Book E11The Epilogue

When sixty-five full years had passed me by,My thought and toil and pain rose ever high.

I yearned to tell the history of kings;My star was slow to grant what Fortune brings.

Well-read Iranians, men of high degree,Took copies of my work, but paid no fee.

Those mighty men of old, renowned in name,Within this book I gave a lasting fame.

I watched from far, as though I served their will,A hired man who waited on them still.

Only their praises came to be my part,And while they praised, I bore a broken heart.

Their money bags remained securely tied,And hope within my restless heart had died.

Among the nobles, Ali the DilamiteHad earned his share, that man of spirit bright.

He kept my work progressing toward its goal,That man of wisdom and enlightened soul.

Abu Nasr Warraq, through this book of mine,Gained much from nobles of distinguished line.

Husain Kutib, a noble, gave reward;He sought no verse for nothing from my hoard.

He furnished food and clothes and silver bright,And gold; he gave me feet and wings for flight.

No tax or levy troubled me by day;Beneath my quilt at ease I safely lay.

Were not the ruler’s hand so tightly bound,Upon a throne my place would then be found.

When seventy-one full years had passed me by,Beneath my verse I brought the vaulted sky.

For thirty-five long years, in hope of gold,I toiled within this transient earthly hold.

Those thirty-five long years of toil were vain;The wind bore all away; I had no gain.

My hopes had vanished with the years gone by;Now nearly eighty, worn with age, am I.

In Sapandarmad, on the day of Ard,I seal the book and tale of Yazdegard.

In year four hundred since Mohammad’s Flight,These final words of this great book I write.

May Mahmud’s throne in lasting glory grow,His life stay green, his heart with gladness glow.

His judgment, knowledge, lineage shine as one:The lamp of Ajam, and the Arabs’ sun.

I praised him so his praise would ever stay,Through all the world, in plain and veiled display.

Much praise from great men came into my store;And praise of him increases evermore.

May that wise monarch flourish day by day,And may his wishes find a prosperous way.

I leave this book to him, his name to bear;Its sixty thousand couplets I declare.

A lofty hall of verse I raised so high,No wind or rain can harm it from the sky.

I shall not die; alive in words I stand,For seeds of speech I scattered through the land.

All prudent men of counsel, faith, and nameWill praise me when I leave this mortal frame.

A thousand blessings, praises without end,To Mustafa from us may now ascend.

Upon his household, too, let blessings shine;For Faith, invoke those blessings, line by line.

The Shahnameh of Ferdowsi is ended.