Book E3Bozorgmehr’s Fall and Restoration

Mark now the fate of Bozorgmehr the seer,The Shah who raised him brought his downfall near.

Anooshirvan, the mighty king of kings,Rode out from Madain like a hawk on wings.

Through wilderness he chased the mountain sheep,And startled deer across the hollows deep.

Across the grass the huntsmen scattered wide,Till only Bozorgmehr stayed by his side.

Across the fields the monarch found a glade,With trees and flowers and water in its shade.

The weary Shah dismounted from his steed,And let his eyes take solace from the mead.

The king lay down awhile upon the ground,While all the meadow kept a peaceful sound.

He set his head with trust and royal easeUpon Bozorgmehr’s lap beneath the trees.

That wise king wore an armlet, rich and bright,That flashed around his arm with jeweled light.

By chance, its clasp broke loose beside his bed;The armlet fell beside his resting head.

A sable raven swooped down from the sky,And marked the armlet with a greedy eye;

Three royal pearls the glittering band possessed;The raven snatched the jewels to its chest.

It gulped the lustrous pearls into its bill,Then soared away across the wooded hill.

At that strange sign, Bozorgmehr stood aghast,And read the sky’s dark motion racing fast.

He knew his fall and coming days of pain;His bitter season now began its reign.

The Shah awoke and saw him bite his lip,While dread held all the sage within its grip.

He scanned his arm and saw the jewels flown,Then looked for those whose faces he had known.

No man of all his escort could be seen;The meadow stretched around him bare and green.

He judged that Bozorgmehr, while sleep had reigned,Had swallowed all the scattered gems he gained.

“Can wisdom hide such baseness from the light,And keep your greedy nature out of sight?

I am not Ormozd, privy to your game;My frame is earth and wind and burning flame.”

The Shah spent many words, and each one stung;No answer came; the sage had held his tongue.

The sage gave nothing but a cold, deep sigh,And bowed before the turning wheel of sky.

He saw at once the omen of disgrace,And terror sealed the wisdom in his face.

In wrath the king remounted on his steed,And rode back to the palace at full speed.

At court he bit his lips in mounting rage,And gave his orders to confine the sage.

He bade them strike the sage’s face with blows,As hammers fall where hardened iron glows.

They made the palace prison for the man,And held him there beneath the monarch’s ban.

There he remained and watched a frowning sky,With fortune’s hostile shadow drawing by.

The sage had one young kinsman, bold and brave,Who served the Shah with skill, a courtly slave.

He came and went at any hour, at will,And spoke before the Shah with freedom still.

One day the sage addressed that youthful man:“How do you serve the Shah? Tell all you can.

Describe your service plainly, act by act,So you may serve with better grace and tact.”

“Chief of the Mobadan,” he answered then,“This very day I feared the king of men.

He looked at me in such a piercing way,I thought that food and sleep had fled that day.

Before the meal, I brought the water near,And poured upon his hands in anxious fear.

But when he left the meal, I lost commandOf how to pour the water on his hand.

His anger held my frightened heart in thrall,And from my hand I let the basin fall.”

The sage replied, “Rise now and bring me hereWarm water, with a basin clean and clear.”

He poured warm water on the sage’s hands,To learn the service that the Shah demands.

The sage said, “Let the water gently flow;Be calm, and keep your movements soft and slow.

When with sweet-scented clay his hands are graced,Pour on with gentle flow, devoid of haste.”

The servant kept the sage’s words in mind,And served the Shah as Bozorgmehr designed.

He brought the basin to the king again,And poured with grace before the royal men.

“May love increase,” the king began to say,“Who taught you how to serve me in this way?”

He answered, “Bozorgmehr has taught the same,And showed the mode that fits your royal name.”

The Shah replied, “Go, charge him, and inquire:‘With all the rank and wisdom men admire,

Why choose the worse and turn away from right,And stain your noble conduct in my sight?’”

The servant hurried where the sage was kept,And gave the Shah’s harsh message while he wept.

The sage replied, “Though prison is my fate,My present lot is better than his state.”

The servant brought that answer, word by word;The monarch’s wrath grew sharper when he heard.

He had the sage bound in a dungeon’s gloom,And sealed him in that harsh and narrow room.

Again he asked, “How does that madman bearHis prisoned lot, his darkness, and despair?”

The sage replied, still steadfast in his chain,“My days pass more at ease than does his reign.”

The Shah burned like a leopard in his rage;His fury grew more savage toward the sage.

He bade them forge an oven, narrow, small,Of iron, with no room to stretch at all.

Within, sharp spikes and nails stood all around;An iron lid above him held him bound.

There Bozorgmehr could neither rest by day,Nor sleep by night while iron barred his way.

A third time Anooshirvan sent his word:“Ask how he fares, and bring me what is heard.

Say, ‘How are you, ringed by spikes and nails,While every point your suffering assails?’”

The sage received the message without dread,“My days are better than the Shah’s,” he said.

The Shah’s face darkened at the stubborn sound,And livid anger through his features wound.

He chose a truthful man of searching mind,To hear the sage and judge what lay behind.

Beside him walked a swordsman trained to kill,The headsman sworn to do the royal will.

“Go say, ‘Explain yourself, or you shall die;This swordsman waits to hear your last reply.

You praised the prison, cage, and piercing chain,Above the Shah’s own throne and royal reign.’”

The envoy hastened to the sage’s cell,And all the Shah had spoken he would tell.

The sage replied, “No fortune holds one course;No mortal stands beyond its changing force.

All good and evil reach their destined end;The proud and broken to the grave descend.

Enthroned and rich, or grievously oppressed,All leave the world and enter final rest.

To pass from prison is an easy thing;The fear belongs to those who wear the ring.”

The witness and the swordsman went their way,And told the Shah the answer, plain as day.

A fear of evil fortune pierced his breast;His anger failed, his troubled heart found rest.

He ordered them to free the learned sage,And bring him from his narrow iron cage.

So heaven turned awhile with matters so,While age began to mark him blow by blow.

Deep furrows marked the weary sage’s face;His suffering had left its bitter trace;

Within that sunless dungeon, locked and confined,The light deserted him, and he went blind.

He withered under sorrow’s secret blight,And pined beneath care’s long-consuming night.

In those days Caesar sent a man to bringBoth gifts and Caesar’s letter to the king.

Among the gifts he bore a casket sealed,Locked fast, its hidden contents still concealed.

He said, “O king whose warriors win renown,With many holy sages round your crown,

You lack no holy sage or searching mind;Let them declare what lies in it confined.

Let no one touch the padlock or the seal;Let wisdom name the thing the locks conceal.

If they speak rightly and the truth is known,We will send yearly tribute to your throne.

But if your keen Mobadan fail this test,And cannot name what lies within the chest,

Then ask no tribute from the Roman land,Nor send an army with invading hand.

Such is the message Caesar gave to me;Now answer as your judgment shall decree.”

The Shah replied with measured royal grace:“This hidden matter rests in God’s embrace.

By sacred farr, I hope to solve the test,With learned men to aid me in the quest.

Remain a week; take wine and dwell at peace;Let gladness in your heart and soul increase.”

Yet in the Shah’s own heart the matter burned;His troubled mind through many counsels turned.

He summoned all the great men and the wise,And bade them search the casket with their eyes.

They studied every surface, lock, and cord,And sought the hidden answer for their lord.

The Mobadan gathered, each with practiced art,But none could read the secret at its heart.

When all that council brought the Shah no gain,The heart of Anooshirvan was filled with pain.

He said, “Bozorgmehr’s intellect aloneCan search this secret out, to us unknown.

His mind can read the secrets of the sky,And bring to light what other minds pass by.”

He chose fresh robes, a horse of noble breed,A golden saddle fitted to the steed.

He sent them to the sage and had them say:“Forget the wounds that marked your bitter day.

High heaven so ordained above our headThat pain from us along your path was spread.

Your tongue provoked our anger in that hour;You were the author of your fallen power.

Now I am faced with work that grants no rest;The elders’ wisdom cannot meet the test.

For Caesar sent a priest from Roman lands,Renowned for subtle arts and skillful hands.

He brought a casket sealed on every side,With lock and musk its hidden core to hide.

The envoy says, ‘My lord commands this test:Declare the hidden contents of the chest.

Let all the sages and the princes sayWhat lies inside, and speak without delay.’

I thought, ‘No soul this mystery can clearUnless the mind of Bozorgmehr draw near.’”

When Bozorgmehr had heard the monarch’s word,Old pain within his wounded spirit stirred.

He left the prison, washed his head and frame,And prayed first to Yazdan of every name.

Though innocent, he feared the wrathful king,And all the weight that crown and kingship bring.

He kept a sleepless watch and pondered wellHow he might solve the secret he must tell.

When sunlight shone across the heavenly face,He read the stars and searched their ordered place.

He washed his inward sight in wisdom’s stream,And weighed the riddle like a waking dream.

He chose a trusted sage from those he knew,A man whose care was steady, sharp, and true.

He said, “Misfortune brought me to this plight;These sufferings have robbed me of my sight.

Watch those who pass us on the road today;Ask who they are, and tell me what they say.”

Bozorgmehr left his house, and soon there cameA woman beautiful in face and frame.

The watchful friend observed her on the road,And told the sage what signs her presence showed.

He said, “Go ask this woman passing byIf she is wed, and bring me her reply.”

“I have a husband,” came her answer clear,“And bear a child within me, hidden here.”

The sage upon his white horse rode ahead,Reflecting on the words the woman said.

Another woman passed along the way;His friend approached to hear what she would say:

“O woman, are you wife and mother too,Or does no child belong at home with you?”

She said, “I have a husband; I have knownNo child as yet to cherish as my own.”

A third appeared, with graceful step and face;The friend addressed her with attentive grace.

“My fair one, are you maiden, or a wife?What household bond attends your present life?”

She said, “No husband ever came to me;I keep myself apart, a maiden free.”

The sage discerned the riddle they implied,And matched the omen to the chest inside:

The pregnant wife revealed a pearl pierced through;The barren bride, a pearl drilled halfway true;

The untouched maid, a virgin pearl untried,Where never iron pierced its lustrous hide.

They brought him to the Shah’s imperial hall;He bowed before the Shah who ruled them all.

Yet Anooshirvan’s heart was troubled sore,To find the sage’s eyes could see no more.

He breathed deep sighs, with sorrow in his breast,And begged the sage forgive his harsh arrest.

He owned the unjust pain he had imposed,Then Caesar’s challenge to the sage disclosed.

He spoke of Rum, the casket, lock, and seal,And of the secret none could yet reveal.

The sage replied, “May glory crown your reign,As long as heaven’s circling stars remain.

Now call a session of the learned and wise,With Caesar’s envoy there before their eyes.

Let all Mobadan, chiefs, and seekers stand,And place the casket near the royal hand.

Then through God’s strength, who gave my spirit sight,And led my search toward hidden truth and light,

I will declare what lies within that chest,Though no hand touch the lock at your behest.

Although my eyes are blind, my heart is whole;Discerning light is breastplate to my soul.”

The king rejoiced, released from fear and pain,Like springtime roses after winter rain.

Anxiety no longer bent his frame;He called the envoy, and the casket came.

He summoned all the mighty and the wise,And bade the learned sit before his eyes.

With Bozorgmehr beside them in the hall,The Shah addressed the Roman before all:

“Repeat your message, speak your purpose clear,And make your claim before the nobles here.”

The Roman spoke, and this is what he said:“From this victorious lord, whose fame is spread,

We look to find the answer here made plain,Through wisdom worthy of your royal reign.

The Mobadan who seek the path of truth,The chiefs and warriors, men of age and youth,

Are either gathered at your court today,Or serve your throne from every distant way.

If these shrewd-hearted sages view this chest,Its lock and seal, and undertake the test,

And clearly state what object lies inside,With words by tested wisdom as their guide,

Then by that token we will tribute send,And keep our pledge as ally and as friend.

But if they fail to name the hidden thing,Ask tribute no more from the Roman king.”

When Bozorgmehr had heard the Roman speak,He praised Yazdan whom all the wise must seek.

He said, “May this world’s Shah receive bright praise,With fortune’s favor through his royal days.

Praise to the Master of the sun and moon,Who grants the soul its knowledge like a boon.

He knows what lies in shadow and in light;I seek His wisdom, source of every sight.

Within the casket lie three pearls that shine,Enclosed beneath a covering rich and fine.

One pearl is pierced, the second pierced halfway,The third has never known the iron’s way.”

The Roman sage, on hearing, brought the keyTo Anooshirvan, that all the court might see.

They opened it; a case lay wrapped insideIn silk that served the precious pearls to hide.

Inside the silk three jewels shone intact,Confirming that the sage’s words were fact.

The first was pierced, the second halfway through,The third was whole, as Bozorgmehr foreknew.

The Mobadan praised him and let jewels rain;The king’s glad face shone bright, released from pain.

He filled Bozorgmehr’s mouth with pearls of light,While shame oppressed his conscience at the sight.

His past conduct oppressed his heart with grief:Why had he ever wronged so loyal a chief?

The sage recalled the armlet lost from view,The raven and the sleep the monarch knew;

The huntsmen then confirmed the tale as true;The raven’s crop, cut open, proved it too:

Three swallowed pearls, ripped from the bird of prey,Had washed the sage’s blameless name that day.

“What came was fated; grief can bring no gain,Nor can regret undo our former pain.

When heaven wills,” he said, “the seed takes root;Shah, sage, and minister must bear its fruit.

What God has written in the stars must be;Upon our heads descends His firm decree.”

May joy within the Shah’s own heart remain,And keep him ever free from grief and pain.

However high a king, he finds his restThrough wise advice that calms his troubled breast.

The king may hunt, wage war, and feast at ease,Give gifts and seek whatever joys may please.

Recall the kings who passed before his day:Each followed his own will and went away.

To gather wealth and bear the troops’ distress,Hear harsh complaints and grant the wronged redress;

Such cares of rule and treasure never cease;They rob the sage’s heart and soul of peace.

Thus matters stood in Anooshirvan’s reign,When wisdom held the crown and battle’s rein.

He was the Shah and Pahlevan in one,A warrior where the fields of war were won.

Chief priest, fire-priest, captain of the fight,He held the realm through judgment, law, and might.

He sent his secret agents everywhere,And left no charge to ministers’ sole care.

No good or evil, grave or slight in weight,Could hide from him or pass beyond his gate.

One loyal Mobad from among his menSet down this question for the royal pen:

“One time you pass a fault without a word;Another time the culprit’s plea is heard,

Yet still he hangs, though begging hard for grace.”The Shah replied with justice in his face:

“The man who clings to sin is sick,” he said;“I am the healer at his stricken bed.

If every cure should fail to make him whole,I cease to tend his hardened, sin-bound soul.”

Another said, “Be blessed on every side,From all ill sheltered, guarded far and wide.

The captain left Gorgan without his men,And entered woods, apart from public ken.

He slept awhile; the Gilak thieves drew near,And stripped the heedless captain of his gear.”

The Shah replied, “No man should take commandWho cannot guard the goods in his own hand.

How can he guard an army in the frayWho lets his own possessions slip away?”

Another said, “Live happy evermore,With learned sages feasting at your door.

A famous chief is here, whose wealth is vast;His treasure has the royal hoard surpassed.”

The Shah replied, “That wealth is his by right;My crown requires I guard him with my might.

I guard his treasure and his life as mine,And toil to make his honor grow and shine.”

Another said, “Great king, live free from ill;Among Rum’s captives, many infants still

Are at the breast.” The Shah gave this decree:“The nursing babes at once shall all go free.

Send them back to their mothers, free from need;Give wealth enough for every mouth to feed.”

They wrote, “A hundred wealthy men of RumWould pay to win their freedom from this gloom.”

He said, “If fear compels the price they give,Sell each for wine and let each captive live.

We want no gems of theirs, no golden hoard,No slaves, no silver, and no Roman sword.”

They told him, “Two rich merchants in the townKeep people wakeful when the night comes down.

With revel, rebec, harp, and voices raised,Their houses shake while others stand amazed.”

He answered, “This is no distressing thing;Let other wealthy men take joy and sing.

Live free from harm, and let your joys abound;Let neither grief nor injury be found.”

One day they wrote, “May evil eyes be far;The Yemen monarch spoke beneath your star.

He said, ‘When Anooshirvan begins to speak,He names the dead till living hearts grow weak.’”

The Shah replied, “The wise and nobly bredKeep faith with absent friends and praise the dead.

No friendship can be sound if those apartAre cast from memory and from the heart.”

Another said, “Your youngest son has boughtA field so cheap the seller now is caught

In grief, unlike the justice of his sire.”The Shah replied, “Such dealing earns my ire.

This is not well; return to him his land,And leave the purchase money in his hand.”

Another said, “O Shah, remote from blame,Your once mild heart no longer seems the same.

Why has it grown imperious, hot, and strong?”The Shah replied, “I had no teeth for long.

Then milk alone sustained me, mild and sweet;With teeth and strength, I came to feed on meat.”

Another said, “Your might is plain to me,Your counsel and your knowledge all men see.

But how have you surpassed all kings before?Why does the world esteem your counsel more?”

“My wisdom,” said the Shah, “outstrips their ken;Sense, knowledge, counsel are my serving men.

The earth itself my treasury I call,And thought the treasurer that commands it all.”

Another said, “Your hawk in chase todayHas taken down an eagle as its prey.”

The Shah replied: “Strike off its haughty head,And let its carcass hang where branches spread;

The eagle is the monarch of the skies;Let none presume against his king to rise!”

Another wrote, “Chief Barzin marched awayWith all his troops at dawn, in full array.

A reader of the stars foretold, ‘No moreWill he be seen, once past the royal door.’”

The Shah replied, “The heavens favor him;They will not make his star or fortune dim.

Nor stars, nor sun, nor moon shall now destroyThat chieftain and his army’s strength and joy.”

Another learned priest said, “One day the kingCommanded that a noble man should bring

Reports from all the realm, for justice’s sake,And note what good or evil paths men take.

Gashasp, the noble scribe, has years of skill;Let him take up this charge and serve your will.”

The Shah replied, “Though far from want or need,Gashasp is still possessed by private greed.

Choose someone else, experienced and austere,With wealth enough and conscience clean and clear:

One who puts duty first, whose hands are pureOf private gain, who serves the weak and poor.”

One said, “The chief cook nurses grievance still;He dresses favored meats with loyal skill.

His dishes wait for you where crossroads meet;You never come, and no one sits to eat.”

The Shah replied, “Too much food wearies taste;A surfeit turns the finest feast to waste.”

Another said, “All thoughtful people fearThe king rides out with few attendants near.

Your friends are troubled by the risks you bear,Lest some false suppliant strike you unaware.”

He answered, “Justice guards the sovereign’s life;With wisdom, it protects him from such strife.

Right is the only guard the judge has known,When justice is the armor of the throne.”

Another said, “O Shah, both wise and great,The chief of Khorasan has asked of late:

‘Why is Zarasp dismissed?’” The king replied,“He cast my charge and counsel both aside.

I bade him lay the treasure-houses bareFor worthy folk in fortune or despair.

The man whose gifts are meager, mean, and smallConceals the royal farr that blesses all.”

Another said, “Great king, what fault or lackHas made your servant Mehrak’s face grow slack,

His wages cut, his visage pale and wan?”The Shah replied, “Presumption drove him on.

Long service made him arrogant with wine;He came to court and crossed the royal line.

No former service saved him in my sight;Long service does not turn a wrong to right.”

A Mobad said, “When Rum-ward armies roam,The Shah calls only Iran’s troops from home.

He sends Iran’s own troops to every war;Rum’s enmity has made their hardships sore.”

He answered, “That hostility has grownFrom Ahriman: its root is his alone.”

Another said, “You choose a different forceFrom former Shahs: what good in rider, horse,

And lion-handed warriors do you seekOn battle-days when ranks and lances speak?”

He said, “The warlike horseman must not tireOf combat, dust, pursuit, and sword and fire.

Feast and the field must be to him the same;Let him shine out when battle makes its claim.

He must not fail when need is at its height;Few foes or many must not cause him fright.”

Another said, “O Shah, in youth’s fair flower,May fortune keep you flawless in your power.

A man from Nisa, faithful at the gate,Was short when scribes examined tax and rate.

Three hundred thousand silver coins were lost;He claimed them spent, while scribes disputed cost.”

When scribes demanded that he pay his share,The king said, “Press him not, but show him care.

Give him still more from treasure; let no painAfflict a man already pressed by strain.”

Another said, “A Pahlevan was hurtAnd long disabled, cast down in the dirt.

Once cured, he charged Rum’s legions, fought, and fell,And left small children in the world to dwell.”

The Shah commanded, “Grant the children aid;Four thousand silver coins shall now be paid.

When warriors fall and children still remain,Their names, once read, shall bring them yearly gain.

Four times each year let silver reach their hand:One thousand coins each time, at my command.”

Another said, “At Marv the army chiefHas gathered wealth and brought the people grief.

He spends it; people leave the land in pain.”The Shah replied, “Restore his ill-got gain.

Return the wealth by which the land was drainedTo those from whom that treasure was obtained.

Proclaim it through Marv; at his gate shall standA gallows, plain to all within the land.

Before his troops and people, hoist him high;Hang him alive and head-downward to die,

So that no sepahbod in heart or willWill turn again from my command to ill.

Why bleed the poor to heap up private gold,And feed the flesh while making conscience cold?”

Another said, “God-fearing Shah, your courtIs thronged with subjects bringing glad report.

They bless your justice and give thanks for you.”He said, “Thank God no man fears what we do.

Let us protect with equity and mightBoth guilty and the innocent by right.”

Another said, “O Shah of farr and mind,The world is filled with sweets of every kind.

At night both lord and servant reel amazed,While joyful din leaves every spirit raised.”

He answered, “May my people all rejoice,And fill the world with one united voice.”

Another said, “Detractors criticizeYour lavish gifts, which they declare unwise:

‘You squander all the wealth that toil has gained.’”He answered, “If my wealth should be retained,

And no deserving hand receive its share,Then all I gained would vanish into air.”

Another said, “Exalted king, may fateKeep harm from soul and crown and royal state.

The Jews and Christians bear you hidden spite;Their double tongues serve Ahriman’s dark might.”

He answered, “No king’s greatness can remainIf those who seek protection meet disdain.”

“Mardvi,” another said, “has spent great sums,And spends them on himself as each need comes.

Three hundred thousand coins from royal storeHave gone to beggars, to himself still more.”

The Shah replied, “Our settled law is so:To worthy men our treasure ought to go.”

Another said, “O Shah, your treasury wanes;So much largess has emptied all its gains.”

He answered, “Open hands renew the bough;Through generous gifts, the tree grows verdant now.

The sovereign who reveres Yazdan will holdThe world itself above his hoarded gold.

Only the base find all the world unkind;No greed or harshness shall corrupt my mind.”

A learned priest said, “Kurukhan has drainedGreat sums from Balkh and left its people pained.

Three hundred thousand coins, great king, were paid,And in your treasury the sum was laid.”

The Shah replied, “We need no wealth that springsFrom subjects’ pain or harsh extortion’s stings.

Return it to the folk from whom it came,And add from royal stores more in my name.

A God-fearing Shah must shield each heart,And never let oppression play its part.

Tear down his palace; let its walls be clay;Let all his splendid dwelling fall away.

His palace shall lie ruined on the soil,His profit turned to hardship, grief, and toil.

Erase his name; let none at court proclaimThat such a man deserves an honored name.”

Another said, “O Shah of glorious race,You often speak of Jamshid’s ancient place,

And of Kavus.” Then Anooshirvan replied,“May knowledge save those kings from death’s dark tide.

I speak of them so that my crown and headMay be remembered after I am dead.”

Another asked, “Why does the Shah concealHis secret thoughts from Bahman’s loyal zeal?”

The Shah replied, “He turns from wisdom’s fruit,And feeds on lust that rises from the root.”

One said, “O Shah who guards the realm from woe,Why have your judgments lately seemed so slow?”

He answered, “I take counsel from the wise;When greed speaks out, then the voice of Div cries.

The heart grows empty, wisdom leaves the brain,And neither sense nor judgment can remain.”

A learned priest then asked the king of earthTo speak of kingship and religion’s worth.

“Is wisdom in a faithless sovereign’s reignWorth more than faith? Make this distinction plain.”

The Shah replied, “I said the same before,And holy men have heard this ancient lore.

No sovereign ever saw a faithless earth;Each man holds some belief by name and birth.

One worships idols; one holds doctrine pure;Each trusts the faith he follows to endure.

Heed not the Divs’ words that lead men astray;Keep hidden what your inward thoughts would say.

But when the great king lacks religious light,No one will bless the world with peace and right.

True Faith and Kingship are two twins of birth,Beneath one royal tent to rule the earth;

Religion has no shelter of its own,Nor can the crown maintain its state alone:

Each stands united, partner to its mate;Faith guards the crown, and kings protect the state.”

Another said, “You spoke before us all;These words of yours, O king, I now recall:

‘I am the deputy of Time,’ you said,‘Its good and evil rest upon my head.

Whatever praise is uttered in the landReturns like harvest to my royal hand.’”

He answered, “Yes: the crown of Time is mine;Upon my brow its royal glories shine.

The world is body, and the king its head;That is why crowns are worn,” the monarch said.

Another said, “O Shah, the people’s friend,May life and kingship flourish without end.

Five days have passed, O radiance of the court,Since the High Mobad gave his last report.”

He answered, “I feel no concern at this;He serves my cause, and nothing is amiss.”

One said, “O sun-bright Shah of noble fame,A suitor comes each morning with his claim.

We know his business has gone badly wrong,But not what grievance makes him wait so long.”

He answered, “In Hijaz thieves plundered himOf countless goods and left his fortune dim.

I have replaced his losses from my store,So trouble need not bruise his spirit more.

I keep him here so he may recognizeThe thieves, should they appear before his eyes.”

Another said, “O Shah of glorious birth,Whose justice and whose bounty bless the earth,

From Kioumars, the first of kings, till now,No crown has pressed so wise and just a brow.”

He said, “I thank Yazdan, whose wise decreeHas made the course of things what now we see.”

Wise Anooshirvan’s judgments now are past;The world is old; my youthful thoughts hold fast.

My gift for verse has not yet reached its height;In age, my words are filled with fiery light.

Through many years I labored at this rhyme,Unknown to Saturn, sun, and moon through time.

No one recalled this book or gave it praise,In public or in secret, through those days.

But since Mahmud has crowned my verse, its nameHas filled the world with praise and ringing fame.

May all the age beneath his name be blest;May heaven on his crown forever rest.

The preacher names Mahmud; the cross bows downBefore his throne in homage to his crown.

The idolaters of Hind he drives away;His sword gleams bright as silk in light of day.

Now read the letter Shah Anooshirvan wrote,And weigh the wisdom carried in its note.

He called a scribe and ordered him to writeA letter rich in counsel and insight:

“It comes from one exalted, bright of face,Whose greatness bends high heaven to his grace.

A just and generous king in word and deed,He gives his treasure where the worthy plead.

He raises Qobad’s throne and deathless name,And bears the crown of justice, state, and fame.

With grace, high stature, conduct, and renown,He holds all blessings granted by the crown.

He sends these counsels to his royal son,To prince Hormizd, whose reign has now begun.

In Pahlavi these counsels are addressedTo you, with knowledge of the pure Faith blessed.

Through God may you be glad, victorious, bright,A crowned Shah raised in Fortune’s radiant light.

This lucky month, upon Khordad’s fair day,With stars that shine and brighten all your way,

We set the golden crown upon your head,As once our father crowned us in his stead.

We grant the blessing glorious Qobad gave,That blessed our reign and made our spirit brave.

Be vigilant and master of the earth;Be wise and noble, knowing virtue’s worth.

Increase in knowledge; let your soul draw nearTo God, who makes the path before you clear.

We questioned one whose wisdom years had tried,An aged sage with knowledge for his guide:

‘Which man is nearest God? And who is heThat walks the straightest road, from terror free?’

He answered, ‘Let true knowledge be your way,So people bless the justice you display.

The sage derives no greatness from the dust;Make your pure spirit wise as well as just.’

By knowledge kings make bright the realm they own;May wisdom bring good fortune to your throne.

Let no false pledge bring shame upon your head;The dust shall be the oath-breaker’s last bed.

Do not punish the innocent with blame,Nor trust the slanderer’s deceitful claim.

Let every ordinance of yours be just;In justice place your spirit’s deepest trust.

If you would lend new splendor to the throne,Let falsehood never make your tongue its own.

Three evils strip a monarch of his grace,And hurl his royal farr from its high place:

Falsehood in speech, the breaking of a vow,And seizing wealth that makes your subjects bow.

The wealth of others is your treasure’s foe;From such a hoard your final grief will grow.

Take joy in wealth your labor made secure,And shelter high and low with justice pure.

Reward the man who walks the upright way,Oppose the evildoer without delay.

Though honor in the world around you grows,Remember toil, misfortune, grief, and woes.

Whatever one becomes, the world remainsA transient house of losses, dust, and pains.

Seek worth, and keep the wise forever near,If Fortune’s praise is what you hold most dear.

By knowledge rise, and let its counsel guideYour steps, that harm may never reach your side.

Cherish the man who serves within your sight,And tramples down your foe in loyal fight.

When kingly gold is set upon your head,Discern the noble road from paths of dread.

Keep always in your presence one wise guide;As dear as life, let him stand at your side.

The great men and the merchants of the townMust share in justice underneath your crown.

In great and little matters, keep in mindThe man in whom both skill and sense you find.

Give battle-gear to no unworthy man;When need arrives, he may betray your plan.

He yields you to the foe; the arms you gaveMay serve to rout the troops they ought to save.

Be generous to all who live distressed;Fear evil deeds and Fortune’s sudden test.

Discern the secret springs within your heart;Make no false show of virtue or of art.

Be measured; keep your giving well controlled;Hear seasoned counsel from the wise and old.

Turn to religion; keep its light in view,To bridle wrath and envy springing through;

For righteous faith will keep your spirit sound,Where wisdom, peace, and temperance are found.

Proportion all expenses to your store;Do not grow anxious, always seeking more.

Keep to the precedents of kings of old,Let justice shape the sovereign power you hold.

The unjust Shah is cursed with every breath;Choose justice, not the road that leads to death.

Where are the kings who wore the crown of state?Where are their chiefs, the fortunate and great?

Their fame alone remains to mark their day;This fleeting world permits no lasting stay.

Command no bloodshed lightly; do not sendThe army forth without a worthy end.

Heed this grave letter; fix it in your heart;From worldly greed keep soul and sense apart.

I wished you well; I sought to make you wise,And gave you knowledge that the learned prize.

By Him who rules the sun and moon, keep clearOf Divs and grant their power no foothold here.

Keep this, my letter, by you every day;Let wisdom speak, and let your heart obey.

If you leave deeds the world will long recall,Your name and greatness shall not fade at all.

May the world’s Maker be your refuge still;May time and earth obey your royal will.

May high heaven turn according to your aim,And keep you far from deeds that merit blame.

May no misfortune bar your path to joy,Nor any loss your happiness destroy.

May Time forever serve your royal throne;May all your ill-wishers be overthrown.

May moon and Jupiter your throne attend;May heaven’s stars their aid to Fortune lend.

May your crown light the world with shining rays;May kings’ proud splendor pale before its blaze.”

He stored the letter, anxious, insecure;In this frail world, no mortal can endure.

A king well counseled, modest, wise, and just,Should couple strength with courage and with trust.

Pure in the Faith, he trusts in God each day,And lets both strength and valor guide his way.

Look closely: who possesses every trait?Praise him; such virtues mark the truly great.

He shines like Jupiter, equipped for fight,With sword and jowshan, striving for the right.

He wrests the realm from those who idols prize,And in his heart the pure Faith’s beauty lies.

Now generosity shines clear and bright;King Mahmud rules the world in all his might.

He takes delight in battle and in cheer;The world knows both have long to him been dear.

O Abul-Qasim, may God grant the ageLong joy in seeing such a sovereign sage!

There was an elder skilled in ancient speech,Who knew past deeds and had much lore to teach.

He read a Pahlavi account one day,And told what wise Anooshirvan would say.

It said a Mobad questioned, filled with awe:“How should a worshipper approach God’s law?

How should he call in secret prayer above,To win an answer and the Master’s love?

A man may stretch his arms toward the sky,And plead before Yazdan, time’s Lord, on high,

Yet fail to gain the answer he implores,And turn in grief from prayer’s still-bolted doors.”

The conquering Shah replied, “Let measure guideRequests to God; set boundless wants aside.

When wishes overrun the heart’s restraint,Desire becomes the soul’s consuming taint.”

The Mobad asked, “Who merits what is good?Who bears true greatness, rightly understood?”

The Shah replied, “The man who gathers gold,Then hoards it fast and keeps his treasure cold,

Is unfit for the throne or royal place;Good Fortune turns away and hides her face.

But blessed is the man whose open handGives freely from the wealth at his command.”

“What gives rise to wisdom?” asked the sage,“Who gathers fruit from learning, age by age?”

“The learned find that joy,” the Shah replied,“And modest men of noble birth beside.”

The Mobad asked, “Who gains from what he knows?Through lack of knowledge, whose misfortune grows?”

The Shah replied, “Who cherishes the wiseWill cherish life and see its profit rise.

When knowledge grows, the soul receives its gain;Its lack brings grief, anxiety, and pain.”

The Mobad asked, “Does learning’s light outshineBoth royal grace and majesty divine?

For grace and majesty adorn the throne,And make a king in state and glory known.”

The Shah replied, “With knowledge joined to grace,A man may hold the world in his embrace.

Wisdom and grace, good name and noble birth:May heaven grant these four to crown your worth.”

“Who merits kingship and the royal seat?”The Mobad asked, “Whom does the throne defeat?”

The Shah replied, “First seek the aid of HimWho rules the world, whose power can never dim.

Next, bounty, knowledge, custom, justice too,And care for those who bring their wrongs to you.

Third, give authority to men whose worthDeserves such rank among the men of earth.

Fourth, let no good or evil deed evadeYour knowledge; let no wrong remain in shade.

Fifth, do not take an enemy for a friend;A king must shun injustice to the end.

When grace and wisdom, faith and fortune meet,Then he is worthy of the royal seat.

But if those qualities should disappear,The king grows dim and loses luster here.

An evil name outlives his dying breath;No joyful garden waits beyond his death.”

The Mobad asked, “What turns the noble mindTo deeds of evil, base and ill-designed?”

He answered, “Greed and want, when they begin,Turn noble minds to foul Divs steeped in sin.

Who yearns for heaven drives the Div away,And turns from dark temptation to the day;

Though heaps of worldly gold before him shine,His fervent prayer breaks Ahriman’s design.”

The Mobad asked, “How many kinds of speech?And what can thought and wisdom gain from each?

Some bring us tears, while others bring acclaim,Or treasure, rank, contentment, and a name.”

Said Anooshirvan, “The sage has marked them all,And weighed their rise, their value, and their fall.

First comes profitable speech, the harmless kind,Which leaves no wound in body, soul, or mind.

Next, measured speech, whose speaker must possessA heart well stocked with knowledge to express.

He speaks as much as proves of use that day;His words remain when he has passed away.

Third comes the wit whose words bring laughter’s light,Yet keep his honor and his standing bright.

The fourth is idle speech that wastes the hour,A fleeting pastime void of use or power;

The fifth is falsehood, poisonous and vile,A tongue that ruins kingdoms through its guile:

It stains the speaker with enduring shame,And casts his spirit into hellish flame.”

The Mobad said, “Though rich in learned lore,You still seek knowledge, ever asking more.

Your soul is kindled by its growing light;Tell me: does learning ever reach its height?”

The Shah replied, “Through all that I have learned,My soul’s desire for wisdom still has burned.

Avoid wrongdoing; look to knowledge still,More precious than the crown or royal will.”

The Mobad said, “No scholar have I foundWhose learning was so vast, his mind so sound,

That any man of wisdom might declare:‘No further teaching such a mind can bear.’”

The Shah replied, “Can treasure satisfyA man before he lies in dust to die?

Yet knowledge stands above a treasure’s worth;The learned man is honored on the earth.

Our words endure when flesh and fortunes fail;No gathered treasure weighs in wisdom’s scale.”

The Mobad said, “Does learning’s flame burn bestIn ancient sages, brighter than the rest?”

The Shah replied, “Although a man is old,His knowledge keeps his inward spirit bold.

You should prefer him to a foolish youth,Whose worth is hollow, lacking age and truth.”

The Mobad asked, “You spoke in days gone byOf former kings and thrones they held on high.

Now when you name them, all the great men hearA sigh that rises from your heart in fear.”

The Shah replied, “This custom grieves me so:To come as king, then have to rise and go;

To set this world in order, rule the day,Then leave it all and lightly pass away.”

The Mobad said, “Your former way was clear:You spoke to all in nobler terms of cheer.

Now you despise them and say little moreOf present matters or the days before.”

Said Anooshirvan, “I have spoken long;Now deeds must prove if what I said was strong.”

The Mobad said, “Your prayers in earlier daysBefore the sacred fire gave briefer praise.

Your praises now are longer than before;Your pleas and lamentations swell still more.”

He answered, “Holy God lifts from the dustHis worshipper who puts in Him his trust.

He bends the turning sky toward His slave,And makes the world obey the gift He gave.

If such a slave gives thanks with meager breath,Let hardship hold him near distress and death.”

The Mobad asked, “Since you became our king,What greater thanks to God does kingship bring?

What gives you joy and makes your gladness grow,And fills your foes with terror, grief, and woe?”

He answered, “Thanks to God, our fortune stood;Our days have turned beneath His grace for good.

No rival ever sought to rise so highBut turned away in tears, with downcast eye.

My foes were humbled when they met my mightAnd saw my heavy gorz raised in the fight.”

The priest went on, “In eastern wars your handWas swift and eager, fearless in command.

But when you led your armies toward the West,With patience and delay you met the test.”

And Anooshirvan said, “The youthful mindLeaves thoughts of toil and suffering behind.

But when a man has come to sixty years,He takes a gentler road through age and fears.

Thanks to the all-providing Lord of all,Who authors Fortune’s rising and its fall,

I had great prowess in my younger days,And did not fear how fortune changed its ways.

Now age brings knowledge, counsel, wealth to give;With open hands I spend the years I live.

The world obeys my rule and firm command,And heaven is my breastplate where I stand.”

The Mobad said, “The Shahs who held this throneMade both their public thoughts and secrets known.

Your words are briefer and your secrets more,Yet you surpass the famous kings before.”

He answered, “Kings who trust Yazdan’s decreeFrom worldly burdens keep their spirits free.

They need not bear the world’s distress alone;The Maker guards this kingdom as His own.”

“I see the kings who should rejoice and sing,”The Mobad said, “bowed down by care’s dark wing.”

And Anooshirvan said, “The man of senseMeets fear of loss with prudence as defense.”

The Mobad said, “The Shahs of former daysLet neither grief nor battle cloud their ways.

Their feasts were never spoiled by fear or fight;Their cups remained their pleasure and delight.”

The Shah replied, “In cups they lost their fame,And drunken pleasure dimmed their royal name.

With me, my name has conquered thirst for wine;Time’s spirit is a servant now to mine.”

The Mobad said, “Old Shahs preserved their health,With drugs and doctors, guarding life like wealth.”

He answered, “If a man’s time has not come,And heaven’s final tabira stays dumb,

He stands secure; no drug has special worth,For time itself protects him on the earth.

But when a man must leave this mortal state,No remedy can hold him back from fate.”

The Mobad said, “You praise Yazdan at length,Yet little joy seems left to lend you strength.

You praise the Maker, but your soul bears care;Some hidden grief you seem indeed to bear.”

“I have no care,” said Anooshirvan then;“My heart accepts what heaven brings to men.

I fear that those who praise me to my faceAnd bless my faith with overcolored grace,

May show a fervor greater than they feel;I seek to know what subjects’ hearts conceal.”

“Why do we cherish children?” asked the sage,“And seek a home, a name, and ripe old age?”

The Shah replied, “Who leaves a child behindWill not be wiped from memory and mind.

Who has a child finds sweetness in his days,And for its sake avoids wrongdoing’s ways.

When he departs, his grief is less severe:He leaves a child to shed a loving tear.”

The Mobad asked, “Who rests from toil and care?Whose kindness leaves him nothing but despair?”

He answered, “God’s true worshipper will holdThe reins of fortune, needing no more gold.

He seeks no increase and so lives at ease;If he desired more, fear would bend his knees.

As for good deeds and secret hopes to aid,The thankless leave the giver ill repaid.

The man who plans good works for thankless menWill see his kindness buried out of ken.”

“The evildoer dies,” the Mobad said,“His name and fame lie buried with the dead.

The righteous man will also pass away,And destiny will count his every day.

Why praise good deeds when death will claim us all,And good and bad must answer to its call?”

And Anooshirvan replied, “Good deeds will findA ready market in the human mind.

The doer dies; his name survives decay,His soul finds rest with God beyond the clay.

Who fails in goodness will not find his rest,And leaves an evil memory in each breast.”

The Mobad said, “Of all the ills we dread,Death is the worst. What course now lies ahead?”

The Shah replied, “When leaving this dark earth,The life then gained will have a purer birth.

Whoever lived in fear and grief and strifeMust mourn that dark and sorrow-laden life.

Yet Shah or subject quits this world of pain,And leaves its dread, its injury, and chain.”

The Mobad asked, “What brings the gravest woesOf all the hurt and harm a mortal knows?”

He answered, “Anger, grief, and fear combinedBring heavy burdens to the troubled mind.

Fear, anger; all are grief, however named;For grief has never rightly been acclaimed.”

“How can we flee from these?” the Mobad cried,“The world gives cause for tears on every side.”

The Shah replied, “The road is knowledge bright;The sage keeps cheer in darkness and in light.”

“Which one of us has greatest store of treasure?”The Mobad asked, “and fullest share of pleasure?”

The Shah replied, “The man with least distressHas greater treasure than the rest possess.”

The Mobad asked, “Which fault is held most vile,And furthest from both worth and heaven’s smile?”

The Shah replied, “A woman lacking shame,Whose voice is never gentle, merits blame.

In men, the worst is folly they obey,Which holds them captive till their dying day.”

The Mobad asked, “Who feels the least dismay?”“The shameless man,” the Shah began to say.

“He goes before his God weighed down with sin,Yet feels no shame for all the dark within.”

The Mobad asked, “Who keeps his conduct right,Whose soul and wisdom hold the heart upright?”

The Shah replied, “Who toils through loss and gain,And does no evil despite joy or pain.”

The Mobad asked, “Who ranks above the rest,And stands among all humankind as best?”

“The patient man,” the Shah replied, “whose worthIs greater than the rest upon this earth;

Who does no evil for the gains it brings,Nor dreams of greatness won through wicked things.

Next, one who gives and asks for no return,Whose heart is free of shadows of concern.

Third, one who strives for God and for the right,With wisdom and a spirit pure and bright.”

“What does the heart most dread?” the elder said.“The harm to which our own misdeeds have led.”

“What gift is best?” the Mobad asked. “What deedExalts a giver through the help men need?”

The Shah replied, “In loss and gain alike,Withhold no gift from those whom need may strike.”

The Mobad asked, “Explain the world’s design,Its open workings and its hidden sign.

Whatever action comes, for loss or gain,Should we accept its profit and its pain?”

The Shah replied, “Above the ancient skyYazdan of knowledge holds His power on high.

Though sky is knowing, mindful, old, and vast,Above all lords the living God stands fast.

Walk the straight path and keep disaster far,And do not charge your fortune to a star.

Ascribe no good or evil to the sky;Both come from Him whose power cannot die.

He has no peer, the One whose will is cause,Whose word gives being, judgment, rule, and laws.

He was, He is, and ever shall endure,Beyond all change, eternal, whole, and pure.”

“The body is the lodging of the soul;Which of the two feels pain and pays the toll?”

The Shah replied, “The living body knowsIts pain while soul within its chamber glows.

When soul departs and leaves its mortal place,The body loses sense and living grace.

When soul is gone, the body’s order fails,And dissolution’s quiet hand prevails.”

The Mobad asked, “Can need be kept concealedSo that its secret never is revealed?”

The Shah replied, “The wise discern that need,Yet endless toil awaits the slave of greed.

For greed is never satisfied with treasure;It hungers past all boundary and measure.”

The Mobad asked, “Among the kings of old,Whose faith and wisdom ancient tales have told,

Whom do you know as worthy of our praise,Now he is dead, O monarch of our days?”

The Shah replied, “That king deserves acclaimWho serves his God and turns from deeds of shame.

He fears Yazdan who gave all things their birth,And rests from fear and trouble on the earth.

He fills the hearts of good men with good cheer,And makes the wicked tremble in their fear.

He arms his troops from treasures of the crown,And foils the plots of those who tear it down.

He questions all the sages of the field,And keeps his secrets from his foes concealed.”

The Mobad asked, “Where does true worship start,And who draws near to God with faithful heart?”

The Shah replied, “Seek meanings finely spun;Let all your soul attend till truth is won.

First know that God is One, without a peer,A truth that brief instruction makes most clear.

Then thank Him for the mercies He has shown;Trust Him who rules both earth and heaven alone.

Fear Him when evil tempts your heart astray;Trust Him when you pursue the righteous way.

If good at heart and wise in all you do,You win respect from those who meet with you.

If you let evil in your spirit dwell,Your soul has sent its burden on to Hell.

Do not feel settled in this passing place;The world conceals its counsel and its face.

Attend to works of faith; you need not fearThat harm will reach you through their practice here.

Let wisdom teach your heart and clear your view;Do not let fortune make a fool of you.

And do not join the guilty in their strife,Nor make their wrong the pattern of your life.

Do not give your heart to this fleeting show;Consider what the other world will know.

Let your seat always be among the wise,And seek the deathless joys that heaven supplies.

For all we hold on earth will pass away,And reason scorns the pleasures of a day.

Incline to sense and counsel; wisdom’s roadWill guide your heart toward God’s secure abode.

Speak measured words; let this truth check your tongue:The world is old, and you are very young.

Do not be drunk with pleasures of the day;Do not let wickedness direct your way.

Restrain your heart from what can never be,And give such largess as is fit and free.

Withhold no gift, though friends should ask to takeYour eyes, your brain, your skin for friendship’s sake.

When friends must settle what is owed or due,No judge need stand between the faithful two.

If you consort with foes, then guard your part,So none can gain a purchase on your heart.

Who seeks the path of goodness must possessRestraint and modesty and gentleness.

Do not let boasting magnify your name;The just man counts a lie a cause for shame.

The just regard high station as thin air,And do not scorn the poor man in despair.

If someone speaks with malice, keep your mindFree from the anger such words leave behind.

If, knowing you are weak, he breaks all bounds,And hurls harsh language forth in wrathful sounds,

Reply with measured terms and fitting speech;Let fresh and kindly words be what you teach.

If kindness brings him back to self-command,He will repent and seek your pardoning hand.

Devote no leisure wholly to delight;The wise see idleness as loss of light.

Be diligent in all you undertake;Let learning guide the choices that you make.

Begin no deed whose ending brings regretOr lasting anger you cannot forget.

Have pity on the man bowed by distress;Do not increase his anguish or his stress.

The sage who trains his heart to patience hereIs never scorned within the Maker’s sphere.

He knows the reach of all his skill and art,And in due measure carries out his part.

His friends increase the help that they bestow;His worth and eminence together grow.

The godly man is not distressed to findHis scattered wealth has all been left behind.

Make worship yours; keep all your conduct true;Let no deceit take root or dwell in you.

There is one charge, one road both straight and plain:Incline to God, and in His shade remain.”

If you, O Shah, intend to govern right,Good deeds will keep your memory burning bright.

So Anooshirvan, though flesh has turned to dust,Still lives in fame because his rule was just.

The righteous deeds that marked his honored reignWill keep his fame while time and earth remain.

And while the earth and sky endure above,The sages shall recall his soul with love.