firm commands.

A chief went to the Arabs to discernWhat good or ill their country might return.

A crier went through every distant place,To seek a tutor fit for Bahram’s grace.

An eloquent and learned scribe they sought,Who read the stars and kept what he was taught.

From every clime wise Mobadan then came,Accomplished and renowned in art and name.

As each one reached the court and royal sight,He sought to guide the prince and teach him right.

He questioned them, and honored every guest,And settled them in homes from east to west.

At night went Numan, Monzer at his side,With Arab spearmen famous far and wide.

When all these chiefs in Pars had gathered round,They came before the Shah on royal ground.

They said, “We are your slaves who wait your will,To answer and obey your counsel still.

Such times require a noble man to raiseThe royal son in learning’s worthy ways.

To take him in and teach him what is right,And clear his heart of darkness through that light.

From Rum and Hind and Pars, men here are wiseIn measured forms and motions of the skies.

Philosophers and speakers, versed in lore,And men of practice stand before your door.

We all are dust beneath your royal feet,And guides to knowledge, if you find us meet.

Look well, and choose which one is fit for you,And who can make your purpose sound and true.”

Then Monzer spoke: “We are your slaves, your own;We live for nothing but the royal throne.

The Shah knows all our skills; within his keep,He is the shepherd, we his flock of sheep.

We ride with courage, skilled in horse and spear,More than a match for sages gathered here.

We have no readers of the stars or signs,No men who track the sky with figured lines.

Our hearts are full of love for him who reigns;Beneath us Arab horses race the plains.

We serve your son, and praise his royal name;His greatness is the glory we proclaim.”

When Yazdegard had heard what Monzer said,He weighed the matter deeply in his head.

He saw the end within the first design,And gave him Bahram, child of royal line.

The Shah commanded robes of honor brought,And raised Monzer in rank beyond all thought.

They robed the king of Yemen in the hall,Then brought his royal mount before them all.

From Yazdegard’s high court toward the plainWent camels, horses, litters in a train.

With slaves and nurses in a countless throng,The train through every marketplace stretched long.

The roads through every bazaar were hung bright,From gate to court, with color, wealth, and light.

When Monzer entered Yemen once again,The roads were thronged by women and by men.

Once he had reached his home, he searched for rareAnd noble women, capable and fair.

From Arab and Iranian houses great,He sought among the rich of honored state.

From these great houses he chose women four,Whose birth and skill were plain in all they bore.

Two Arabs, two of Kayanian descent,To nurse the child with all their skill were sent.

They nursed the child and tended him four years,With careful love, protecting him from fears.

When milk had filled him out and strength now grew,They weaned him, though the task was hard to do.

They reared him delicately, day by day,Until at seven he spoke in princely way.

He said, “O chief, no suckling child am I;Do not still nurse me while my years go by.

Entrust me to the learned; do not slightMy need to learn, or leave my mind in night.”

Monzer replied, “Not yet, my prince, not yet;The hour for formal learning is not set.

When that time comes and you are fit to learn,I will not let you idly from it turn.

But play now shapes the body as it grows,And gives the child the strength the warrior knows.”

Bahram replied, “Do not suppose me slow;Though young in years, I know what I should know.

Though neck and chest are not yet fit to fight,My mind is strong and reaches toward the light.

Your years are many, but your wisdom small;You do not know my nature well at all.

Who seeks the fitting time must first discernWhich task comes first, and which must wait its turn.

If you seek out the time amiss, you findThat anxious thoughts consume your heart and mind.

Work out of season bears no fruit to claim;The head stands first within the human frame.

Teach me whatever suits a king to know,So I may learn the worth his acts should show.

True knowledge must come first; blessed is the oneWho sees the end before the work’s begun.”

Then Monzer gazed at him with deep surprise,And whispered praise to God beneath the skies.

He sent a chief on dromedary’s backTo Sursan, urging haste along the track.

The envoy found three Mobadan of renown,Accomplished, learned, esteemed within that town.

One came to teach the young prince how to write,And flood his heart’s dark corners with clear light.

The second taught the hawk and cheetah’s art,A skill to kindle gladness in the heart.

Then polo, bow, and arrow trained his hand,With wheeling swordplay, swift at his command.

He learned to turn the reins both left and right,To raise his spear and stand erect in fight.

The third instructed him in kingly arts,Administration, rule, and all their parts.

He taught him all a monarch should recall,The forms and duties needed to rule all.

When these three Mobadan reached Monzer’s court,They spoke with him at length and made report.

He placed the prince beneath their learned rule,And, learned warrior, taught him in their school.

Bahram, that royal seed, became so trainedThat every manly art was soon attained.

Whenever some new art was brought to sight,He longed to master it with keen delight.

At twelve the warrior shone as shines the sun,And every course his teachers set was done.

In books, in polo, with the hawk in flight,And cheetah, he required no further light.

In battle he could turn the reins at speed,Or charge and wheel and urge his racing steed.

He said to Monzer, “Man of honest thought,Send home the masters; all their work is wrought.”

Monzer bestowed great gifts on every one,And they returned rejoicing, duty done.

Then said the prince, “Call spearmen’s steeds to me,And let all the horsemen wheel bold and free.

Bid them couch lances, ride before my eyes,Then name the price of any steed I prize.

Whatever horse I favor in that band,I shall pay what its owners may demand.”

Monzer replied, “Accomplished noble youth,A prince who seeks a name through skill and truth,

My keeper of the steeds is yours to guide;I, too, their master, serve here at your side.

If you must buy Arabian steeds with gold,Why trouble me to find what can be sold?”

Bahram replied, “May all your honored yearsBe filled with good and emptied of all fears.

I want a steed to spur down mountain height,That never needs the bridle drawn in fright.

When sure of foot, he must in battle flyPast lesser steeds, like wind that races by.

If any steed has not been tried before,Do not press hard or force his pace for more.”

Then Monzer ordered Numan, “Go and seekThe finest steeds for battle, swift and sleek.

Go through the desert where the spearmen ride,And bring the finest chargers far and wide.”

He hurried out and soon again returnedWith one full hundred steeds whose mettle burned.

Bahram beheld them and rode on the plain,And wheeled among them, testing heart and rein.

Yet every horse, though fleet from side to side,Seemed wingless once the prince had climbed astride.

At length he chose a chestnut broad of breast,Whose wind-like feet outstripped the tested best.

A second, branded differently, he chose,A bay, as dread as some nahang that rose.

Its shoes flashed fire beneath its thundering tread,And from its ruddy breast fell drops of red.

Then Monzer paid what both those steeds were worth;In Kufa’s woodland lay their native earth.

Bold Bahram took the pair with watchful care,Bright as Azargashasp, a blazing flare.

He kept them like fresh apples, prized and sound,Lest any harmful wind should sweep around.

One day the prince sought Monzer to implore:“O bright of mind, well versed in wisdom’s lore,

You keep me here, though cause you cannot show,And leave me burdened by this inward woe.

In every heart a hidden longing lies;No heart is free of what it hides from eyes.

Through grief a man grows yellow in the face;Through joy his body gains in strength and grace.

A fair-faced woman offers sweet relief,And comes to aid the heart in every grief.

To prince or Pahlevan in youthful might,She brings both solace and the heart’s delight.

She guides his faith and leads his soul to light;Through her, God’s faith endures, his deeds grow right.

Command that five or six fair maids appear,Like lovely suns in beauty gathered here.

Perhaps one or two will win my heart’s embrace,And bring my troubled thoughts a quiet place.

Perhaps I too may have a child one day,To ease my heart and drive some care away.

May God be pleased with me, and may men raiseMy name in every gathering with praise.”

Old Monzer heard the prince and blessed his name,And praised the words that from the young heart came.

He sent a man to seek the dealer’s stand;The man sped to his house at that command.

The dealer showed him forty maids of Rum,Each fit to grace a home and soothe its gloom.

He chose two rosy maids to call his own,Beneath whose skin lay gleaming ivory bone.

Each stood as tall and straight as cypress trees,And bore a charm that every eye could please.

One played the harp; one, tulip-cheeked, shone farIn beauty, like Yemen’s Canopus star.

Tall as a cypress, kamand-haired and fair;Old Monzer paid the price for both the pair.

Bahram laughed out and thanked him, full of cheer;His face, a Badakhshan gem, shone bright and clear.

He cared for polo and the hunt alone;No other work or pastime was his own.

It happened once, without attendant train,Bahram rode out to hunt across the plain.

The Roman harpist journeyed at his side;Azadeh, coral-cheeked, his joy and pride.

She was his comfort, his delight, his flame;His lips were never empty of her name.

A camel bore him when he sought the chase,With rich brocade upon its back in place.

Four stirrups hung, two down on either side;He crossed the hills and valleys far and wide.

Four jeweled stirrups graced the saddle’s fold,Two wrought of silver and two wrought of gold.

A pellet bow beneath his quiver lay;That brave youth knew each art that came his way.

Two pairs of deer appeared before his face;He smiled: “Azadeh, moon of shining grace,

When I have strung my bow before your sight,And set the bowstring in my thumbstall tight,

Which shall I shoot? The doe is young and fair;Her mate is old; choose one from that first pair.”

She said, “O lion-man, men do not showTheir warlike courage hunting deer with bow.

Make the doe male, the aged buck a doe;Then drive the camel swiftly as they go.

While deer are fleeing, let a pellet fly,And touch one creature’s ear as it runs by.

Its ear will fold, and to its shoulder cling;The itching touch will make it scratch the sting.

When it lifts up its hoof to scratch its head,Then pin head, hoof, and ear with one shaft sped.

If you can do this, then my tongue shall callYou luster of the world before them all.”

When Bahram heard the words the maiden spoke,Old sayings in his mind at once awoke.

Bahram Goor strung his bow; the plain’s reposeGave way to tumult as its clamor rose.

Within his quiver lay a forked steel blade,A hunting shaft with twin points widely splayed.

When those deer fled, he watched the old buck bearIts pointed antlers branching in the air.

He shot the horns away with that forked dart;Amazement filled the watching maiden’s heart.

The buck now seemed a doe; its head was shornOf all the dark horns it had lately borne.

At once the hunter loosed two shafts that spedTo strike the young doe’s hornless, tender head.

Two shafts stood where her horns would rise and spread;Her breast was ruby-bright with blood instead.

He wheeled his camel toward the other two,And set a pellet in his bow, and drew.

He struck one creature’s ear; the shot was good,And pleased the hunter, as such shooting should.

The creature scratched its ear; without delay,He set an arrow, ready for his prey.

His arrow pinned its head and hoof and ear;Azadeh’s heart was troubled for the deer.

He asked, “What do you think, O moon-faced dear?”Her eyes streamed tears, a river swift and clear.

She said, “No manly deed, no human art;A foul Div’s nature rules within your heart.”

Bahram reached out and flung her from her seat,And cast her headlong underneath his feet.

He drove the camel over her; its treadLeft breast and hands and harp with blood stained red.

He said, “You foolish harpist, why pursueMy failure in the task you bade me do?

Had all my strength been spent upon the strain,And had I failed, my race would bear the stain.”

He trampled her, and never as beforeTook any damsel hunting with him more.

Next week he hunted with a noble train,With hawk and cheetah ranging on the plain.

Beside a mountain stood a lion, bentUpon a Gur-e-Khar, whose back it rent.

He strung his dark bow, swift to strike the prey,And nocked a shaft, three-feathered, straight away.

His shaft joined lion’s back and quarry’s heart;The lion bled above, pierced by the dart.

Another week, Numan and Monzer rodeTo watch Bahram along the hunting road.

Monzer brought Arab men of noble name,As judges of his prowess and his fame.

Monzer desired that Bahram Goor displayHis strength and horsemanship to them that day.

Soon ostriches appeared across the plain,Each running like a camel free of rein.

When Bahram saw them, swift as wind he flew,Like gusts that through the open country blew.

He gripped his bow; four poplar arrows layWithin his belt, made ready for the prey.

He loosed them one by one across the plain,To bring those fleeing birds among the slain.

He pierced their plumes with such exacting art,Each shaft stood level with its counterpart.

Not one lay lower by a needle’s space,Nor rose above another by a trace.

When nobles went to scrutinize each shaft,They found no hair between them, such his craft.

Monzer called blessings down upon his head,And spear-armed warriors praised the shafts he sped.

Monzer said, “King, you fill my heart with cheer,Like rosebushes when blossoms first appear.

May fortune keep your moon forever bright,Nor let your belt of power lose its might.”

When Monzer reached his palace, in his eyesBahram stood high as Saturn in the skies.

Through Yemen, seeking painters, he sent men,And called the best to gather round him then.

He bade them paint on silk Bahram Goor’s skill,And how that single shot had struck to kill.

They showed his mighty frame and camel tall,And that great shot which held their gaze in thrall.

His chest and skillful hand, the bow for stone,Deer, lion, Gur-e-Khar; all these were shown.

The ostriches, the plain, the arrows’ flightIn pitch-black paint on silk were brought to light.

Monzer dispatched a rider to the king,To Yazdegard, that painted silk to bring.

The envoy reached the Shah; the gathered bandOf soldiers crowded round the work in hand.

The nobles marveled at the skill displayed,And blessed Bahram for all the shots he made.

Whenever he displayed his skill, reportWas carried by swift riders to the court.

The Shah longed to behold his princely son,Bahram, who shone like the sovereign sun.

That lion spoke to Monzer: “Though I stayedFor long a guest in your protecting shade,

Still longing for my father stirs my breast;It rouses me whenever I find rest.”

Monzer prepared whatever was required,With gifts from Yemen fit to be admired.

He sent Arabian steeds with golden gear,And costly treasures that a prince holds dear.

Striped cloth and Yemen falchions formed the store,With Adan’s gems and mines’ abundant ore.

Then Numan, favored in the Iranian court,Went with Bahram as escort and support.

They spoke of Shahs along the road they went,Until they reached Istakhr, their journey spent.

When word of their arrival reached the hall,The Shah gave ear and listened to it all.

The Mobadan and shrewd-hearted sages came,To greet the son of royal blood and name.

When from afar the Shah beheld Bahram,His grace, his limbs, his height, his bearing calm,

He stood amazed to see him trained and tall,So fair in form, accomplished before all.

He welcomed him and gave him quarters near,And asked him many questions, glad to hear.

He lodged Numan in chambers fit to please,And gave the prince a palace for his ease.

He gave him handmaids, slaves, and fitting state,With servants suited to his royal fate.

He served his father closely, hour by hour,And scarcely kept one moment in his power.

A month did Numan at the court remain,Then asked to take his leave and ride the plain.

By night he called him in; the royal seatHeld both men, face to face, their talk discreet.

He said, “Monzer has labored long and hard,And raised young Bahram under watchful guard.

I owe repayment for these faithful ties;Your honor is as Ormozd in my eyes.

I praise Monzer, whose counsel lights the way;He follows wisdom’s path through every day.

Yet while you linger here within my court,I know he scans the roads for your report.”

They gave him fifty thousand dinars, weighed,With robes of state in kingly silk brocade.

They brought ten famed steeds from the royal place,With gold and silver gear of fitting grace.

Slaves, carpets, scents, and colored stuffs they brought,With every kind of treasure skill had wrought.

Mehran produced them from the monarch’s store,And gave them all to Numan at the door.

The king bestowed his gifts with gladness shown,To each companion as his rank was known.

The Shah then wrote a letter, full and clear,To wise Monzer, whose counsel he held dear.

He thanked him for the care his son had found,And for the bond by which the two were bound.

“I shall endeavor to repay your care;I hold my head high for this son so rare.”

Bahram Goor wrote as well: “My lot is pain;This is not what I hoped within this reign.

I never thought the Shah would treat me so,Or let his servant’s hopes be brought so low.

I am no son or servant in this place,Nor glad dependent basking in his grace.”

He told Numan what long had lain concealed,The monarch’s evil customs now revealed.

When Numan left the Iranian court behind,He came to famed Monzer with troubled mind.

Then Monzer kissed the letter; on his headHe laid the words the king to him had said.

Rejoicing in the gifts the monarch sent,He added praise to praise in his content.

The envoy spoke to Monzer, none else near,At length, what burdened Bahram’s heart with fear.

A scribe then read the second letter through;Monzer’s face turned a bitter yellow hue.

He wrote at once an answer, grave and wise:“Famed prince, keep sound judgment before your eyes.

Do not turn from your father’s proper way;Obey the Shah by night and through the day.

Accept both good and ill your king may send;Be wise, and prove your service to the end.

Through patience, great men’s troubles pass aside;Men need broad wisdom as their guard and guide.

The circling sky controls our mortal fate;We cannot stand against its love or hate.

One heart it fills with love, another bearsIts gift of strife, a face of frowns and cares.

The World-Creator formed it by His skill;We must accept the measure of His will.

From now I shall send wealth to ease your mind,Dinars and royal gems of every kind.

Do not be troubled; your distress to meOutweighs all treasure heaped from land and sea.

Ten thousand bright dinars I send this day,An offering to help you on your way.

The handmaid who once served you as your guide,Your heart’s delight in private at your side,

I send to you, to make your spirit bright,And bring your darkened soul again to light.

When you have spent these coins, do not dependUpon the Shah for further wealth to spend.

For I shall send you many more, and bringAll kinds of goods from lands where I am king.

But serve the Shah and praise him with due care;Increase your service with a patient air.

You cannot part that temper from the throne,Not even in the thoughts that are your own.”

Ten loyal Arab riders took the road;Their shrewd and fluent speech good judgment showed.

With bags of coin and that devoted maid,They reached Bahram and brought the promised aid.

Wise Bahram’s grief no longer plagued his mind;His heart grew strong and left its care behind.

From then, as Monzer counseled, he did right,And failed no more in service day or night.

One day, Bahram served in the banquet hall,Attending to the courtiers’ every call.

When night came on, his limbs had lost their strengthFrom serving through the day’s exhausting length.

He closed his eyes, still standing in his pain;His heart grew weary of that ceaseless strain.

His father saw his eyes were closed and criedIn sudden anger, casting calm aside.

He told the headsman, “Take him from my sight;No cap or girdle shall be his by right.

Confine him here, then come to me tonight;No throne befits him, nor renown in fight.”

Within the palace, with a broken heart,He spent that year from his father kept apart.

At Nowruz and at Sadeh, in their place,He joined the nobles near the royal face.

It happened then Taynush from Rum drew near,As Caesar’s envoy, come before him here.

He brought from Caesar riches, slaves, and gold,The Roman tribute gathered as of old.

The king of kings received him with due grace,And lodged him in a richly furnished place.

Bahram dispatched a message to his hand:“O shrewd and potent man of Roman land,

The Shah has no true grievance with his slave,Yet guiltless I am banished like a knave.

Ask him, for your sake, to redress my wrong,That my dry fortune may grow fresh and strong.

Send me to those who reared me; Monzer’s careWas more than mother’s, more than father’s share.”

Taynush gave ear and won what Bahram sought,And hope to Bahram’s wounded heart was brought.

He was released from shameful bond and chain,And joy at last returned to ease his pain.

He gave the poor rich gifts before he went,And on departure all his thoughts were bent.

He called his followers and took the road;Like wind through night his marching army flowed.

He cried, “Praise God for our escape this hour,And safety from the Shah’s oppressive power.”

When he approached the king of Yemen’s land,Men, women, children formed a greeting band.

Numan came forth, and Monzer at their head,With loyal spearmen, riding where he led.

As Monzer neared, the light of day grew pale;The army’s dust spread out, a darkening veil.

Both chiefs dismounted there upon the plain;Bahram described his suffering and pain.

Monzer wept deeply at the prince’s tale:“What star has made the Shah’s good judgment fail?

He never walks the road that wisdom shows;I fear his deeds will bring him bitter woes.”

Bahram replied, “May he himself be gone,May no remembrance of his star live on.”

Monzer received him as an honored guest,And added further favors to the rest.

Bahram knew feast and saddle, gift and blade;On these alone his waking thoughts were laid.

The father in his palace passed the days,His son, glad on the plain, went his own ways.

Then Yazdegard’s own grief and joy drew nearTheir end; his star grew dark, his fate severe.

Now Yazdegard, in fear about his reign,Called Mobadan from all his wide domain.

He bade the readers of the stars look high,And each man scanned the courses of the sky.

He asked when death would end his royal might,And shroud his head and helmet from the light.

What would befall, and where would come the hourThat withered all his royal beauty’s flower?

The reader of the stars replied, “Instead,Let no such thought of death disturb his head.

But when his royal fortune falls away,The spring of Sav will draw him on his way.

Karnay and tabira will raise his bands,And gladly set his course toward Tus’s lands.

There he will die; his ears have never heardOf such a day in any spoken word.

Such knowledge brings no profit to the wise;God’s hidden secrets should escape our eyes.”

The Shah swore by Kharrad of high renown,By Barzin and the yellow sun’s bright crown:

“Whether I stand in anger or delight,The spring of Sav shall never meet my sight.”

Three months rolled by beneath the heavens’ reign;Then royal blood brought turmoil in its train.

One day his nostrils bled; from every townCame skilled physicians, healers of renown.

With drugs they checked the flow; a week passed clear,Then blood ran in the next week, tear on tear.

A wise Mobad then said to him, “O king,You turned from Providence in everything.

You said, ‘I will escape the hand of death,’But death is everywhere with living breath.

Your proper course is this: by Shahd proceed,In litter borne to Sav, and pray in need.

There bow before the holy Lord of all,And circle on that heated earth, and call.

Say, ‘I, Your feeble servant, in despair,Have set before my soul an oath’s own snare.

O righteous Judge, reveal how long I live;What span remains for You alone to give?’”

He found the counsel helpful in his pain,And ordered litters brought before his train.

Three hundred litters bore the royal load;The king set out toward Shahd along the road.

He traveled on, and constant was his grief;At times his nostrils bled, without relief.

He reached the spring of Sav; he stepped outsideHis litter, where he saw the waters glide.

He poured the water gently on his head,And called on God, by whom all good is spread.

His nostrils ceased to bleed; he ate and layAt rest with those who guided him that day.

“This was the cure,” he said. “Why longer stay?I had expected here a long delay.”

Again the flock’s great king, Yazdan ignored,Claimed as his own the good that God restored.

A white steed from the water to him came,Short-legged, round-rumped, a Gur-e-Khar in frame.

It came on tall and raging, lion-proud,Black-testicled and raven-eyed, and loud.

Its tail trailed at its feet; its mane rose high;Black-hoofed, it foamed, and could make lions die.

Then Yazdegard commanded all his band,“Surround this horse and bring it to my hand.”

The herdsman and ten horse-breakers drew near,With saddle, long coiled kamand, and their gear.

How could the Shah perceive the Maker’s plan,Who sent that dragon-steed before the man?

It foiled the herdsman and the mounted crew;The king grew furious at what met his view.

He took the saddle and the reins, and wentIn joy toward the steed, on taming bent.

The horse stood so submissive to his will,It never moved a foot, but held quite still.

The Shah put on the bridle; still it stayed,And stood at ease while he the saddle laid.

He drew the girths and bound the saddle fast;No tremor through that great nahang had passed.

He moved to fasten crupper at the rear;The flint-hoofed charger cried for all to hear.

It lashed both hind feet hard against his head;His head and crown struck dust; the Shah lay dead.

The dust received the body it had bred;What seek you from those seven skies instead?

You cannot flee the sky or turn its reign;To worship it is fruitless, blind, and vain.

Seek God, the refuge to whom all may fly,Lord of the sun and moon that wheel on high.

When Yazdegard was slain, the water-horseFlew like the dust and hastened to its source.

It vanished in the blue spring’s depths again;No man had seen such marvel among men.

The army’s cry, a tabira’s deep thrum:“O Shah, through fate to Tus you now have come!”

The chieftains tore their garments in despair,And flung dust on their heads and in their hair.

The Mobad opened up his head and breast,His belly too, preparing him for rest.

They packed his corpse with musk and camphor white,And bound it in brocade, wrapped firm and tight.

Bright silk was wrapped about the royal dead;They placed a crown of musk upon his head.

In golden coffin, on a litter borneOf teak, he came to Pars for men to mourn.

Such is the law of this inconstant sphere:One man rejoices; one sheds sorrow’s tear.

Upon this dark earth, even in repose,Beware the harm that heaven may impose.

Though you are meek, the world will not be tamed;So eat, then drain the cup your hand has claimed.

Faith offers better shelter than does sinTo one with power to choose the path within.

When that world-ruling monarch had been laidWithin the grave, Iran’s chiefs came dismayed.

The governors and Pahlevans came too,With Mobadan, prudent counselors and true.

They gathered all in Pars, a mourning wave,And stood together by the monarch’s grave.

Gostaham, who slew elephants astrideHis horse, and Gharan, Gashasp’s son, beside.

With Milad, Arash, marzban, came one more:Gurzban’s Pirooz, who unhorsed foes in war.

The other chiefs of Iran, high of birth,Came too, great leaders, men of proven worth.

All those whom Yazdegard had cast in shameNow gathered in the city, men of name.

Gashasp the scribe, whose eloquence was famed,Addressed the gathered lords, and thus exclaimed:

“You nobles gathered here, since God first madeThe world, no king like this has cast his shade.

He dealt out death and scorn in bitter measure,From lesser men withheld advice and treasure.

No man had seen so foul a king before,Nor heard of one in ancient heroes’ lore.

No more shall one of this same race be king;To God against his dust our cries we bring.

Illustrious Bahram is his son and seed,In heart and mind and counsel, of his breed.

His speech is all of Monzer, nothing more;We will not crown a tyrant as before.”

Then all Iran’s great chiefs together swore:“No king from this same race will we restore.

No man of Yazdegard’s own blood shall takeThe crown and throne, for Iran’s future sake.”

When this was done, they rose to choose a king,One worthy of the crown and royal ring.

Then news of Yazdegard’s grim death spread wide,Among the chiefs on every distant side.

The Alan king, the army’s champion bold,Biward, Ishkapan with his crown of gold,

Each cried, “The sovereignty is mine by right,From earth to Pisces in its starry height.”

The world was filled with tumult, grief, and sound,For crown and throne no ruling head had found.

Then chiefs, Mobadan, Pahlevans, and allWhose clear minds answered to the council’s call,

Met there in Pars and weighed the realm’s distress,And spoke at length of ways to bring redress.

“Who now is worthy of the royal throne?Consider who can make this task his own.

Seek one both just and generous, to wearThe royal belt upon that golden chair,

Who can allay the woes the years have piled;A kingless world is pasture, running wild.”

There lived an aged man whose heart was light,Khosrow by name, both generous and bright.

Of noble race, with riches at command,Among the wealthy men in all the land.

The nobles gave him crown and royal state,And troops from every side approached his gate.

Then Bahram Goor was told how heaven’s frownHad turned to bitterness the royal crown.

“Your noble father, king among the great,Has died and borne away the royal state.

The army swore, ‘No king of that same strainShall sit upon the throne of kings or reign.

His son is like him; from his father’s seedCame skin and marrow of that very breed.’

They set a man upon the throne, and soThey hailed him king and named him Khosrow.”

When Bahram heard, he tore his cheeks in grief;His father’s death had left him no relief.

For two full weeks from Yemen rose the criesOf child and man and woman to the skies.

A month he mourned in sorrow and despair;At the new month, he decked the royal chair.

Then Numan drew beside him; Monzer came,With Yemen’s Arabs, every rank and name.

They wept beside their Shah, their hearts aflame;Though fire was absent, grief burned all the same.

At last they loosed their tongues and spoke their mind:“O virtuous prince, most noble of your kind,

Our end is dust; no nush-daru can stayOur destined end or keep the grave away.

All born of mothers die; to us, the plightOf birth is wrong, and death alone is right.”

To Monzer Bahram spoke in his dismay:“Now darkness clouds the fortune of our day.

Though fierce and merciless, the king who diedHad loved this whole broad country far and wide.

If my own race should lose the royal name,Its royal glory too will lose its flame.

They will raise dust from all this horsemen’s plainAnd leave the Arabs pits for their domain.

Consider well, assist me in this need,And mourn my father’s death in thought and deed.”

Monzer heard Bahram’s words and made his stand;With manly speech, he answered his demand.

He said, “This is my day upon the plain;My day to hunt across this broad domain.

Sit on the throne and watch; the crown is yours,With royal bracelet, while your reign endures.”

The chiefs approved what Monzer had advised,And all agreed upon the course devised.

They left his presence, ready to invade,And all prepared to launch their mounted raid.

Monzer gave Numan orders: “Ride and go,And gather lions brave against the foe.

From Shiban and the Ghassanians, raiseTen thousand men well schooled in battle’s ways.

Iran shall see who holds the royal right,With name and wealth and troops arrayed for fight.”

Numan assembled men with spear and blade,A mighty army, ready for the raid.

He bade them raid and trample through the land,While terror spread before their armed command.

Toward Tisfoon the salt flats shook with sound,Beneath the pounding hooves that struck the ground.

The women and the children captive fell;No helper came to ease their living hell.

The world was filled with harrying and flame,For now the throne held power only in name.

News went to Rum and Chin, to Turkistan,To Hind and to Makran from troubled Iran.

“The throne of Iran stands without a king;No worthy man can bear the royal ring.”

They all prepared to raid and seize their prize,For plunder and injustice bade them rise.

Each stretched a hand to seize Iran’s domain,And rose to claim its kingship for his reign.

The Iranians heard the news and sought relief,And hurried to devise an end to grief.

Worn out by suffering, to find redress,They met in council over their distress.

“Their deeds have passed all bounds throughout our land;The men of Rum and Hind, the desert band.

We must devise some means to end this woe,And free our hearts from grief that lays them low.”

They chose a noble envoy, shrewd and clear,A fluent warrior whom courts would hear.

His name was Javanuy, a scribe of fame,High-born and honored, worthy of acclaim.

They sent him forth to Monzer to conveyTheir words, and hear what he in turn would say:

“O noble lord, may all the world sing praiseOf your great name, and bless you all your days.

You are the stay of warriors everywhere;Iran and foreign lands are in your care.

The throne lacked crown and king; the frontier boreThe francolin’s rich plumage, dyed in gore.

We thought you fit to rule and guard this land,Whose worth we saw upheld by your own hand.

But now you raid us, shedding blood for spoil,And spread contention through our fields and soil.

You once shunned evil, fearing blame and shame,And dreaded curses falling on your name.

Consider: do these deeds seem good and wise?In old age, do they bring you any prize?

Another Judge reigns far above your station,Beyond the furthest bounds of contemplation.

This envoy will report what he has seen,And what he heard from men whose judgment’s keen.”

Wise Javanuy departed from the trainOf chiefs, and journeyed to the spearmen’s plain.

He gave the letter, spoke before the chief,Recalled Iran’s complaints and told their grief.

The Arab chief heard out the whole complaint,And held his answer back with calm restraint.

“O wise one, seeking justice, state your caseBefore the Shah, and meet him face to face.

Before him speak as you have spoken here;To win an answer, make your grievance clear.”

He sent a noble as the envoy’s guide;To Bahram’s court they journeyed side by side.

When that wise envoy stood before the king,He prayed that God would bless his crown and ring.

His height and stature, neck and shoulders broughtSuch wonder that the sage stood lost in thought.

One would have said wine flowed from Bahram’s face,And musk from his dark hair perfumed the place.

That fluent man grew speechless, dazed in mind,And left the message he had borne behind.

Bahram Goor saw the wonder in his eyes,And knew his royal splendor caused surprise.

He greeted him with kindness, showed him grace,And on the royal seat gave him a place.

Once he felt free to speak, the Shah inquired:“Why come from Iran, travel-worn and tired?

Hereafter you shall have, for all your pain,Relief and heaps of treasure as your gain.”

The envoy spoke and gave the letter, thenRecalled the words entrusted by those men.

The Shah sent him to Monzer with a guide,A sage to bear these words back at his side:

“Write him an answer,” Bahram said, “with art,And use fair words to ease the envoy’s heart.

Ask if he bears a verbal message too;Hear all he says, and answer what is due.”

Then Javanuy returned and spoke; the lightOf joy made Monzer’s face grow warm and bright.

When he had heard the words the envoy said,He framed the answer to the note he read.

“O man of wisdom, hear what I reply:All who do evil suffer pain thereby.

I heard your message and the nobles’ greeting;Now take my answer back from this our meeting.

Say this: ‘Who first brought evil to the fore,Who chose this senseless feud, and opened war?

King Bahram Goor is here, with royal grace,His lofty stature and his troops in place.

Who draws a serpent from its hole will treadWith trailing skirts by his own blood dyed red.

Had I been counselor, Iran would knowNo such affliction, injury, or woe.’”

Javanuy saw the king; his words made plainThe mind of him who sought Iran’s domain.

For throne and greatness, fortune and success,He weighed his words, his bearing, and address.

On hearing Monzer, Javanuy took holdOf one clear thought, and spoke with purpose bold:

“Great lord, who needs no other man’s advice,Whose wisdom can without such aid suffice,

If Iran’s judgment failed, its nobles bled;And many of its noblemen lie dead.

I am an old man, seeking honor still;Now let me speak, and hear me if you will.

With joy we ought to yield our native landTo you and brave Bahram with willing hand.

With hawk and cheetah make a royal round;Ride as a king upon Iran’s own ground.

Hear what the Iranians have to say;No harm need come from traveling this way.

Speak what is fitting, let your wisdom rule,And keep your distance from the witless fool.

Keep far from evil conduct, and from shame;Turn from reproach and all that brings you blame.”

Then Monzer heard and gave him gifts to bear,And sent him from the city free of care.

Monzer, Bahram Goor, and counselors all met,In private council where their course was set.

He chose from Arab ranks a fighting corpsOf thirty thousand spearmen trained for war.

He gave them dinars, wealth for all to share,And filled the chieftains’ heads with pride’s hot air.

When news of this had spread through Iran’s land,And Javanuy rejoined the warrior band,

The potentates, all sunk in deep concern,Went to Barzin’s fire-temple in their turn.

They prayed to God that battle’s threat might cease,And turn to feasts and happiness in peace.

Near Jahram, Monzer led his ranks to standUpon the waterless expanse of land.

Bahram Goor raised his royal tent; the groundWas filled with troops that gathered all around.

He said, “O counselor, you have come hereFrom Yemen to Jahram; our troops stand near.

Now army faces army on this plain;Shall we choose battle, or let parley reign?”

Monzer replied, “Invite the chiefs to dine;When they arrive, set out the food and wine.

Speak, hear their words; and if their tempers rise,Do not let anger kindle in your eyes.

Then we shall learn what thoughts their hearts proclaim,And whom they wish to give the royal name.

When that is known, we shall decide our course,And shun all strife if gentle words have force.

But if they turn to hatred, war, and spite,And show a leopard’s fury in the fight,

I shall make Jahram a sea; the sun’s blazeWill shrink to match the Pleiades’ faint rays.

I think, when folk behold your form and grace,Your stature, kindness, and your royal face,

Your wisdom, patience, counsel, and command,Your knowledge, learning, dignity so grand,

They will want none but you to claim the throne,The crown and fortune’s beauty yours to own.

But if they lose their way and seek to claimYour throne, denying you the royal name,

I and these horsemen, with our swords, will bringA day of doom to shake the world, O king.

You shall behold my frown amid the strife;For you I offer body and my life.

When they observe my countless troops in line,Their ordered ranks and every warlike sign,

And know our work is bloodshed, and our mightHas God the Just as ally in the fight,

They will elect no other, only you;The crown and throne are yours, as is your due.”

The Shah heard Monzer’s words and smiled; delightSwelled in his heart and made his spirits bright.

When sunlight climbed above the mountain height,Iran’s great men set forth in morning light.

They made their way to meet Bahram that day;A learned council formed in full array.

An ivory throne was set for him to mount;He wore a crown whose jewels none could count.

He set his court as kings of kings would do,And took his royal seat before their view.

Monzer and Numan flanked him, and a bladeWas held by Numan, naked and displayed.

Around the tent stood Arab chiefs of rank,Encircling its enclosure, flank by flank.

Then Iran’s loyal nobles, grave and grand,Drew near its entrance in a noble band.

He bade them raise the curtain, and the callAnnounced their entry, welcoming them all.

They came to Bahram, where the crown and throneIn all their beauty to the chiefs were shown.

They cried, “Live long! May evil’s hand remainFar off, and never bring you harm or pain.”

The king of kings received them with good cheer,And set each in the rank his worth made clear.

Bahram said, “Princes, chiefs of ripened age,Whose long experience has made you sage,

The kingship passed from sire to sire is mine;Why is its fate for you now to define?”

The Iranians cried, “Do not make us bearThe harm such kings inflict, the grief and care.

We will not have you rule; we own the land,Although the troops are yours at your command.

Your race has brought us anguish, toil, and woe;Our cold sighs never cease to rise and flow.”

Bahram replied, “Desire commands the breast;Each heart pursues the course that suits it best.

Why seek another king, with me denied,And cast my wishes wholly to one side?”

A Mobad said, “From justice none may stray;Both prince and subject must its rule obey.

Join us, and choose a Shah whom all will bless,A king to heal the realm from its distress.”

Three days they labored, seeking to decideWho should be king, with all Iran to guide.

They listed noble names, a hundred strong,To whom the crown and throne might well belong.

Bahram Goor’s name was written with the rest;He was a king whose charm each heart confessed.

With caution they reviewed each noble name,And fifty passed the test of rank and fame.

Whether his father’s path he kept or spurned,First of the fifty, Bahram’s name returned.

From fifty names they then wrote thirty down,Iran’s choice men of honor and renown.

Among the thirty, Bahram stood ahead,A youthful Shah, the crown upon his head.

The wise Mobadan narrowed these to four,And Bahram still stood foremost as before.

But when decisive judgment drew in sight,Iran’s elders then turned from Bahram’s right.

They said, “We will not have him on the throne;Too rash and headstrong has this young man grown.”

An outcry rose; the chiefs grew dark in heart,And grief and anger would not soon depart.

Then Monzer said, “For good or ill, I seekTo understand the grief of which you speak.

Why grieve at him? This king is young in years;No weight of age upon his frame appears.”

The chiefs then summoned men whose bodies boreThe wounds of Yazdegard’s harsh rule before.

They gathered those whom Yazdegard had scarred,And brought them forward for the chiefs’ regard.

One lived with hands and feet cut from his frame;His trunk remained; life lingered there the same.

Another had lost ears and hands and tongue,And seemed a lifeless shape among them flung.

Another had lost shoulders; Numan stared,Astonished at the wounds those men had shared.

One man had nails gouge out his eyes; the sightMade Monzer’s anger flare and burn outright.

Bahram grew grieved and cursed his father’s name,And to his dust addressed these words of blame:

“You sewed joy’s eyes shut, wretch, and quenched desire;Why did you burn your soul in raging fire?”

Then Monzer said, “These wrongs must not be sealed;The harm they suffered must not be concealed.

You heard the charges; answer what they bring,For harshness is not fitting in a king.”

Bahram replied, “Chiefs, veterans of the land,Whose eyes have seen and hands have held command,

You speak the truth; worse evils still remain.Well may I blame my father’s cruel reign.

I too received a sample of that pain;It cast a darkness over heart and brain.

His palace was my prison, barred and grim;Then God showed mercy; I found help in Him.

Then Taynush freed me from my father’s rule;His hook had torn my mouth; he was that cruel.

I sought in Monzer’s hand a refuge, sinceThe Shah had shown no kindness to his prince.

May no man have that temper as his own;Where it prevails, humanity has flown.

But I, thank God, have wisdom in my soul;Its fruit sustains me and preserves me whole.

I pray to Him to guide me toward the right,And lead me on the path of goodness’ light.

For every injury my father dealt,I seek to purge the guilt my heart has felt.

I am the shepherd; subjects are my sheep;Their ease and justice are for me to keep.

I live to bring my subjects joy and rest,And worship God in ways that He finds best.

I have discretion, character, and thought,Unjust kings lack the virtue I have sought.

From helplessness come baseness and deceit;Weep for the unjust king upon his seat.

From sire to sire, the kingship is my due;With wisdom, I wish well to all of you.

From Shapur, Bahram, back to Ardeshir,My royal forebears, one by one, appear.

From sire to sire, my forebears lead the way;Their faith and wisdom guide me to this day.

Through King Samiran, too, my mother’s lineIs royal; wisdom is a friend of mine.

With wisdom, virtue, greatness, I commandThe horseman’s art, a brave heart, strength of hand.

I know no man who stands above my worthIn war or feast or any deed on earth.

I hold a secret treasury well stored,And famous men stand loyal to their lord.

My justice shall make all the realm increase,And every subject shall abide in peace.

Moreover, I will make a pact with you,And pledge my tongue to God, whose word is true.

Bring out the ivory throne of high renown,And set above its seat the shining crown.

Bring two fierce lions from their forest lair,And place the crown between that savage pair.

Chain one on each side; let him who would reignApproach between the two, the crown to gain.

Then let him take the crown from ivory’s height,And set it on his head by royal right.

Between the lions let him face his fate,Crown on his head, the throne beneath his weight.

We shall seek no one else, if he is justAnd pious, worthy of a people’s trust.

But if you all reject what I have said,Choose me a rival champion instead.

Where I lead on, the spears your horsemen wieldAre only thorns and brushwood in the field.

Monzer and I, with gorz and sharpened steel,Have Arab chiefs who never turn a heel.

We shall raise dust from your enthroned king soon,And scatter heads from crowns beneath your moon.

Now answer what I said; let judgment weighThis case, and guide you on a prosperous way.”

He spoke, then rose and entered his own tent;All marveled at the challenge he had sent.

The chiefs, Mobadan, and Iranian crowdWho heard the wise Shah’s speech exclaimed aloud:

“This is God’s farr, not folly or deceit;No crooked purpose guides his words or feet.

He speaks no word but justice; we are rightTo let such justice fill us with delight.

Consider what he said: the lions’ glare,The royal crown and throne between the pair.

If savage lions rend him where he stands,No judge will ask his blood from out our hands.

He made this plan himself; his will was plain,Yet we shall not rejoice if he is slain.

But if he takes the crown and wins acclaim,His farr will pass beyond Fereydoon’s fame.

No other man shall bear the royal name;We answer justly; that concludes our claim.”

That night passed on; at dawn the Shah arose,And took his seat as darkness reached its close.

He summoned Iran’s chiefs and had them stay,Then spoke at length of all the previous day.

The Mobadan cried, “O Shah, supremely wise,Above the sages does your wisdom rise.

What course in kingship will you then pursue,When sovereign height and power fall to you?

How will you deal with justice and with right,So fraud and falsehood vanish out of sight?”

He answered sages, warriors, chiefs of name,The men of noble deeds and honored fame:

“My gifts shall far exceed the words I say;Oppression and harsh searches shall give way.

To those whom fitness marks to hold command,I will assign their portions of the land.

By counsel shall I rule, and justice clear;Let all, secure in justice, find good cheer.

I shall share hoarded wealth with those in need,And give the poor the means on which to feed.

I first shall counsel him who does a wrong;If he repeats it, fetters bind him strong.

I shall pay soldiers promptly, full and fair,And free the sages’ hearts from fear and care.

My heart and tongue shall both be true and plain;My soul shall turn from darkness and its stain.

If one dies rich and leaves no kindred near,With wealth beyond all measure gathered here,

The poor shall have that wealth; I heap no gold,Nor let this passing house my heart enfold.

I shall seek counsel from those skill has taught,And break desire’s back through prudent thought.

I shall ask ministers when plans arise,And never scorn the counsel of the wise.

When someone seeks my justice, I shall stay,And will not send the gathered men away.

I shall give every seeker what is due,And speak a righteous judgment firm and true.

I shall chastise all evil, as kings should,And meet each wrong as royal justice would.

All-holy God bears witness over me;Upon my tongue, let wisdom’s guidance be.”

The high Mobad and elders, tried and wise,Then answered him before the nation’s eyes:

“We are your slaves and bow the head to you,To your command and will in all we do.”

Then Shah Bahram declared, “You sages, heed,In whom the realm finds counsel in its need,

If in one year my soul and wisdom fail,And these my promises become a tale,

I will renounce the crown and royal place,And sit among the luckless in disgrace.”

The sages heard his answer, every word,And the wakeful Mobadan likewise heard.

They rued their former words and sought to mendTheir fault, and bring the matter to an end.

They cried to one another, “Who could claimMore right than he to bear the royal name?

In manliness, in speech, in birth, and mind,No purer prince on earth can any find.

God fashioned him from justice; may his wayBe free of harm, and evil kept at bay.

All good will come from him; our lives will gainBoth food and justice under his domain.

If now we twist the words that we have heard,We lull our wisdom with each twisted word.

His neck and arms are peerless in their might;No man can match his stature or his height.

If he assumes his own ancestral throne,Who can surpass the greatness he has shown?

What cause has he to fear our hostile band?Before his might, we are but dust and sand.”

They said, “O favored prince, your claim is best;In you the marks of kingship find their rest.

Yet none had known your wisdom and your worth,Or purity, now shown to all the earth.

To Khosrow, sprung from Pashin’s ancient line,We gave the kingship and its royal sign.

We swore to share the danger at his side,And face whatever fortune might provide.

But should he govern Iran, war will spread,And leave our marches desolate and dead.

One party holds Bahram in high acclaim;The other still remembers Khosrow’s name.

Your plan is right; when judgment ends the fray,The world will hear your word and will obey.

The lions’ trial will make the title clear;No claimant afterward will interfere.”

Bahram agreed; he first proposed the test,And now assented to the chiefs’ request.

Such was the custom generous kings obeyedWhen a new Shah of royal birth was made:

The high Mobad would come before him then,And bring three sages, wise, discerning men.

He seated him upon the royal throne,And blessed the seat the king would call his own.

He brought the golden crown, a gleaming thing,The source of pomp and glory for a king.

He set the Kayan crown, then gladly pressedHis own two cheeks against the monarch’s breast.

All gifts presented at the royal seatThe Shah bestowed on those who would entreat.

They gave the Mobad crown and throne to keep;Bahram left town and crossed the plain’s broad sweep.

Brave Gostaham had two fierce lions chained;He gave them to the Mobad, thus restrained.

They dragged the fighting lions, wild and grim;With fear the handlers’ senses all grew dim.

At the throne’s feet they chained the lions down;Upon its ivory corner lay the crown.

All eyes were fixed on crown and ivory chair,To see how Bahram in the test would fare.

Bahram Goor and Khosrow crossed the plain,And faced the lions, hearts weighed down with pain.

When Khosrow saw the crown between the beasts,He turned to speak before the gathered priests:

“Who seeks the sovereignty should first advance;Let him be first to face this royal chance.

He is still young, while I am old and weak,Too frail to face the death those lions seek.

Let him employ his youth and vigor first,And prove the claim for which his heart has thirst.”

Bahram replied, “Your answer pleases well;No just proposal would I now repel.”

He took an ox-head gorz into his hand,While wonder spread through all the watching land.

A Mobad said, “O king of wisdom, brightWith knowledge, walking in the path of right,

Who bids you fight these lions? What rewardBeyond the crown can such a fight afford?

Do not give up your life for kingship’s sake,Or feed the fish through such a vain mistake.

No blame is ours; this venture is your own;The world’s whole heart inclines toward your throne.”

Bahram replied, “O guardian of the creed,You and the rest are blameless in this deed.

I am the man to face these lions’ might;To battle with the brave is my delight.”

The Mobad said, “Before you face that test,Seek God in prayer, and cleanse your sinful breast.”

He did as told, repenting of his sin,And cleansed his heart of all the stains within.

Then came the wise Shah, resolute of face,With ox-head gorz in hand, and took his place.

When those fierce lions saw the hero near,One snapped its chain and charged without a fear.

The king struck hard upon the lion’s head,And dimmed its eyes and left the creature dead.

He struck the second lion’s skull; it bled;From eyes to breast its blood ran dark and red.

He sat upon the ivory seat and pressedThe heart-delighting crown upon his crest.

Then Khosrow came before him, bowed his head,And to the king these words of blessing said:

“Blessed be your reign upon the royal seat;May every hero bow before your feet.

You are the Shah; we are your slaves today,And shall advance your purpose every way.

In God, the Refuge, let us seek our stay,Who guides all those who from the path would stray.”

The mighty men showered jewels on his crown,While blessings from the gathered world poured down.

In Azar, on Soroush’s day, the cheerRose from the world and rang to heaven’s sphere.

A cloud has risen and obscured the moon;From its black heart the falling snow is strewn.

No stream, no plain, no upland meets my eye;The raven’s plumes are swallowed by the sky.

No firewood, salted meat, nor barley storeRemains till barley harvest brings us more.

Amid this gloom and dread of tax, the snowMakes earth an ivory mountain here below.

My whole estate can scarcely longer stand,Unless some faithful friend should grasp my hand.

Now hear the strangest tale I can convey;No greater wonder could my words portray.