New Naqqali📖✍️👑✨🌸🌧️☀️💰🎁👥⚔️⚖️🙏🏰📖15 emoji · the whole poem in emoji →
In briefFerdowsi opens the Seven Stages with praise of Mahmud, a spring of thunder, tulips and narcissus, and the claim that the Shah’s open hand outdoes the rain. He then calls for the elder’s tale of the Ruyin Dezh.
Next come the Seven Stages, which I moldIn newly fashioned words of worth and gold.
Of war and counsel, vengeance, justice, might,Of feasts and revels, and the bitter fight.
If Fortune aids me in the task I choose,And grants success to my poetic muse,
With ’s royal backing I shall sing,His and crown sustaining all I bring.
May this world’s Shah forever live and reign,With mighty kings as servants in his train.
The shining sun revealed its face above,And graced the face of earth with light and love.
When in the Ram the sun renewed the crown,Both East and West rejoiced in his renown.
The mountains echo thunder, deep and loud;Along the streams, narcissus, tulips crowd.
Narcissus scowls; calm tulips bloom below;Hyacinths flame; pomegranate blossoms glow.
The clouds have hearts of fire and tearful eyes,While wrath and music mingle in the skies.
The cloud shows fire and pours its waters deep;Its thunder wakes the sleeper from his sleep.
Awake: the world is silk in colors bright,Like ’s art in Chin, spread to your sight.
The sunlit world displays its springtime pride,With tulip and narcissus tearful-eyed.
It laughs: “O bold-eyed one, for love I cry;Not pain nor anger brings tears to my eye.”
Earth only laughs when rain falls from on high;A generous monarch’s hand outshines the sky.
The sky gives rain in spring, then turns away;The generous Shah gives bounty every day.
As when the sun in Aries climbs the skies,The Shah’s hand pours its light on mortal eyes.
If treasure comes from earth or ocean’s store,If gold and musk lie heaped before his door,
He does not keep his light within his hall,But gives to kings and beggars, one and all.
’s hand pours its bounty brightOn pure and impious, on wrong and right.
He grudges none the gifts his hands bestow;Nor rests when preparations bid him go.
He enters battle when the times demand,And humbles kings beneath his conquering hand.
He gives his treasure to the men who yield,Unmindful of his labors in the field.
May Mahmud rule the world with justice crowned,And spread prosperity the whole world round.
Now hear the tale the seasoned elder told,And learn of , that famed stronghold.
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In briefThe dehqan begins the tale. Esfandiyar leaves Balkh with Gorgsar as guide, questions him over wine about the roads to the Ruyin Dezh, chooses the shortest, then rides ahead alone and kills the two giant wolves of the first stage.
The spread the board with practiced care,And set “The Seven Stages” as the fare.
He took a golden goblet in his hand,And told of King , who ruled the land.
He told of , the road ahead,And how the prince along it led.
The tale began: when grief and wrath took hold,And made ’s heart fierce and cold,
He came to , then left his father’s side,And took Gorgsar toward Turan as his guide.
He marched until the road before him split,And camped where both dividing pathways knit.
He bade them spread the board and furnish wine,With harp and song to make the gathering shine.
All the chiefs of the line sat down to eatBeside the king, each in his proper seat.
They brought Gorgsar, as ordered, bound and sore,Still worn by all the misery he bore.
By royal order, four full cups were poured;Gorgsar received them there before the lord.
Then spoke Esfandiyar: “Unlucky one,I shall enthrone you high beneath the sun.
I grant you Turan’s kingdom and its throne,And lift you high where royal powers are known,
When I return with victory complete,If all your words are free from all deceit.
Your kin and all your children’s kin shall beUnharmed, if you speak truthfully to me.
But if you turn aside and utter lies,No falsehood will find passage through my eyes.
My knife shall halve you at the waist and makeThe hearts of all who see your body quake.”
Gorgsar replied, “O prince of glorious name,No lie from me shall stain your royal fame.
The king shall hear the truth in every part;Then act with kingly wisdom in your heart.”
“Where stands the Ruyin Dezh?” the prince then said;“It lies beyond Iran—what waits ahead?
How many farsangs? Which roads reach its gate?What dangers on the journey lie in wait?
How many troops are gathered in that place?And tell me all its height and guarded space.”
Gorgsar replied, “O prince of royal seed,Three roads up to that guarded fortress lead.
has named that place his battleground;Three roads to reach its distant walls are found.
Three months your troops must travel by that way;The second road will take two months away.
The first has water, grass, and towns; it feedsThe chiefs of Turan, meeting all their needs.
The second gives the army little grain;No grass or watering place the beasts can gain.
No resting place appears along that road;No settled shelter offers an abode.
The third road takes but seven days to tread;The eighth will bring the fortress walls ahead.
With wolves and lions, dragons haunt that trail;Against their claws, all hopes of flight will fail.
Yet worse than wolf or lion, more to fearThan dragons, is the witch whose spells draw near.
From sea to moon she lifts one by her spell;Another plunges headfirst down a well.
Then desert, , cold that makes you freeze,And winds await that tear apart the trees.
Then will the Ruyin Dezh at last draw near,A wonder none has seen or heard of here.
It rises higher than the dark cloud’s wall;Arms, troops, and stores are gathered there for all.
Around it runs a river clear and wide,A sight to leave all gazers mystified.
The monarch takes a boat across its flowWhenever hunting calls him forth to go.
But should he dwell inside five score full years,No need to seek the outer world appears.
Within that Dezh are fields and pasture ground,Fruit trees and water, and a mill are found.”
Esfandiyar was troubled when he heard,And sighed awhile, then answered with firm word:
“There is no road for us except that way;The shortest path is best for us today.”
Gorgsar replied, “No king through might or skillHas crossed these Stages and survived them still.”
The chieftain answered, “If you ride with me,A ’s own strength and courage you shall see.
What does your knowledge say? What first draws near?What must I fight to force our passage clear?”
Gorgsar replied, “O famed and fearless man,Two wolves will meet you where the Stages span.
A male and female, elephant in size,With staglike horns, and battle in their eyes.
They long to fight with lions, chests spread wide,Lean-flanked, huge-tusked, with monstrous strength inside.”
They took him, bound and wretched, from the feast,Back to the tent; his chains were not released.
The prince prepared a feast; the board was spread;His cap was set upon his head.
When sun displayed its crown in heaven’s height,And earth lay bright beneath the sky’s clear light,
Tabiras sounded with a rolling cry;Earth turned to iron; ebony, the sky.
With fair array and spirits bold and strong,The prince advanced, his marching columns long.
He moved toward Turan; when the First drew near,He chose a veteran watchman, calm and clear.
His name was , a chief of fame,Who kept the army safe when foemen came.
He said, “Keep discipline among the men;Stand watchful over all the army then.
What Gorgsar said has troubled me with fear;I will go on; keep all my people here.
If evil falls on me along this road,It must not crush my men beneath its load.”
He donned his war coat; then his night-dark steedWas saddled for the prince to take the lead.
He neared the wolves; what wolves! Their monstrous heightMade each a mighty elephant in sight.
The wolves beheld his breast, his neck, his waist,His warrior grip, his iron well placed.
Like grim mad elephants, keen for the fight,They rushed from open plain with savage might.
The hero strung his bow; his battle cryWas like a roaring lion’s, fierce and high.
He rained his arrows from his practiced handsOn those two Divs that came from savage lands.
His steel-tipped arrows struck them, flight by flight;Both beasts were wounded, weakened in the fight.
He drew his watered blade and checked the rein,His head bent low; the beasts were weak with pain.
He cut their heads off, slashed their flesh; their bloodRan through the dust and turned the ground to mud.
Dismounting, he confessed his need and prayed;Then washed his blood-stained body, arms, and blade.
He sought a spot no blood had stained or marred,And faced the sun in worship and regard.
With dust upon his head, in grief he cried,“O righteous Judge, your strength has been my guide.
You laid these mighty creatures in the dust;In you alone I place my strength and trust.
You gave me judgment, strength, and skill to fight;Now guide me in the paths of what is right.”
When Bishutan arrived with all his men,They found the hero still at prayer, and then
In wonder asked, “Are these two wolves we see,Or raging elephants? How can this be?
Long live this heart, this sword, this mighty hand!Without him, let no throne or army stand,
No greatness and no royal feast remain!”They pitched his tent upon the open plain.
They spread a golden table, set to dine,And ate their food, then called for cups of wine.
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In briefPlied with wine, Gorgsar warns of a lion no nahang could face. Esfandiyar laughs, marches through the night, and at dawn kills both the lion and the lioness with his sword, washing and praying before his troops come up.
For fierce , the news brought only pain:The prince had fought the wolves, and both lay slain.
The prince commanded, “Bring the prisoner here.”They brought him quaking, face all wet with fear.
He gave him three full cups of wine, then said,“What wonder lies upon the road ahead?”
Gorgsar replied, “O monarch lion-souled,The next stage holds a terror to behold.
A lion waits to meet you on the way;No could withstand it in the fray.
The eagle, though its heart is bold in flight,Would never cross that path or meet its might.”
laughed lightly as he heard,And said, “You hostile Turk, now hear my word:
Tomorrow you shall see a warrior stand,And greet the lion with his sword in hand.”
When night grew dark, the monarch gave command;His troops set out across the shadowed land.
They marched throughout the darkness of the night,And praised the prince who led them to the fight.
When sun cast off its cloak of azure shade,And dressed the world in gold and rich brocade,
He reached the lions’ station on the plain,To meet the lions on their own terrain.
He called for and gave command,With much advice on how to guard the band.
“I go myself to fight these beasts,” he said,“And leave the force beneath your watch instead.”
He went ahead; as he approached the pair,The lion’s heart grew dark with deep despair.
A lion and a lioness were near;Both charged to meet the prince, devoid of fear.
The lion charged; he struck a mighty blow;Its face took on the coral’s crimson glow.
From head to waist he cleft the beast in two,And in its mate a sudden terror grew.
Yet like her mate she rushed with savage breath;His blade struck at her head and brought her death.
Her head rolled in the dust; the blood ran brightOn his strong hands and chest, red from the fight.
He washed his head and body clean of gore;No guardian but God did he implore.
He said, “O righteous Judge, my shield and stay,You used my hand to sweep these beasts away.”
The troops and Bishutan beheld the slain,And hailed the prince, renowned through earth’s domain.
The prince returned; within his tent they laidA feast of finest dishes, freshly made.
⛓️👤🍷🐉🔥⚠️👦🧠🪵🛠️🐎🐎🗡️🗡️🧰🧭🐉🔥💥🩸🗡️💀☠️😵👥😢🙏27 emoji · the whole poem in emoji →
In briefWarned of a dragon whose breath draws fish from the sea, Esfandiyar has a wheeled box built and hung about with swords. The dragon swallows cart and horses, is pinned on the blades, and he hacks it dead, fainting in its venomous fumes.
called , steeped in spite,A luckless man who wished him ill outright.
He gave him three full cups of rosy wine,Until that darkened heart began to shine.
Then said, “Ill-fated wretch, speak plain tonight:What perils will tomorrow bring to light?”
Gorgsar replied, “O king of high renown,May evil never bring your fortune down.
You went to battle like devouring fire,And passed through perils terrible and dire.
You do not know what waits another day;Spare your good fortune; turn and ride away.
When you confront the next stage on this quest,A greater peril puts you to the test.
A grim and mighty dragon lurks ahead,Whose breath draws fishes from the sea’s deep bed.
Flames pour from out the furnace of its jaw;Its mountain body fills the earth with awe.
If you retrace your steps, that course is well;Your soul bears witness to the truth I tell.
Have you no pity for yourself, or allThese troops assembled at your royal call?”
The prince replied, “Dragged bound, you wretch, you goWith me, to see me overcome this foe.
It shall not flee the blade that I shall wield,Nor break my grasp; to me the beast must yield.”
He called for carpenters; they came and broughtThe long, great beams of timber that he sought.
He had a sturdy wooden carriage made,With swords around it, edge by edge arrayed.
A box atop it, built with craftsman’s art,Would hold the prince within the bladed cart.
Two noble horses drew the prince along;He rode inside to test that all was strong.
In he drove awhile through the land,With helm secured and knife in hand.
The work was done; his preparations made,The world grew black beneath the night’s deep shade.
The moon in Aries showed her crown of light;Esfandiyar rode through the night.
His army marched before him in a train,Until dawn’s sign was written on the plain.
When black night’s banner folded up from view, came to him as morning grew,
With nobles and his kinsmen at his side;The prince put on his war coat for the ride.
He left his men in Bishutan’s command,And took his seat within the box as planned.
He harnessed two strong horses to the snare,And drove it straight toward the dragon’s lair.
Afar it heard the carriage wheels resound,And saw the horses tread the open ground.
It came in view, a mountain black as night;The sun and moon seemed hidden from his sight.
Its eyes were like two fountains filled with blood;Its mouth poured flames that surged forth in a flood.
Its jaws gaped wide, like caverns in the stone;Its bellow thundered at the prince alone.
He saw the beast and held his anxious breath,Then turned to God for help against that death.
The horses strained to flee the dragon’s force,But it sucked in the carriage and each horse.
Inside the box, the prince grew stern and grim;The swords lodged in the maw surrounding him.
Blood like a sea poured from its wounded maw;The swords stayed fixed between its throat and jaw.
Those swords had made its mouth a sheath of pain;It could not loose them; strength began to wane.
Then from the box the gallant warrior rose,And raised his sword to strike repeated blows.
With lion’s strength he hacked the dragon’s brain,Till venom fumes arose across the plain.
The fumes engulfed him; darkness veiled his head;He fell like a mountain, senseless as the dead.
Bishutan came; the army too drew near,With tears and grief and hearts consumed by fear.
They wailed and left their horses in the plain,In fear that their brave prince lay with the slain.
Then Bishutan came rushing to his aid,And bathed his face with rosewater, afraid.
When that young prince reopened both his eyes,He answered all the warriors’ grieving cries:
“The venom’s fumes subdued me in the fight;The dragon never struck me with its might.”
He rose from stupor as from sleep; he soughtFresh clothing, which his keeper quickly brought.
He washed his head and body, then he bowedAnd rolled in dust, invoking God aloud.
“Who could have killed this dragon but the oneWhom God upheld until the deed was done?”
The troops praised God and bowed; Gorgsar’s heart bledTo see the prince alive whom he thought dead.
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In briefWarned of a witch, Esfandiyar rides ahead with wine and a tanbur and sings of his loneliness. The witch comes to him as a Turkish beauty; he throws Zardosht’s chain around her neck, forces her true shape into view, and kills her.
pitched by the watersideHis royal tent, while troops camped far and wide.
He called for wine and music, friends drawn near,Then rose to toast with royal cheer.
He summoned , bitter and distressed;The grieving captive came at his behest.
The prince gave him two cups of royal wine,Then laughed about the dragon’s dark design.
He said, “You worthless wretch, behold the mightOf that great dragon’s sucking breath in fight.
When I go forward to another stage,What grief and toil will next my strength engage?”
Gorgsar replied, “O prince whom stars defend,Good fortune is your ever-faithful friend.
Tomorrow, when you halt and take your rest,A witch will come to greet you as your guest.
She has seen many armies drawing near;No warrior has filled her soul with fear.
She turns dry deserts into seas at will,And towers to the sun through magic skill.
Men call her ; beware that fatal snare,And spare your youth; do not go to her lair.
You have overcome the dragon; now turn back,And keep your name from dust upon this track.”
Esfandiyar replied, “Tomorrow, knave,You shall recount the prowess of the brave.
I shall so deal with her that I shall breakThe sorcerers’ proud backs and make hearts quake.
The one just God shall grant me strength to treadUpon each sorcerer’s defeated head.”
When day put on its yellow robe of gold,The sun turned west, and darkness took its hold.
He packed the loads and praised of all,Then marched his army under night’s dark pall.
When sun raised up its golden helm on high,And made the Ram shine ruby in the sky,
The earth smiled; then he gave his whole commandTo , and left it in his hand.
He took a golden cup, with wine supplied,And called for a fine for the ride.
Though battle lay ahead upon the way,He sought a feast, with wine and strings to play.
He saw a wood like Paradise ahead,As though the heavens planted tulips red.
The sun could scarcely pierce the leafy shade,With springs like rosewater throughout the glade.
He left his steed and chose within the woodA fountain’s edge whose shade was cool and good.
He grasped the golden goblet in delight,And let the wine make glad his heart and sight.
He took the tanbur, eager to impartIn song the longing hidden in his heart:
“Ill-starred am I; no friend comes drinking here,No wine companion comes to share my cheer.
Instead, I meet the lion and the dreadGreat dragon, with these labors still ahead.
It is not mine to see, upon this earth,A moon-faced beauty, rich in grace and worth.
God would fulfill the longing in my breastBy granting me a beauty as my guest:
Tall as a cypress, radiant as the sun,With musky hair that to her feet would run.”
The witch heard bold Esfandiyar and grewLike spring’s red rose when freshened by the dew.
She said, “A lion comes with robe and wineAnd music, caught within this snare of mine.”
Foul, wrinkled, and malicious in the gloom,She worked her spells and changed her shape and bloom.
She took the beauty of a Turkish maid,With musk-black hair and cheeks like Chin brocade.
Her cheeks like gardens, flowers at her breast,She came to where the prince had stopped to rest.
The prince, when he beheld her shining face,Sang, drank, and played with yet a greater grace.
He said, “O just and sovereign God, you guideOur feet through wilds and up the mountainside.
I wished for such a moon-faced, radiant maid,To share my joy within this woodland shade.
The just Creator gave what I desired;May heart and soul be pure, with worship fired.”
One cup of musk-sweet wine he offered up,To make her face glow ruby from the cup.
He kept a steel chain, hidden from her sight,And watched the witch, alert to any sleight.
From Paradise had brought this charmTo Goshtasb, then bound it on the prince’s arm.
Esfandiyar then cast it round her neck;Her strength collapsed beneath the sudden check.
She took a lion’s shape; he raised his blade,And answered, steady, bold, and not afraid.
“You cannot harm me, though your spells could makeYour form an iron mountain none could shake.
Show your true face; let all disguise be shed;My sword shall give its answer now instead.”
A fetid hag in chains now met his sight;Her face was black, her head and hair were white.
His struck her head; the witch lay dead.May you not see her body or her head.
When she lay dead, the daylight turned to gloom,And eyes grew dazed, bewildered at her doom.
A black wind rose and whirled the dust on high,And hid the sun and moon within the sky.
He climbed a height and thundered from its crest;Then Bishutan came forward with the rest.
He said, “Nahang and witch must yield the fight;No lion, wolf, or leopard bears your might.
May you remain exalted all your days;The world has need of love your heart displays.”
That feat made Gorgsar burn with raging ire;From his own crown there rose a tongue of fire.
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In briefGorgsar describes a Simorgh that carries off elephants. Esfandiyar drives the bladed cart to its mountain; the bird tears its wings on the swords, and he cuts it apart while its young shriek above a plain hidden by the carcass.
The prince laid down his face upon the ground,Before the Maker, where all grace is found.
He pitched his tent within the forest shade;A fitting royal banquet there was laid.
He told the executioner, “Now bringBound , shamed and wretched, to your king.”
They brought him bound before the prince in dread;He gave him three full cups of wine, deep red.
When ruddy wine had warmed the prisoner’s heart,The prince then spoke about the witch’s art:
“You luckless Turk, see on that tree the headOf that old witch, whose magic now lies dead.
You said she bore whole armies to the sea;Her head reached the , you told me.
Now by that witch’s measure, let me hearWhat marvel at the next stage will appear?”
He answered, “Elephant in fierce array,A greater danger waits upon the way.
Be more than ever wary, brave, and wise;A mountain rises high into the skies.
A lordly bird has made that height its nest,A mountain terror fierce above the rest.
The travelers call it ; you will findA flying mountain with a warlike mind.
It bears off elephants in single flight,And leopards, sea s, to clouded height.
No wolf or witch can ever be compared;It lifts such prey, its strength not once impaired.
Two young ones match its stature and its mind;Their purpose and its own are closely aligned.
It spreads its wings; the sun’s bright glories fade,And earth lies stunned beneath its mighty shade.
You cannot strive with Simorgh on that height;Turn back; you face a foe of greater might.”
The hero laughed: “My arrows, keen and true,Shall stitch its mighty shoulders through and through.
My Indian blade shall cleave its breast and throwIts head from mountain heights to dust below.”
When shining sunlight turned its face away,The sky grew grim to see the end of day,
The warrior-chief urged all the army on,And pondered Gorgsar’s words till night was gone.
Through all the night he rode on with his force,Until the mountain sun resumed its course.
When shining sunlight crowned the mountain land,The lamp of time renewed the earth and sand.
The dale and plain grew bright on every side;To he gave his troops to guide.
He took the box and sword-lined cart and spedLike wind along the mountain path ahead.
He saw a mountain rearing overhead,And halted in the shade its summit spread.
Absorbed in thought, he gazed up at the crest,And weighed the task that set him to the test.
He praised the one Creator, by whose willThe world stood firm, and stands obedient still.
From mountain heights, the Simorgh saw the trainBehind the box, and heard the s’ strain.
It swooped like some dark cloud from mountain height,And hid from all the sun and moon’s clear light.
It sought to snatch the carriage as its prey,As leopards seize the game they bear away.
Its wings and feathers struck the blades and tore;Its strength and splendor were its own no more.
It beat with beak and talons, torn and stung,Then sank, exhausted, where the sword-blades clung.
Its young flew screaming from the rocky nest,With tears of blood and terror in each breast.
Their shadows blurred the eyes of all below,As grief and shrieking crossed the plain of woe.
Blood washed the horses, box, and carriage red;The wounded bird lay weak, its vigor fled.
Then from the box came out,With battle gear and thunder in his shout.
In , Indian sword in his hand,He stood; a nahang no bird could withstand.
He struck until the bird was hacked apart;Now helpless lay that bird of magic art.
He praised the moon’s great Lord, who gave him skillAnd strength to gain dominion over ill.
He said, “O righteous Judge, O Lord whose mightAnd purity and skill uphold the right,
You tore the sorcerers from their settled place,And led me to this good through all your grace.”
Then karnays sounded; Bishutan brought nearThe royal tent, his brother’s battle gear.
The prince’s son, Iran’s great nobles too,With troops and crown and belt, came into view.
The carcass hid the plain beneath its weight;Bloodied limbs and talons marked its fate.
From peak to peak the ground was stained with gore;Beneath its plumes, the plain was seen no more.
They saw the blood-stained prince, whose radiant faceOutshone the moon; they praised his strength and grace.
Gorgsar heard news and shook with grief and fear,And wept, his face turned livid, tear on tear.
The prince’s tent was pitched upon the ground,With valiant champions gathered all around.
They spread rich silk upon the earth to dine,Sat at the board and called for cups of wine.
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In briefGorgsar foretells a blizzard and then a waterless desert. The Iranians beg the prince to turn back and he rebukes them; snow buries the camp for three days until Bishutan’s prayer clears the sky, and the army marches on stripped of baggage.
, illustrious and strong,Called bound before the gathered throng.
He gave him three full cups of wine, and redAcross his cheeks, like blooms, the color spread.
The prince addressed him: “Evil through and through,Behold what deeds the world has brought to view.
The , lions, wolf, and dragon allBefore my arm have met their destined fall.
Who waits to bar our passage? Shall we meetWith water for the beasts and grass to eat?”
Gorgsar then raised his voice and made reply:“Famed prince, God was your helper from the sky.
The royal tree has come to fruit through you;Good fortune ripens in the deeds you do.
Tomorrow brings a task no warrior knew,No battle-hardened chief believed it true.
No or bow or sword will help you fight;No way remains for battle or for flight.
Snow, spear-deep, will descend upon your road,And strange the world will look beneath its load.
You and your famous army will be lostWithin that storm of blinding wind and frost.
No marvel if you turn your face from here;My words should not offend a prince’s ear.
You plunge your troops in blood, yet think to goAlong some other road that spares them woe.
I know that storm will sweep men from their feet,Like fruit torn from a tree when tempests beat.
And even if you cross that storm-swept plain,Thirty desert farsangs of thirst remain.
That plain is all hot rock and dust and sand;No bird can cross or stand upon that land.
No ant or locust crosses that domain;No drop of water eases thirst or pain.
The sun makes all that barren country boil;No horse can find a passage through its soil.
No vulture on swift wing can cleave that sky,No grasses clothe the rocks that bake and dry.
Like powdered , its sands will run;The earth flows loose beneath the burning sun.
For forty farsangs still your march must go,Till souls collapse and horses falter low.
The will rise upon your way;No shade will shield you from the glare of day.
The barren ground gives nourishment to none;Its mighty walls hold converse with the sun.
Outside the fortress, beasts find no supply;Your army’s mounted strength will fail and die.
If ten thousand heroes in s’ scaleFrom Iran and Turan should crowd that vale,
Besieging it a hundred years in vain,And pouring arrows on its walls like rain,
It would not count its enemies as moreThan one small knocker tapping at its door.”
The Iranians heard Gorgsar and felt pain,And said, “Noble prince, from ruin refrain.
Do not, with all your might, pursue your fall;If this is true, death waits for one and all.
We came to die in battle, not wear outOur helms; if he speaks truth, there is no doubt.
You have passed through rough roads and beasts of prey,And walked through wonders none can count today.
No warrior, no heroic Shah of old,Could number such a tale of trials told.
So, thank the Maker for all victories won,And turn back now beneath the living sun.
You may return triumphant, and your nameBefore shall shine with lasting fame.
If you should march elsewhere, Turan’s whole stateWill serve your fame and magnify your fate.
As Gorgsar said, do not hold life so cheap,Nor cast this army where the slaughtered sleep.
Now victory has brought us such renown;Do not cast life away with head and crown.”
The ’s young face grew worn and oldTo hear the counsel that his warriors told.
“You came from Iran for advice alone,Not for a lofty name to call your own.
Where are the Shah’s counsels, his gifts of gold;The belts, the saddle, and the cap you hold?
Where are the vows you swore to God on high,And to the star that blessed you in the sky?
Why have your feet grown weak upon the way?Why have your counsels scattered in dismay?
Turn back in triumph if that course seems right;I seek no pleasure but the coming fight.
This , with words, has made you turn awayFrom battle, shrinking from the coming fray.
I need no further comrades for this deed;My son and brother give me all I need.
God is my helper; Fortune rests her headWithin my lap, and I shall press ahead.
With courage, I need no one at my side;I take a life or cast my own aside.
The foe shall see what valor can command,What victory and strength lie in my hand.
You shall not lack for tidings of my fame,My royal , the splendor of my name,
And how, by strength and cunning, I have wonThat hold, by Him who rules Saturn and sun.”
The Iranians looked upon their chief’s face,And saw that wrath had darkened all its grace.
They came before him, offering excuse:“Let not the prince our anxious words accuse.
Forgive our fault, if such be your command;Our souls and bodies are within your hand.
Such has our covenant remained with you,And death alone can break our service true.
Our grief is for your life, not fear of pain;No toil or battle makes our courage wane.
So long as any chief among us stands,No man will flinch at what the fight demands.”
Their leader grieved at what his anger said,Then praised the faithful warriors he had led.
He said, “True prowess cannot stay concealed;If we return as victors from the field,
No fruit of labor shall be cast away,And treasure shall reward you all one day.”
The prince took counsel till the heat withdrew,And from the heights a gentle cool wind blew.
Then and sounded through the night,And all the army marched in ordered might.
They sped like fire along the desert road,And called on Him whose hand all life bestowed.
Then dawn rose up above the mountain height,And darkness folded back before the light.
The sun then hid its face; behind it spreadA trail of blood that stained the heavens red.
That mighty force, with armor, gorz, and spear,At last beheld the Sixth Stage drawing near.
The spring day had been glorious and fair,And gladdened every heart with fragrant air.
The prince commanded tents to crown the ground,Then food and wine were served to all around.
A fierce wind swept across the mountain zone,And chilled the prince and soldiers to the bone.
The whole world darkened like a raven’s plume,And none knew plain from height within the gloom.
The darkened mountain vanished under snow;The earth was buried under blast and blow.
For three full days and nights across the land,The wind’s wild fury swept on every hand.
The tents and their enclosures soaked straight through,And no man stood against the cold that blew.
The air was woof, the snow its warp of white;The prince stood trapped within that bitter plight.
The stricken prince called, “, draw near;This misery has overwhelmed us here.
I faced the dragon’s fumes with warrior might,But strength and manhood cannot win this fight.
Now lift your hands in prayer to God Most High;Call on His name beneath this frozen sky.
Offer Him praise, that He may turn asideThese ills beneath whose weight we now abide.
Otherwise, from this hour our lives are lost;Our strength is gone, our hopes consumed by frost.”
Then Bishutan approached Most High,Who guides the good and bad beneath the sky.
The soldiers lifted up their hands in prayer,And sent their countless cries into the air.
At once a gentle wind began to rise,And drew the clouds away from opened skies.
When heaven cleared and courage filled each breast,They stood before their Lord, their hearts at rest.
Three more days passed; when fourth-day sunlight shone,The prince called all his officers alone.
He spoke with measured counsel to the band:“Leave baggage here; take only arms in hand.
Let chiefs with a hundred pack beasts prepareThe food and water half of them must bear.
Load all the rest with stores for our upkeep;Leave here the surplus loads we need not keep.
The gate of battle opens on our way;Let no heart tremble now or turn astray.
When any man has lost all hope in God,His share of victory sinks beneath the sod.
But with God’s help we shall defeat the foe,And bring the idol-worshippers down low.
Within that fortress lie great stores of treasure,And each shall win a crown and wealth past measure.”
The sun put on its yellow robe of light;They loaded beasts and marched into the night.
As night wore on, the prince heard cranes and sentTo Gorgsar, troubled, asking what he meant:
“You said no water could be found ahead,Nor any place to rest a weary head.
Now cranes cry out above us in the sky;Why make us fear our water would run dry?”
He answered, “For your beasts, one spring lies here;It runs with salt; no sweeter source is near.
A second spring is poison; none may shareIts water, save wild beasts and birds of air.”
The prince said, “I have chosen for my guideA man who nurses hatred at my side.”
He drove the army on at greater speed,And called on God, the giver, in their need.
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In briefThe army fords a river Gorgsar swore was desert. When the captive curses him, Esfandiyar splits his head and throws him to the fish. From a height he sees the Ruyin Dezh, despairs, and kills two Turks after they describe its garrison.
When one watch of the darkened night had passed,A cry rose from the vanguard, sharp and fast.
The young prince mounted, urging on his steed,And from the center took the army’s lead.
When he had passed the troops, his eyes could seeA river fathoms deep and running free.
The driver’s leading , in the flood,Was drowning, trapped beneath the stream in mud.
The prince seized both its thighs and pulled it clear;, his enemy, looked on in fear.
The prince commanded him to come in chains;He came with fettered limbs and inward pains.
“Base villain,” said the prince, “what trick is played?Why were my men through thirst and fear betrayed?
Did you not say no water could be found,And sun would burn our bodies on the ground?
Why did you claim this water was but dust,And seek to wreck my force, betray my trust?”
Gorgsar replied, “Your army’s overthrowWould shine for me with sun and moon’s bright glow.
I gain from you but fetters, grief, and hate;What should I wish but ruin on your fate?”
The chieftain laughed, amazed by what he heard;His wrath grew no more fierce at such a word.
He said, “Gorgsar, when I have won the day,You shall command the Dezh; cast fear away.
The realm is yours if truthful words you give;No harm from me shall touch you while you live.
Your children and your kin shall rest secure;No harm from me shall any one endure.”
Gorgsar grew hopeful at the prince’s word,Then kissed the ground and begged his plea be heard.
“Your words are past,” the prince said. “Now this tideHas not turned into desert, though you lied.
Where is the ford? You must direct us right,And guide the army safely through this night.”
Gorgsar said, “Iron-bound shafts cannot soarWith point and feather to the farther shore.”
The hero, filled with wonder, gave command;They loosed his bonds and let him freely stand.
Gorgsar took up a hiyun’s rein to guideThe beast into the river’s flowing tide.
He crossed the ford; the troops came one by one,And followed on the course he had begun.
The prince bade them take waterskins; they blewAir into them to bear the army through.
The horses, light of load, were crossing fast;Into the stream the whole great army passed.
The army, beasts, and baggage crossed the tide,Then formed their left and right wings side by side.
The army marched; ten farsangs now remainedBefore the could be attained.
The prince sat down to dine, and one stood by,A servant with the wine for his supply.
Before that lion, at his word, were laidHis helm and , , and his blade.
The hero summoned Gorgsar by command;Unbound, he came before the prince to stand.
He said, “Now you are free of chains today;Let truthful words be all you have to say.
When I cut off ’s head in the fight,And fill ’s departed soul with light,
When falls, who filled the troops with pain,For , the hero he had slain,
When , who in battle slewOur thirty-eight great chiefs, receives his due,
When I avenge Lohrasp and take each head,And show what wonders through my deeds are spread,
When lions’ mouths become their burial room,And Iran’s vengeance seals the tyrants’ doom,
When arrows stitch their livers through and through,Their wives and children taken captive too,
Shall I then call you glad at such a fate,Or grieved? Conceal no thought of love or hate.”
With heart constricted, venom in his speech,Gorgsar replied, “How long will pride thus preach?
May no just blessing grace your life or breath;May every evil star command your death.
May blades divide your waist; may your form lieBlood-soaked upon the dust beneath the sky.
May earth become your bed in bitter sleep,And dust the garment you forever keep.”
Roused by those words, with wrath too fierce to hide,The prince stepped forward, anger in his stride.
With Indian sword he struck him on the head,And split him crown to breast, and left him dead.
He flung him in the river’s rushing tide,And fish consumed the traitor where he died.
Then brave mounted his steed,And bound his warrior’s belt with eager speed.
He climbed a height; Ruyin Dezh lay below,Its iron ramparts cold in endless row.
Three farsangs high, and forty broad its span;No clay or water showed to eye of man.
The wall was broad enough for horsemen, fourAbreast, to ride along its iron floor.
When he beheld that wonder, full in sight,He sighed and felt his heart grow dark as night.
He said, “No strength can take so vast a place;This wretched road has brought me this disgrace.
Alas for all our battles, toil, and pain;Regret is now the only fruit we gain.”
Two Turks were on the plain; four hounds ran near,Swift dogs that in full chase could capture deer.
His spear unhorsed them; to the height he broughtThe pair on foot, to learn the news he sought.
“What splendid hold is this? Speak what you know;How many horsemen guard its courts below?”
They told of King Arjasp, and of the heightAnd breadth of that great Hold, its iron might.
“One gate faces Iran, one Chin; insideA hundred thousand swordsmen there reside.
Renowned and proud, they serve Arjasp’s command,And bow like slaves before his ruling hand.
Should fresh grain fail, their stores will still supplyTen years of food, and never once run dry.
If the Shah asks it, Chin and yieldA hundred thousand riders for the field.
No need can force him to seek help outside;His food and fighting men are well supplied.”
With Indian sword he struck the pair and slewThose simple-hearted men who told him true.
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In briefEsfandiyar enters the Ruyin Dezh as a merchant named Kharrad, with a hundred and sixty men sealed in chests among his camels. Arjasp grants him a house and a shop, laughs off rumors that the prince is crossing the Seven Stages, and bids him trade freely.
He then returned within his guarded tent,And from the council all the strangers sent.
Then came in and took his seat,To speak of war and how the foes might meet.
The warrior said, “We might assault in vainThis hold for years, with only loss and pain,
Unless I now accept a lowlier role,And try some cunning plan to reach my goal.
Keep watch here at all hours with steady care,And guard the army from the hostile snare.
A man is worthy of a lofty throneWho fears no hostile army on his own,
Who fears no leopard on the mountainside,Nor dread within the waters wide,
But works by craft, then force, as need is found,Now climbing high, now moving near the ground.
I shall approach the fortress in disguise,A merchant, hidden from all watching eyes.
Each book of learning I shall search and read,And gather every snare and plot I need.
Keep scouts and watchmen always on the way;Let knowledge guide you, lest your judgment stray.
If smoke by day should meet the watchman’s sight,Or fire by night should blaze with sunlight’s might,
Then know that I have kindled that bright brand;That flame is mine; no trick of hostile hand.
Array the troops and lead them out; let eachBear , helm, and within his reach.
Raise up my flag without the least delay,And set the troops at center in array.
Drive on with ox-head gorz, and deal such blowsThat you seem to all your foes.”
He called the cameleer and bade him stayBefore Bishutan, kneeling, to obey:
“Bring me a hundred camels, strong to bear,All red of coat, with proud and handsome air.”
Ten camels bore gold dinars in the train;Five, Chin brocade; five, gems of every vein.
A golden throne and crown were loaded too,Among the precious stones of every hue.
He brought forth eighty pairs of covered chests,With hidden fastenings, for their hidden guests.
He chose eight score of mighty men, well tried,Who would not let his secret plans spread wide.
He hid them in the chests with careful art,Then bound the baggage fast for them to start.
He chose some twenty chiefs, discreet and strong,His proud swordsmen, to bring the train along.
He set those chiefs to guide the laden train,As cameleers, each with a camel’s rein.
With shoes upon his feet, a coarse wool gown,He went as one who sought no warrior’s crown.
With jewels, gold, and silver packed for trade,He neared the Dezh, his merchant’s role well played.
He led the way; when camel bells rang round,The Dezh’s chief men came hurrying to the sound.
They talked at length, grew eager, and began:“A merchant comes, a most unusual man.
He sells for silver wares that are worth gold.”So through the fortress ran the story told.
The dealers and the nobles came to buy,And asked, “What precious goods within these lie?”
He answered, “First I need to see your king,And spread before him all I came to bring.
When he commands, my wealth I shall display,And bring its splendor to the light of day.”
He set the camel cargo down, then wentTo seek the king and further his intent.
He took a horse, two robes of Chin brocade,Whose brilliant sleeves their woven art displayed.
He took a bowl of gems, a royal hoard,And coins of gold to scatter for the lord.
Silk veiled the bowl; above, below, he spreadBoth musk and , fragrant on the thread.
In fine brocade, perfumed, he sought the king,With all the gifts his cunning bade him bring.
Before the king he scattered coins of gold,Then spoke as one whose wares were bought and sold:
“May wisdom ever grace the king’s command;I am a merchant, trading through the land.
My father was a Turk; my mother cameOf noble stock, a house of honored name.
In Turan I buy goods, then take my gainBy trade in Iran or the warriors’ plain.
A camel train of merchandise I bring,With cloth and gems and many a costly thing,
With jewels, crowns, and perfumes rich and rare;I seek out buyers for the goods I bear.
I left my goods outside ’s gate,Assured your care would guard them from ill fate.
If you permit the cameleers to leadThe caravan inside, you meet my need.
Your fortune keeps me free of all alarm;Your loving shadow shelters me from harm.”
replied, “Be happy and secure;No harm within Turan shall you endure.
And should you journey on, have no more fear;In Chin or , you are safe as here.”
In Ruyin Dezh he bade the merchant dwell,His gold secure, and all protected well:
A spacious house, a shop before the court,Where he could trade and have the king’s support.
With chests upon their backs, they brought the train,Each with a hand upon a camel’s rein.
A thoughtful man approached: “What lies concealedWithin those chests you carry, tightly sealed?”
The carrier replied, “We bear our fate;Upon our shoulders death has laid its weight.”
Esfandiyar arranged his wares to bringHis shop to bloom with colors like the spring.
On every side the eager buyers sprang,And through the place the din of trading rang.
The night went by; at dawn the prince arose,And toward the palace walked in merchant’s clothes.
He kissed the ground before Arjasp’s high seat,And praised him with a merchant’s words discreet:
“My cameleers and I have crossed the plain;Through dust and toil we brought the laden train.
The crowns and bracelets in them well may graceA sovereign king of your illustrious race.
Let him who keeps your treasury see the store,And choose what suits its wealth; I ask no more.
I shall rejoice in anything you take;A king’s acceptance crowns the gifts I make.
The merchant’s part is only praise and prayer,And humble thanks beneath a monarch’s care.”
Arjasp then smiled on him and showed him grace,And set him in a more distinguished place.
He asked his name; the prince concealed his aim,And answered him, “, my lord, by name.”
The king replied, “Good merchant, be at ease;Come freely here whenever you may please.
My doors stand open; enter without fear.”He asked what news the merchant chanced to hear.
Of both realms’ troops, he asked, and travel’s pain;The prince replied, “Five months we crossed the plain.”
The king then asked what Iran’s people sayOf Esfandiyar and on the way.
He said, “My lord, men speak as rumors guide:Some say, in anger, he his sire defied.
Some say, from he led his forceTo take the Seven Stages as his course,
To fight in Turan, where his purpose lay,And make Arjasp for all his wrongs now pay.”
Arjasp laughed: “No man grown wise and oldWould credit such a tale as you have told.
Should any vulture cross the Stages’ span,Then call me , no mortal man!”
The prince bent down and kissed the royal floor,Then left in joy and passed the palace door.
He opened up his shop to sell and buy;The fortress rang with every merchant’s cry.
He traded on; for wares worth gold, his priceWas one small silver coin, which would suffice.
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In briefAt dusk the captive princesses come to the merchant’s gate with water jars. Esfandiyar shouts abuse to hide himself, but Homahyi knows his voice; he uncovers his face, swears them to silence, then wins Arjasp’s leave to feast the Turkish chiefs on the rampart.
The sun went down; the buyers went away,And trade was ended for another day.
His sisters left the palace, weeping, worn,With jars of water on their shoulders borne.
Heartbroken, bowed beneath affliction’s weight,They came in shame before the merchant’s gate.
When saw their grief draw near,He hid his face from them, his heart in fear.
Their plight had filled his heart with deep dismay;Beneath his coarse wool gown he hid away.
Two streams of bloody tears ran down each face,As both drew near him in their deep disgrace.
The hapless women questioned him and said,“O wealthy merchant, fortune crown your head.
May all your days and nights be prosperous still,And nobles gladly serve your sovereign will.
Of Iran, , what news can you tell?And Esfandiyar; is our brother well?
We two, the daughters of the king of kings,Are captives here, deprived of royal things.
Barefoot, unveiled, in wicked men’s command,We carry water through this hostile land.
Our father has glad days and peaceful nights,While we go shamed beneath the strangers’ sights.
Blessed is she whose shroud conceals her shame,Beyond the public gaze and all its blame.
The tears we shed are blood from inward pain;Become our healer, and relieve our bane.
If you have any news of home to share,Your words may heal the poison of despair.”
Beneath his robe he gave a sudden shout;Both sisters shook with fear as it rang out.
“May Esfandiyar die, and perish tooWhoever speaks his name, as now you do.
May unjust Goshtasb also meet that end;May crown and belt no king like him attend.
Do you not see I trade to earn my bread?I work to keep myself supplied and fed.”
knew his voice; the sound brought peace,And gave her anxious heart a brief release.
Yet though she knew him by his voice alone,She kept that knowledge hidden and unknown.
She stood before him stricken by her pain,And let her tears descend like pouring rain.
Her clothes were torn, her feet were in the dust,Her soul afraid of ’s wrath unjust.
The watchful prince perceived that Homahyi knew,And from beneath his veil his face he drew.
His eyes were wet, his heart with blood oppressed;His sunlike face revealed his soul’s unrest.
He marveled at the world’s relentless grip,And in his bitter anger bit his lip.
He said, “My sisters, keep our secret sealed;For these few days, let nothing be revealed.
I came for war, through hardship, to reclaimOur honor and to wipe away our shame.
The daughters carry water, the son weeps;Their father, free of sorrow, sweetly sleeps.
Let sky be father, earth be mother here;Give no such times your blessing or your cheer.”
He left the shop, and to Arjasp he raced:“May life and joy be yours, by fortune graced.
A deep sea lay along the road I went,Unknown to merchants in its vast extent.
Then from the sea a violent wind arose,And left us fearing how our lives would close.
The boatman said, ‘I never saw its peer’;We all were wretched, sick with mortal fear.
Aboard, we wept; our terror mounted higher,As though our bodies roasted on fierce fire.
I swore by God, the only Judge and Guide:If I escape alive from storm and tide,
Then in each realm where any monarch reigns,I shall hold feasts, released from all these pains.
I shall give gifts to everyone who calls,And honor every beggar in my halls.
Now let the monarch lend a gracious ear,And grant the heartfelt plea I offer here.
I wish to bid your foremost chiefs attend,The men whose deeds and prowess you commend.
This feast will bring my troubled heart release,And grant my soul its ornament of peace.”
Arjasp was pleased; his head with wind was filled,His foolish pride by all these honors thrilled.
He bade the nobles and the men of fameAttend the feast held in the merchant’s name.
“If he gives wine, then drink and take your fill,And feast with freely at your will.”
The prince replied, “O king of noble birth,Wise ruler, sovereign of the spacious earth,
My house is small; your hall is grand and high;Let us feast on the rampart, near the sky.
Now summer is upon us; fires shall flare,And wine shall free your honored chiefs from care.”
Arjasp replied, “Sit where it suits you best;Within the palace, you shall be my guest.”
The joyful went back and stackedGreat loads of wood upon the roof, close-packed.
They slaughtered horses, lambs, and bore the meatUp to the fortress roof for all to eat.
The wood he heaped upon the fortress heightSent smoke that hid the very sky from sight.
When all had eaten, then he brought the wine,And had it served to all who came to dine.
The nobles left, all drunken, with a sprayOf fair narcissus carried on their way.
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In briefEsfandiyar’s bonfire on the rampart signals Bishutan, who brings up the army carrying his brother’s gorz and banner and passing for the prince. Bahman kills Turk-Khan, Kuhram is driven back to the walls, and Arjasp sends out the Turks to fight.
Night came; the prince lit fire upon the height;Its heat seemed to consume the sky that night.
The watchman from the lookout saw the blaze,And all the air was filled with smoky haze.
He hurried back, with joy upon his face,As though he and the wind were in a race.
He told him all he saw of flame and fume;And replied amid the gloom:
“What lion could with brave men’s guile compare?What elephant could match the craft they bear?”
Bronze s rang; brass tabiras replied,And horns resounded far and wide.
The army crossed the plain to the Dezh’s wall;Its dust rose high and hid the sun from all.
All troops wore armor, helms upon each head;From every heart a rain of blood was shed.
News filled the Dezh: “A mighty force draws near;The world is dust, the face of day unclear.”
The Hold rang out with ’s name;Woe’s tree bore bitter gourds as trouble came.
put on his , rubbed his hands,And gave the lion-catcher his commands.
“Take troops,” he said, “take and sword and shaft.”He called to , versed in battlecraft:
“And you, Turk-Khan, proud chief, ride out in pride;Take twelve full thousand warriors at your side.
Choose famous men, well tested in the field;Discover who has come with sword and shield.
Learn what they seek by riding out this way,What purpose brings this army to the fray.”
Turk-Khan went out, an interpreter near,To view the troops in all their battle gear.
He saw their jowshans, ready for attack,A leopard blazoned on a flag of black.
Bishutan held the center of the band;His warriors stood with blood on every hand.
He bore Esfandiyar’s own gorz, and placedUpon a famed warhorse, the foemen faced.
He seemed Esfandiyar himself, no less;They called him Shah of Iran in the press.
He formed his wings to left and right; the airGrew thick with dust that dimmed the daylight’s glare.
Bright diamond spearheads struck in such a rain,That clouds of crimson seemed to drench the plain.
Both armies moved together toward the fight,Each warrior eager for the clash of might.
Then , the swordsman, galloped out,And challenged all Turan with ringing shout.
Turk-Khan rode out to strike his foe down dead,And cast upon the dust his severed head.
When saw him on the battlefield,He drew his sword, its naked steel revealed.
He then split Turk-Khan in two at the waist; felt grief and dread at what he faced.
Bahman charged through the center; rank and nameMeant nothing; lord and trooper were the same.
Thus army clashed with army in the fray;Black clouds of dust obscured the light of day.
Kuhram flew before the Iranian force,And drove his troops along their homeward course.
He said, “O famous monarch, crowned with light,A mighty force from Iran comes to fight.
Its leader shines among the warriors’ throng,Like Esfandiyar in form and stature strong.
None like him ever reached this fortress wall;He holds the spear that you may well recall.
He holds the very spear you saw him wieldAt , upon the fortress field.”
The words distressed Arjasp and stirred old feud;He sent the Turks forth in a wrathful mood.
“Out to the plain! Surround them, one and all,And let the raging lion sound your call.
Leave none alive; erase their very name,Let no man speak of them or spread their fame!”
They marched with wounded hearts toward the fray,And thirst for vengeance drove them on their way.
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In briefAt night Esfandiyar opens the chests, sends his sisters to safety, storms the palace and kills Arjasp hand to hand. He seals the treasure, rides out with his hundred and sixty men, and leaves orders to cast Arjasp’s head from the wall.
As darkness deepened, he prepared to fight;He donned his battle armor in the night.
He raised the chest-lids so that air could flowTo those concealed and hidden from the foe.
He brought them roasted meat and wine to share,With battle gear and clothing fit to wear.
When they had eaten, each received full measure,Three cups of wine, which filled their hearts with pleasure.
He said, “This night brings danger; win your name,For deeds done here may earn us lasting fame.
Show all your strength; stand fast, what may befall,And make your refuge over all.”
From those bold warriors tested for the deed,He formed three bands according to his need.
The first he sent within the stronghold’s heart,To fight all those they met in every part.
He sent the second band to hold the gate,And bade them let no clash of arms abate.
He told the third band, “None must live or flee;Not one who drank wine last night here with me.
Let not a trace remain when they are dead;Take up your s; sever every head.”
With twenty valiant men he took his way,And gave the rest their charge without delay.
He roared in , lion loosed for fight,And reached ’s great palace in the night.
heard the tumult through the hall,And with hurried at the call.
Blood-tears had veiled their faces as they nearedTheir brother, who before them now appeared.
He saw his two veiled sisters, fresh as spring,And spoke of what this night of war might bring:
“Run swift as dust before the wind,” he cried;“Go to my market quarters; leave my side.
My gold and silver lie within that store;Go to my quarters; stay with me no more.
Avoid this fight, whatever lies ahead,Whether I win the crown or lose my head.”
He turned from them, his purpose fixed and clear,And stormed the inner palace without fear.
He entered with an Indian sword in hand,And cut down nobles of the royal band.
The audience chamber of that storied courtWas choked with dead of every rank and sort.
With wounded, crushed, and slaughtered men around,A troubled sea now seemed to flood the ground.
Arjasp awoke, alarmed by all the din,And rose in fury at the clash within.
In Roman helm and jowshan all arrayed,He gripped his khanjar with its gleaming blade.
With battle fury burning in his breast,He roared aloud, by blood and wrath possessed.
From palace halls brave sprang,His Indian sword held ready as steel rang.
He cried, “This merchant brings the wares long due:A blade of vengeance, sharp and proven true.
This gift from bears a royal seal;’s own mark upon its deadly steel.”
They closed in savage combat, blade to blade,And sword-strokes rang where death already played.
At waist and head they struck with blow on blow,Till fierce Arjasp’s attack grew faint and slow.
No part of him was whole; he streamed with gore,His elephant-like bulk fell to the floor.
Then Esfandiyar struck off Arjasp’s head,And with it lay his empire’s power dead.
Such is the turning of the worldly wheel:Now sweetness, now the poison we must feel.
Why bind your heart to what must fade and go?Spare yourself toil; you cannot stay, you know.
With Arjasp slain, his uproar rose so highIt reached to Saturn in the distant sky.
He ordered candles lit; their flames shone brightThroughout the palace, filling it with light.
He left the harem in a servant’s care,And took its light away, and left it bare.
He set his seal upon the treasure door;No rival stood against him anymore.
He mounted, Indian sword still in his hand;Choice Arab steeds were saddled for his band.
He gave his sisters horses, then withdrewThrough Arjasp’s gate with all his chosen few.
From Dezh eight score of chosen riders came,All tried in war, all resolute in aim.
He left the gate in noble ’s care,With several of Iran’s chiefs to share.
He said, “Bar Turks from entry once I go;When you judge I have reached our force below,
Cry from the lookout, ‘May King Goshtasb’s crownAnd head be blessed!’ Let that great shout ring down.
When fleeing Turks rush headlong toward this tower,Cast down Arjasp’s head to break their power.”
He swept the field and brought the Turks down low;Then joined his brother’s troops, who faced the foe.
praised him; all his warriors gazedUpon such youthful courage, left amazed.
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In briefThe watchman proclaims Arjasp dead and his head is thrown from the rampart; the Turks break. Esfandiyar runs Kuhram down, tears him from the saddle, hangs him and Andariman head-down at the gate, and burns the cities of Turan.
When the pale moon sank from her silver throne,And three long watches of the dark had flown,
The watchman shouted loudly from the height,“ is Shah, with fortune burning bright.
May young forever stand,With sky and moon and fortune at his hand.
Avenging old , his sword has shedProud ’s blood and struck away his head.
He cast the king to dust and raised on highGoshtasb’s great name and banner to the sky.”
The Turks all heard; grew dark at heart,Struck cold by those loud cries and fear’s sharp dart.
He said to , “Cries at nightCannot be hidden; what has caused this plight?
What do you think? Who dares beside the kingTo raise his voice and make the darkness ring?
Send men to find him out and take his head,Whoever calls such omens, spreading dread.
If watchmen play such games while battles rage,Our chiefs will face a peril hard to gauge.
If one within our household serves the foe,And strengthens hostile hearts with words of woe,
Then with an iron we break his brain,And make him answer for this traitorous strain.”
The watchman’s cry went on and would not cease;Kuhram’s fierce anger found no inward peace.
The cries from every side assailed their ears,And filled the listening nobles with new fears.
The soldiers said, “These cries exceed all bounds;The watchman fills the night with dreadful sounds.
First drive the foe within our walls away;Then find a way to face their troops’ array.”
Kuhram felt anguish tighten in his breast,And fear of what had happened gave no rest.
He told the troops, “The king’s affairs cause grief;This army’s plight allows me no relief.
We must return at once, without delay;I cannot tell what follows from this fray.”
At once they left the field in haste and fear;Then mailed Esfandiyar came thundering near.
With ox-head gorz he followed where they fled,His armor on, his foes still just ahead.
When Kuhram reached the gateway, looking back,He saw Iran’s troops following his track.
He cried, “What choice remains, but to engageThe brave Esfandiyar in battle’s rage?
Draw all your swords; let blades convey our word,And let the ’s message now be heard.”
But fortune frowned; those chiefs met evil fate,And every hope of victory came too late.
The armies struck each other through the fray;The chiefs of Chin met doom at break of day.
Then from the Dezh the warriors hurled belowArjasp’s cut head, blood-darkened by the blow.
They flung the head of him who slew Lohrasp;A Turkish wail rose high for King Arjasp.
With helmets lifted off, they ceased the fight,And grief engulfed the troops at that grim sight.
Arjasp’s two sons wept in that dreadful hour,As though fierce fire had caught them in its power.
The army knew whose work had brought such woe,And whom to mourn amid that overthrow.
They cried, “O generous king, our valiant chief,Our hero and , mourned in grief!
May he who slew you perish by the blade;May all his days be dark, his hopes betrayed.
To whom shall we entrust our baggage train?Whose flag shall on the army’s right remain?
Since now the center lacks its royal head,Let crown and army perish with the dead!”
From to , grief filled the land;Now death was all that army could demand.
In s, helms, with gorzes raised on high,They all advanced, prepared at last to die.
The battlefield rang loud with war and cries;The dust rose thick and blotted out the skies.
The slain lay everywhere in heaps around,And severed heads and limbs choked all the ground.
Here severed hands and gorzes lay in gore;Blood surged in waves against the fortress door.
No man could tell the left hand from the right;All blurred in dust and blood throughout the fight.
Esfandiyar pressed through the fierce attack;Kuhram stood firm and would not be forced back.
Those warriors grappled with such force and strain,They seemed one body locked in rage and pain.
The peerless chief seized Kuhram by the waist,And by his belt he raised him, firmly braced.
He dashed him to the earth with dreadful sound,While Iran’s warriors praised him all around.
They bound his hands and bore him off in shame;His troops dispersed; no help from them now came.
Then gorzes fell like hail; the earth belowWas strewn with shattered helmets, row on row.
The air grew thick with death; beneath the swordsHeads showered like leaves amid the charging hordes.
One shed his blood; another gained a throne;Blood dashed in billows over field and stone.
Here heads were trampled, there were heads crowned high;Fate speaks no word to tell us how or why.
Those who had mounts went fleeing from the fray;The dragon’s maw held others as its prey.
No help availed; their struggle brought them pain;Few Turks or men of Chin would now remain.
They cast off helms and jowshans, eyes blood-red;No name was spoken of the few who fled.
Before the prince they ran, their tears like rainThat springtime showers pour across the plain.
The bloodthirsty chieftain abused his power;His troops rejoiced in cruelty that hour.
He gave no quarter in that bloody strife,And had the wounded stripped at once of life.
No king in Turan now retained his throne;In Chin no chief remained whose name was known.
They moved the camp and all the royal tents,And left the field to corpses and laments.
With good and ill revealed, the prince then wentBeside the fortress wall and pitched his tent.
He raised two lofty gibbets by the wall;From them he let the twisted nooses fall.
Head-down, Andariman hung at the gate;His brother Kuhram shared his gallows fate.
He sent his troops wherever chiefs were found,And ordered fire to ravage all around.
They wrecked the cities of Turan with flame;No man was left who bore a noble name.
In Chin and Turan none remained to ride;No warrior’s name survived on either side.
As though a black cloud gathered overhead,It rained down fire upon the field of dead.
The prince saw how the struggle had been won;He called the chiefs and drank, his labor done.
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In briefEsfandiyar has a dispatch written to his father reporting the stratagem, Arjasp’s death and the slaughter. Goshtasb answers with praise, an image of Fereydoon’s tree, warnings to guard his life and show mercy, and an order to bring his chiefs to court.
called forth a scribe to write,And told of cunning ploys and of the fight.
The scribe sat on the throne and called for these:A pen and silk, both Turkish and Chinese.
He dipped his pen; its tip grew black as night,Then praised who gives the moon its light.
Yazdan of Saturn, Venus, and the sun,Of ant and elephant, the mighty One.
Yazdan of victory and divine,Of crown imperial and the royal sign,
Yazdan of soul and reason, whom we praise,Who grants us good and guides us on our ways.
He wrote, “May ’s joy be ever bright;May earth still shine with ’s name and light.
I reached Turan along a bitter road;Its grief would make youth bend beneath the load.
If I told all, young hair would turn to white,Yet when the Shah commands, I shall recite.
His face will gladden me and bring reliefFrom all the burden of this lasting grief.
I used my cunning ploys to gain releaseFrom vengeance, till my heart could rest in peace.
and now are there no more;The Hold is grief and wailing to its core.
I spared no life; the grass across the plainBore heads for fruit among the countless slain.
On human brains the lions and wolves feast;The leopard seeks but hearts, that mighty beast.
May Goshtasb’s crown light heaven with its glow;May earth grow roses for Lohrasp below.”
They set Esfandiyar’s seal upon the scroll,And chose fast riders, firm in heart and soul.
Swift bore his riders, foaming white,Toward Iran with the letter in their flight.
He quenched the evil-wisher’s burning flame,And waited till the royal answer came.
Before long came the answer, like a keyTo loose the bonds of ill and set him free.
The letter opened: “Blessed be the oneWhose path is just, whose righteous work is done.
The wise man knows Yazdan; with grateful praise,He thanks Him for the goodness of His ways.
I pray to God, the one whose ways are just,To guide your steps; in Him I place my trust.
No Tree planted bore more fruitThan mine in Paradise, where it took root.
Its fruit is rubies, red, and gleaming gold;Its leaves are beauty, farr in every fold.
May this Tree live forever, fresh and new;May joy and happy fortune stay with you.
First, you declared: ‘By counsel, craft, and strife,I sought revenge for my grandfather’s life.’
Second, of blood you shed, you made it knownHow you engaged in battle all alone:
The lives of kings are precious; lasting fameDoes not arise from war and battle’s flame.
Guard well your person, and your wisdom too;Through knowledge, wisdom feeds the soul in you.
Third, you declared: ‘Of all that mounted force,I spared no life throughout the battle’s course.’
Let mercy keep your heart from growing cold;Let modesty within your soul take hold.
Speak gently; do not live by blood and rage,Nor rashly with the chiefs in war engage.
The blood you shed for brothers, thirty-eight,Has passed all bounds in vengeance for their fate.
And then your aged grandfather, whose mindHad left all evil and deceit behind:
They shed his blood; you shed theirs in the fight,Like warrior lions in their wrath and might.
May you be happy, blessed in all you do;May wisdom be a teacher guiding you.
I long to see your face; in you I findThat wakeful soul where wisdom is enshrined.
When you have read this letter, mount your men,And bring your chiefs to join my court again.”
Swift from the royal gate the hiyun sped;Throughout Iran the news was quickly spread.
The hiyun riders came again to bringThe prince the written answer of the king.
He read the letter; dinars left his hand,And he made ready, as the king had planned.
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In briefEsfandiyar loads the plunder, burns the Ruyin Dezh and levels its walls, sends his sons ahead with the treasure, recrosses the stages and is feasted in Iran. Ferdowsi closes with spring, a nightingale, and mourning for Esfandiyar.
He kept ’s own treasure set aside,But gave his kinsmen’s riches far and wide.
The warriors prospered through the gifts he gave,Bestowed by one so generous and brave.
Horses and camels stood on hill and plain,All branded for the Turan chief’s domain.
Ten thousand camels now were foundFrom heights and valleys, all the country round.
He bade a thousand camels carry gold,The royal dinars from Arjasp’s stronghold.
Three hundred more bore thrones and rich brocade,With royal crowns upon their loads arrayed.
Five score bore musk and ambergris and gems;Five score bore royal crowns and diadems.
A thousand carried tapestries of state,Brocaded, rich, and costly in their freight.
Three hundred carried clothes of Chin, and fineTheir fur and sable, silk of rich design.
He furnished litters, splendidly arrayed,And draped them with the richest silk brocade.
From Chin he carried two full troops of maids,With spring-bright cheeks, tall cypresses in glades.
Their waists were slender, and their steps as fleetAs pheasants moving lightly on their feet.
A hundred beauties, women of renown,Accompanied his sisters from the town.
Five women of Arjasp’s own royal raceWere taken too from that defeated place:
His mother and two daughters wept in pain;His sisters, two, went grieving in their train.
At last he fired the ’s proud wall;Its tongues of flame rose heavenward over all.
He razed the ramparts level with the ground,And shook all Chin as dust rose all around.
He gave his three young sons troops for the road,And said, “Keep watch upon the treasure-load.
If any turn from justice on your way,Cut off their heads with s; do not stay.
Take now the desert road; bear spears that gleamAs brightly as the sun’s resplendent beam.
I shall return through all the Stages Seven,To hunt the lion under open heaven.
Do not delay; I take the road ahead;We meet when next the month begins,” he said.
Then brave , with troops renowned,Rode toward the Stages, seeking hunting ground.
He reached the stage where snow and cold had reigned,And saw the baggage he had left remained.
The air was sweet, the earth with green was dressed;Though summer ruled, spring lingered in its breast.
He gathered up the goods and pondered fate,Amazed to find them in their former state.
He neared Iran, the home of men of might,Of lions and of heroes tried in fight.
He spent two weeks with hawks and cheetahs, thoughThe journey’s weariness still weighed him low.
He watched and waited for his noble sons,And anger rose against the tardy ones.
But when the armies and his sons appeared,His face grew bright; his former anger cleared.
He said, “The road I traveled was severe;Your long delay has vexed me, waiting here.”
The three sons kissed the ground with filial care,And said, “What father can with you compare?”
He took the treasure onward with his bandTo Iran, to the warriors of that land.
The people decked their cities to rejoice,With harp and wine and music’s lifted voice.
They draped the walls with hangings rich and fair,And scattered musk and ambergris through the air.
The air was filled with music all around;Spear-bearing horsemen crowded all the ground.
made merry when the news was known,And drank to those glad tidings from his throne.
He summoned all the chiefs throughout the land,And all the great who held the troops’ command.
With standards raised, tabiras rolled aloud,The chiefs rode out to meet him in a crowd.
His father too, with men of learning wise,Went out with in shining guise.
Then Goshtasb came to greet him with delight,And all the city spoke of that glad sight.
When Esfandiyar beheld his father’s face,His heart grew joyful at that welcome grace.
He spurred his night-black horse, whose fiery strideCould set the blaze of battle spreading wide.
He came and clasped his father, holding tight;His father marveled at that wondrous sight.
He blessed him: “May the earth and time remainForever graced by you and by your reign.”
Then to the Shah’s great palace they returned,While all the world with goodwill toward him burned.
Goshtasb adorned the throne and palace bright;His son’s good fortune filled him with delight.
They spread the tables; to the chief he said,“Invite the nobles to the feast we spread.”
The drinkers came from every hall to meetThe Shah and join him at his royal seat.
In crystal cups the royal wine shone bright;The server, like the sun, was filled with light.
The faces of his friends were all aglow;His foes’ hearts burned with anguish and with woe.
The son drank to his father, free of boast;His father answered with an equal toast.
He asked about the Stages: “Now relateYour deeds before the nobles of our state.”
Esfandiyar replied, “Not now, not here;Let us not tell these tales amid our cheer.
Tomorrow, sober, we shall all recountThose ancient tales, a true and full account.
Then you shall hear, wise king of men, and ownThat God has triumphed by His power alone.”
Each guest withdrew when wine had loosed his mind,A moon-faced beauty’s hand with his entwined.
The tale of all the Seven Stages ends;My youthful spirit still its strength extends.
The just God gave me power to sing this song, to whom both sun and moon belong.
If this should please the Shah, I shall have boundA saddle on the heavens turning round.
Upon the Shah’s soul may all blessings fall;May sudden grief not touch his heart at all.
Now drink good wine; the stream sends through the airA scent of musk, sweet fragrance everywhere.
How happy he with coin and bread to keep,With sweets and wine, who slaughters his own sheep.
I have no such supplies; good luck to thoseWho do! Have mercy on the poor man’s woes.
The gardens bloom with roses, row on row;On hills, the tulips and the hyacinths grow.
The sleepless bird sings; roses swell in bloom,And shake in wind and rain through night-time gloom.
I see the wind and moisture from the sky;Why should the pale narcissus droop and sigh?
The nightingale laughs on, and on the whiteRose opens up its beak in song’s delight.
I cannot tell: does rose or cloud love more?For from the cloud I hear a lion’s roar.
The garment tears; a hidden fire is shown,Its flashing flames like lightning outward thrown.
Earth bears the sky’s tears, testimony clearBefore the sun, the ruler of the sphere.
At dawn, hear beneath the rose;What is the grief its mourning notes disclose?
For dead Esfandiyar it mourns in pain;Of him, only its cries of grief remain.
Like ’s voice, the cloud roars through the night,And tears the lions’ hearts and ears with fright.
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In briefDrunk and bitter, Esfandiyar tells his mother he means to claim the crown his father promised, and dismisses her counsel with a proverb against women. When the demand reaches Goshtasb, Jamasp reads the charts: the prince will die in Zabulistan by Rostam’s hand.
I heard a story from the nightingale,Recited from the ancient heroic tale.
came from the king that night,Drunk and dejected, far from all delight.
His mother , of ’s race,Had held him closely in her warm embrace.
In darkness, waking from his wine-dark rest,He called for wine and spoke what filled his breast.
He told his mother, “I have suffered wrong;The Shah has kept my rightful crown too long.
He said, ‘When you avenge the kingOn King , and home in triumph bring
Your sisters, freed from bondage and from shame,And raise throughout the world my royal name,
And purge the earth of wickedness and hate,And labor to renew its ordered state,
Then realm and army shall become your own,With treasure, crown, and high imperial throne.’
When dawn returns to wake the Shah from sleep,I shall ask for the pledge he swore to keep.
I shall repeat his words and make him hear;He shall not hide the truth when I draw near.
But if he breaks his pledge and turns me down,By God who props the sky, I take the crown.
I shall be crowned and let Iran commandThe realm; its people shall possess the land.
As Iran’s lady, you shall rule in might;With strength and courage, I, like lions, fight.”
His mother sorrowed when she heard him speak;Silk turned to thorns against her breast and cheek.
She knew the famous Shah would never giveThe throne and crown by which great monarchs live.
She said, “My son, so worn by grief and pain,What more could any royal heart obtain?
You have command and counsel, troops and gold;Seek nothing more than what you have to hold.
Your father has no portion but the crown;You hold the troops, the realm, the world’s renown.
When he departs, the throne will pass to you,With crown and fortune, as is justly due.
What better for a lion than to standBefore his father, girded for command?”
Esfandiyar replied, “How fine and clearThe sage’s saying sounds within the ear:
‘Tell women nothing secret; what you sayWill find you in the streets another day.
Nor do the thing that women counsel you;No woman gives good counsel, sound and true.’”
His mother frowned, ashamed of what she said;She wished she had kept silent there instead.
But he did not go stand at ’s side;With wine and minstrels he remained inside.
Two days and nights he drained the cup of wine,And with his moon-faced women would recline.
The third day brought the tidings to the throne:The prince now sought the crown to call his own.
Goshtasb learned the prince would not give up his claim,And that he sought both the crown and the name.
He called and those who read the skies,Lohrasp’s diviners, men of counsel wise.
They brought their star-tables at his request;The Shah inquired, his spirit much oppressed:
“Will brave Esfandiyar have length of days?Will peace and fortune crown his royal ways?
Will he be crowned, and will his royal reignEndure, the crown upon his head remain?”
Jamasp, the sage of Iran, heard and readThe ancient charts, his heart grown sick with dread.
His lashes filled with tears; his troubled browWas drawn by all his knowledge told him now.
He said, “My days are ill, my stars are ill;My knowledge pours misfortune on me still.
Would fate had cast me to the lion’s powerBefore brave ’s last and dreadful hour.
Then I would not have seen him lying lowIn dust, his breast all blood from battle’s blow.
Would that my father’s hand had struck me dead,Before ill fortune gathered round my head.
Although Esfandiyar has earned great fame,And tears the lion’s heart from out its frame,
Though he has swept the world of hostile might,And fears no foe or fury in the fight,
Though he secured the world from evil’s crew,And split the dragon’s body clean in two,
Hereafter we shall mourn his bitter fate,And drink our fill of sorrow, soon or late.”
The Shah exclaimed, “O sage, the truth declare;Do not withhold your knowledge in despair.
If he shall fall as noble Zarir fell,Then life for me will be a living hell.
Speak now; my questioning has filled my breastWith bitter anguish, leaving me no rest.
Whose hand will slay him? Tell me from whose blowThese bitter tears and all this sorrow flow.”
Jamasp replied, “Will grief not fall on me,O king, when I reveal what I foresee?
In Zabulistan comes his final breath;The son of shall put him there to death.”
The Shah replied, “Then think on this affair:If I resign the crown for him to wear,
If throne and treasure pass beneath his rule,No fatal road shall lead him to .
No man in Kabulistan shall know his face;He will not travel through that distant place.
Will he be safe from time’s revolving power?Will kindly stars direct his fateful hour?”
Jamasp replied, “Can strength or wisdom defyThe sharp-clawed Dragon of the wheeling sky?
What must be comes; no wisdom can delayThe time appointed for our final day.
A great man’s hand may bring his final sleep,Or else may come while he sleeps deep.”
The Shah’s heart filled with thoughts that would not cease;His soul became a thicket, stripped of peace.
His evil thoughts and time’s relentless turningTogether schooled his heart in evil’s learning.
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In briefBefore the court Esfandiyar recites his service: the oath against the idol-worshippers, the battle with Arjasp, the chains his father put on him, the Seven Stages, the sisters brought home. He ends by asking what pretext is left for withholding the throne.
When night had gathered up its reins and gone,And dawn’s bright spear across the sky was drawn,
Upon his golden throne the Shah sat straight;The prince approached, his grievance to relate.
He stood, arms folded, like a humble slave,His mind weighed down by thought, his spirit grave.
When chiefs and warriors filled the royal hall,With priests and captains ranked before them all,
, that mighty prince and chief,Began to speak and pour forth all his grief.
He said, “O Shah, live evermore; the earthThrough you receives God’s and royal worth.
Through you both love and justice stand confessed,And crown and throne with majesty are blessed.
I am your servant, bound to do your will,And swift to act and serve your purpose still.
You know came riding forth to fightAgainst the Faith, with Chin’s assembled might.
I swore those solemn oaths, and held them dear;I heeded God’s commands, both firm and clear:
If any man should cast the Faith asideFor idols, with its holy truth denied,
My splits him at the waist in two;I fear no man in what I swear to do.
When fierce Arjasp advanced to join the fight,No lion or leopard turned me back in fright.
I made the battlefield a graveyard then;No saddle held a rider of his men.
Yet at ’s request, amid your cheer,You shamed me while you drank at the banquet here.
You bound me fast with chains of iron weight,And blacksmiths’ spikes secured my captive state.
To you sent me in that plight,In strangers’ hands, disgraced before their sight.
You went to , leaving behind,And treated war as feasting in your mind.
You did not see Arjasp’s blade strike its blow;You cast old King in blood and woe.
arrived and saw me bound in pain,My body wounded by the heavy chain.
He promised realm and throne and pleaded long;I answered him, my wrath and spirit strong:
‘These heavy chains, these fetters that I bear,These blacksmiths’ iron spikes, I shall lay bare
Before upon the Judgment Day,And plead against my slanderer’s evil way.’
He said, ‘The gorz-armed chiefs bleed on the plain;Your brother lies there in pain.
The field holds bodies pierced by arrows’ flight;Your sisters have been captured in the fight.
The Shah himself has fled before the foe,And grieves because he brought his son this woe.
Does not your heart burn hot at all this grief,At wounds and sorrows that defy relief?’
He spoke much more of sorrow, grief, and pain;I broke apart each fetter, yoke, and chain.
I rushed to you and slew foes past all count;You praised my deeds; too many to recount.
Should I recount the Stages, one by one,How could I ever hope to see it done?
I glorified before all men,And took Arjasp’s proud head in triumph then.
I brought his wife and children to your court,With crown and throne and treasure of every sort.
You placed those riches in your guarded hall;My blood was capital; grief paid for all.
Your oaths and pledges strengthened heart and hand,And made me readier for each command.
You said, ‘Return, and when I see you whole,You shall be dearer to me than my soul.
The ivory throne and crown shall pass to you;Your valor makes such royal honors due.’
Before the nobles I am put to shame:They ask, ‘Where are the troops and wealth you claim?’
What pretext now remains? What is my place?For whom do I still toil in this disgrace?”
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In briefGoshtasb grants that his son has no peer but Rostam, then names his price for the crown: march to Sistan and bring back Rostam, Zal, Zavareh and Faramarz in bonds. Esfandiyar protests the injustice, is refused twice, and leaves in anger.
The Shah replied, “From truth we must not stray;Your deeds exceed the things you tell today.
May God, who made the world, remain your aid;Each foe, concealed or open, stands afraid.
What man can hear your name and not grow pale?I say grow pale? His very life would fail.
You have no peer but , ’s great son,That witless chief, in valor matched by none.
He holds Zabulistan and ’s plain,With , , and all their wide domain.
His valor rises past the heavens’ height;He will not bow before another’s might.
He served Kay in the days gone by,And lived when Khosrow held his kingship high.
He will not name me king; his words are bold:‘’s crown is new, and we are old.’
No Roman, Turk, or noble is your peerWhen you in battle on the field appear.
Set out for with your chosen train;Use craft and force and guile across that plain.
Draw sword and raise your ; let Rostam seeHis hands in bonds and bring him here to me.
Bring brave , beside;Let none of them take horse again to ride.
Then by the Judge, the source of strength and light,Who made the sun and moon and stars burn bright,
When you complete this charge, our strife shall cease;From me you shall hear no dispute, but peace.
I give you treasure, troops, and royal seat;And crown you on the throne, your claim complete.”
replied, “O noble king,You leave old justice for a crooked thing.
A sovereign’s speech should measured wisdom bear;His words should balance justice, truth, and care.
Fight Chin’s great king and scatter all his horde;Send dust from warriors beaten by your sword.
Why fight that aged man, whom Kavus namedA lion-catcher, mighty and acclaimed?
From to Kay , his fameMade Iran’s heart rejoice to hear his name.
They called him Lord of , world-conquering guide,King-maker, lion-queller, Iran’s pride.
His greatness is no rumor newly heard; pledged his bond and gave his word.
If royal covenants cannot hold true,Why seek a charter, Shah Goshtasb, from you?”
The Shah replied, “My lion-hearted son,Renowned and skilled in all that you have done,
Who breaks God’s covenant shall find his ownA desert wind, across the wasteland blown.
You heard how Kavus strayed from what was right,At ’ bidding, robbed of judgment’s light.
On eagles’ wings he climbed the heavens high,Then fell in ’s waters from the sky.
He brought from his Div-born bride;The royal women’s house was hers to guide.
Through her, the noble was slain;The royal house was overturned in pain.
No man should pass the gate or seek the nodOf one who turns from fealty to God.
If crown and throne are what you hope to claim,Then march with troops to Sistan for that aim.
When you arrive, bind Rostam’s hands; obeyThe charge I give, and bring him back this way.
Bring Rostam with the round his arm,Bound fast, a captive, stripped of power to harm.
For Zal, Zavareh, Faramarz, take heed;Let none contrive a snare to thwart your deed.
Bring them on foot and make them run this way;Bring them before me, prince, without delay.
Then none will turn from us, however greatHis wealth or pleasure in his prosperous state.”
The chieftain frowned, displeasure in his eyes;He said, “Turn back from what you now devise.
Not Zal or Rostam is your true concern;Against your son your plotting thoughts now turn.
You grudge the royal throne I seek to gain;You would not have me in this world remain.
Keep crown and royal throne, as you desire;The world has corners where I may retire.
Yet I remain your servant, patient still,And bow my head before your royal will.”
Goshtasb replied, “Do not be angered so;This greatness shall be yours, as you shall know.
Choose many riders versed in battle’s art,Men who have long in warfare played their part.
Take arms and wealth, take soldiers as you need;Let every foe lament your coming deed.
Without you, troops and wealth and throne are vain;What use a crown, if I alone remain?”
He said, “I need no troops; when death draws near,God will not spare me with an army here.”
He left his father, angry at the crownWithheld, and how his father kept him down.
He reached his hall, his face a mask of grief,His sighs gave voice to pain beyond relief.
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In briefKatayun begs her son not to ride against Rostam, reciting his deeds and warning that no crown is worth his life. Esfandiyar agrees that binding Rostam would be shameful, refuses to disobey the Shah, and insists on taking his sons with him.
Much moved, with tearful cheeks, cameBefore her glorious son and spoke his name.
She said, “O crown of warriors, famed in fight,Whose name among the chiefs burns ever bright,
has told me you intend to rideFrom this rose-garden toward ’s side,
And bind great , and sword in hand,The son of , whom you would now withstand.
Now hear the words your mother brings today;Do not rush into evil on your way.
That rider, strong as elephants in war,Would scorn the Nile when battle’s torrents roar.
He tore the ’s liver out by force;Before his sword the sun would leave its course.
He slew the king of outright,And none is bold enough to blame his might.
Against , for dead,He made the earth a sea of running red.
Do not give up your life for royal power;No newborn wears a crown in his first hour.
A curse upon this crown and royal throne,On killing, pillage, tumult they have sown!
Your father now is old, while you are young,With strength and valor through your sinews strung.
The army turns its gaze upon your face;Do not through anger fall into disgrace.
The world has places other than that landOf ; do not raise a reckless hand.
Do not make me mourn in life and after death;Hear your mother’s grief in every breath.”
replied, “My mother dear,Attend my words and keep your judgment clear.
Great Rostam is the man you know so well;His deeds, like sacred Zand, you read and tell.
Search all the heroes, wander where you may;No greater benefactor comes your way.
To bind him is a wrong, a deed of shame;Such evil ill becomes the royal name.
Yet do not break my heart with what you say;To break my heart would take my life away.
How can I turn from what the Shah commands,And cast away such kingship from my hands?
If Zabul marks the ending of my days,Then heaven draws me there through all its ways.
If Rostam comes obedient to my word,No harsh rebuke from me shall then be heard.”
His mother’s eyes rained blood; she tore her hair,And cried, “O raging elephant, beware!
Your strength has made you reckless with your life;Do not seek Rostam in unequal strife.
You are no match for him; you cannot standAgainst him; do not go without a band.
Do not go bearing life upon your ownShoulder before that elephant alone.
Your will to go is ’s own snare;Pause now, and from this road your children spare.
Do not lead children on their feet to hell;No sage would say that you have reasoned well.”
The prince replied, “My sons must come with me;To leave them here is no choice I can see.
When idleness becomes a young man’s way,His spirit darkens, and his thoughts decay.
I need them in the fight; no mighty force,Just kin and some companions on this course.”
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In briefThe army marches at cockcrow. At the fork below Gombadan the lead camel kneels and will not rise; Esfandiyar has it killed to keep the ill luck with it, camps on the Hirmund, and tells Bishutan over wine that he will send a scribe to Rostam.
At cockcrow the tabiras gave their roar;The elephantine chief rode out to war.
His army followed swiftly in his train;They moved like wind across the waking plain.
He marched until two roads appeared ahead;The elephants and troops no farther sped.
One road led on to , and oneBent off toward , where its course would run.
The foremost camel sank upon the ground,As though it and the earth were joined and bound.
The driver struck its head; his staff blows rained,The caravan stood still, its march detained.
The prince received the omen with alarm,And feared the sign foretold approaching harm.
He bade them kill it, hoping ill would stayWith it, and would never turn away.
The warriors struck its head off where it lay,And then the star turned back that very day.
Though troubled by the omen he had known,He scorned the baleful star its sign had shown.
He said, “When one has conquered under grace,And lit the earth with fortune’s shining face,
He ought to smile, for every good and illComes down from God and moves beneath His will.”
Then toward the he began to ride,Yet fear of hidden mishap walked beside.
As custom bade, they raised the tents in rows;Each chief the ground for his own station chose.
They pitched the canopy and placed the throne;The favored sat, whose fortune brightly shone.
He summoned wine and minstrels for his cheer,With , his brother, seated near.
He cheered his heart with music and delight,And freed the nobles’ hearts from sorrow’s blight.
When aged wine had made their faces bloom,He spoke to friends and voiced his inward gloom.
“I turned from what my father bade me do,And strayed from his appointed pathway too.
He said, ‘Make ’s bondage your concern;And from his degradation do not turn.’
I did not carry out my father’s will;For Rostam’s service guards Iran still.
He bore our chiefs’ great burdens in the fray;His heavy set right a world astray.
From Shah to slave, Iran survives todayThrough him; no man can cast that truth away.
I need a scribe to ride, alert, aware,Whom Rostam’s craft and cunning cannot snare.
A rider graced with farr, with learning blessed,Who keeps in mind the words to him addressed.
If Rostam comes to us, his counsel’s lightMay make our dark deliberations bright.
If willingly he lets me bind him here,His wisdom bars the harm he has to fear.
I wish him only good in what I do,If he will keep his heart from malice too.”
Said Bishutan, “This is the way; maintainRespect for men, and on this path remain.”
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In briefEsfandiyar dresses Bahman as a prince and sends him with ten priests to Rostam, bearing a long message: a sermon on good and evil, a charge of never attending court, and a promise to plead for him once he has submitted to the chains.
called to his side,And spoke at length of what the charge implied.
“Clothe all your limbs in Chin’s brocade and rideYour black steed with a prince’s royal pride.
Upon your head now set a kingly crown,With jewels fit to win the world’s renown.
Let all who see you mark your high command,And choose you from the chiefs throughout the land.
And know your birth is of the royal line,Remembering your Creator’s power divine.
Take five fine steeds with golden trappings dressed,And ten wise priests selected from the best.
With those distinguished priests of name and grace,Ride straight along the road to ’s place.
Perform the errand with a willing mind;Greet him from us, speak gently, and be kind.
First greet him with the honor that is due,Then give him words from me, conveyed by you:
‘Let him who rises, ruling in his might,Secure from evil in his lofty height,
Give thanks to God through all his length of days,Who knows all goodness and deserves his praise.
But he who grows in good and shuns all wrong,Who keeps himself from evil all life long,
Shall see his treasure grow and gladly stayWithin this fleeting world that slips away.
By turning from all sordid aims below,He wins the garden where the blessed go.
With us both good and evil will not last;The wise know each, like day, is quickly passed.
Dark dust at last will be our final bed,While every spirit wings to God instead.
Whoever knows the good will strive to bringHis deeds into accord with every king.
You reap the crop you sow from year to year;Whatever words you speak, those words you hear.
Now let us weigh your deeds with faithful care,Without excess in praise or blame unfair.
You have lived long and watched kings rise and fall;You know what wisdom values over all.
It does not suit a man of heart and nameTo stray from wisdom’s road and earn new blame.
Great troops and treasure, crown and royal seat,Fine horses and great wealth lie at your feet.
My forebears placed these riches in your hand,For ready service to the king’s command.
Yet while Shah held the royal throne,You never came before him to be known.
And when received the royal seat,You never came to bow before his feet.
You never wrote, nor sought the royal gate,Nor brought the homage proper kings await.
You never came in service to his court;You name no king to whom you lend support.
From , , ’s ancient day,When ’s brood was swept from rule away,
Down to Kay , who assumed the crownThat Fereydoon had worn in old renown,
No monarch like Goshtasb has yet been knownIn feast, fight, counsel, hunting, crown, or throne.
He took the pure good faith into his hand,And drove both wrong and fault from the land.
His royal way shone like the sun in light;False teaching and the ’s way fled from sight.
Then fierce brought leopard troops to fight,Their chief a sea-beast in his raging might.
No man could count the warriors in his train,Nor measure half the strength upon the plain.
Our famous sovereign met him in the field,And made the foe beneath his onset yield.
The face of earth lay hidden by the dead,Their bodies heaped across the ground blood-red.
Until the Resurrection’s final day,That tale among the great will not decay.
He breaks the backs of lions in the fight;From west to east all bow before his might.
From far Turan to and ’s wide lands,The world is wax within his mighty hands.
The desert, home of spearmen, sends its trainOf riders to the court where he holds reign.
They pay him toll and tribute, since they knowThey lack the strength to face him as a foe.
I speak, O champion, famed for strength and might,Because he has not found your conduct right.
You have not come before his royal court,Nor joined his chiefs in counsel or support.
Instead you chose in to remain,Concealed from all, apart from their domain.
Yet how can chiefs, unless all feeling ends,Forget the good you did for kings and friends?
In every task you raised your noble head,And did what former Shahs required and said.
If men should count the toils you had to bear,Your treasure could not pay for all your care.
No king accepts such conduct from a manWho serves him, since the rule of kings began.
Goshtasb has said, “Since Rostam’s wealth is vast,His province rich, his stores from ages past,
He stays in Zabul, sunk in ease and wine;He sets no hand to any task of mine.
When needed, he is absent from the field;At court or feast no loyalty’s revealed.”
The Shah grew angry, swearing in his mightBy shining day and by the dark-blue night:
“No chosen warrior of this camp shall seeHim in my court unless in bonds to me.”
For this I left Iran without delay;The Shah gave me no breath, no pause, no stay.
Beware the Shah; avoid his angry gaze;You know how fiercely wrath within it plays.
If you will come, obeying my command,And mourn the past neglect in which you stand,
Then by the sun and ’s soul, I vow,By father’s life, that lion none can cow,
I swear to make the Shah repent outright,And raise this darkened moon to shining light.
Let bear witness at my side;My soul and wisdom serve me as my guide.
I sought to bring the Shah to peace with you;Yet fault was all I found in what you do.
My father is the king; I serve his throne,And cannot leave his bidding for my own.
Now let your whole house gather and confer,And weigh what action all of you prefer.
Let , , appear,With wise , seasoned year on year.
Hear all my counsel, every word I say;And trust these friendly words to show the way.
Your house must not be wrecked beneath their feet,To give Iran’s brave men their triumph sweet.
When I bring you in bonds before the throne,Then many faults before him shall be shown.
I shall stand pleading there before his eyes,And turn him from the wrath and hate that rise.
I shall not let a wind upon you blow;Such care my noble birth demands I show.’”
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In briefBahman crosses the Hirmund in royal state. Zal meets him without knowing him and asks his errand; told whose son he is, Zal dismounts and does homage. Bahman refuses wine and rides on to the hunting ground with a guide.
When heard the prince’s royal word,He took the road, by duty’s summons stirred.
He donned a robe of gold brocade and flame;A jeweled crown proclaimed his royal name.
Then proudly from the royal camp he rode;Behind him high his royal standard flowed.
The noble youth crossed ’s rushing tide,Tall as a cypress in his youthful pride.
The watchman saw him from the river’s side,And raised a cry through far and wide:
“A warlike horseman now has crossed the streamOn sable steed whose golden trappings gleam.
Behind him riders of a humbler rankPassed on at ease beside the riverbank.”
mounted swiftly, heeding the alarm,His strapped, his upon his arm.
He reached the watchtower, saw Bahman draw near,And from his heart there rose a sigh of fear.
He said, “This is a of fame,In royal robes that well befit his name.
Indeed, he comes from ’s royal line;May his arrival make our country shine.”
He left the tower and rode toward the gate,Then paused in thought, still mounted, there to wait.
Soon Bahman came, his royal banner high;He did not know old Zal as he rode by.
He called, his head held high as he drew near,“You, born of landed nobles, standing here,
Where is Zal’s son, the guardian of the state,The backbone of our age, renowned and great?
For great has reached this land,And pitched beside the Hirmund with his band.”
Zal said, “My eager son, dismount and rest;Take wine and be received as honored guest.
returns from hunting on the plain,With and in his train.
Come with your horsemen here and ease your mind;Take drafts of wine and leave your haste behind.”
Bahman replied, “Esfandiyar’s commandWas not for wine, or minstrel, cup, or band.
Give me a guide to lead me to the chase;And let him ride with me to reach that place.”
Zal said, “What is your name, and why such speed?What urgent mission drives your eager steed?
I think you spring from Shah Lohrasp’s great line,Or from , whose royal honors shine.”
Bahman replied, “I am Bahman by name,Son of the brazen-bodied prince of fame.”
Then Zal dismounted, paying homage dueTo Bahman when his royal birth he knew.
Young Bahman smiled and stepped down from his steed;He heard Zal’s greeting and gave careful heed.
They greeted one another; Zal then pressed,“Stay, hero; do not leave in haste; take rest.”
Bahman replied, “We must not now delay,Or slight Esfandiyar’s command today.”
Zal chose , who knew the hunting road;The guide went with the prince; ahead he rode.
The seasoned guide led on, then pointed outThe hunting ground, and turned his horse about.
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In briefFrom the height Bahman sees Rostam at the hunt and rolls a boulder down at him; Rostam kicks it aside without setting down his meal. Awed, Bahman delivers the message, eats almost nothing while Rostam eats a whole wild ass, and marvels at him.
Before the youth, a mountain came in sight;He urged his charger upward to the height.
He looked below upon the hunting ground,And saw great , for his renowned.
Like Mount the mighty warrior stood;One hand held up a sapling from the wood.
A wild ass on the wood was skewered through;His gorz and gear lay close beside him too.
His other hand held wine within a bowl;His son attended him with watchful soul.
roamed the meadow while the landscape gleamedWhere grass grew, trees rose, and clear water streamed.
He thought, “Is this great Rostam in my sight,Or dawn’s bright sun that fills the world with light?
No famous ancient ever saw or heardOf such a man in deed or spoken word.
I fear brave may have to yield,And lose his glory on the fatal field.
A boulder then shall crush him unaware,And plunge old and in despair.”
He loosened from the height a flinty mass,And sent it roaring down the mountain pass.
saw it hurtling toward the ground,And heard the mountain thunder with its sound.
He shouted, “, look to the height!A boulder hurtles down with deadly might!”
But Rostam neither moved nor set asideThe wild ass, while Zavareh loudly cried.
He waited till the stone had thundered low,While dust rose thick and dimmed the daylight’s glow.
Then with one kick he drove the boulder wide,While son and brother praised him at his side.
felt sick at heart at what was done,And marked his majesty beneath the sun.
He thought, “If Esfandiyar should face the fray,His glory may be darkened on that day.
Far better for my father to refrainFrom war and seek a peace they might maintain.
For should great Rostam win this fight, his handCould seize the whole of Iran’s royal land.”
He mounted then his wind-swift steed, and toreDown from the mountain, troubled to the core.
When he drew near the hunting ground, the oneUnrivaled, Rostam, saw him at a run.
He asked a comrade, “What is this youth’s name?I think from Shah ’s own line he came.”
Then Rostam, with Zavareh and the rest,Went out to meet Bahman as honored guest.
They all went forth in formal ranks to meetBahman, who stepped down from his saddle seat.
They traded courtesies; then, for the truth,Great Rostam put this question to the youth:
“First tell me freely what your name may be;No nameless man gains what he seeks from me.”
The youth replied, “Renowned Bahman am I,Son of Esfandiyar, whose fame stands high.”
The Pahlevan, delighted at their meeting,Embraced him, begged pardon for his late greeting.
They went together to the place of rest,With nobles who their chief with honor blessed.
When Bahman sat, he gave the greetings due,From prince and Shah and Iran’s nobles too.
He said, “Esfandiyar has come like fire,Sent by the Shah to act on his desire.
Obedient to the Shah’s august command,He pitched his camp beside the ’s strand.
If noble Rostam now will hear from me,I bear the words of Esfandiyar’s decree.”
Rostam replied, “Young prince, you crossed a road;We first must ease your journey’s weary load.
First let us share the bounty we possess;Then all the world is yours to rule and bless.”
He spread soft bread and brought the roasted meat,A wild ass, hot and ready there to eat.
He laid the tablecloth before his guest,And spoke of former days as they took rest.
He seated his own brother at the spread,But called no other nobles to be fed.
Before himself he placed another beast,His customary portion at a feast.
He salted it, then cut and ate his share;Bahman looked on, astonished by the fare.
Young Bahman ate so little, scarce a bite;A hundredfold was Rostam’s appetite.
Then Rostam smiled: “The splendor borne by kingsIs meant to let them taste life’s pleasant things.
If this is all the food that you can stand,How did you cross the Stages of that land?
How do you wield the spear in battle’s heat,O prince, with such a small desire to eat?”
Bahman replied, “Let none of royal birthBe gluttonous or loose of tongue on earth.
Less food, more toil and battle mark his stand;He holds his life upon an open hand.”
Then Rostam smiled and said, “No man should hideHis manhood from mankind or veil his pride.”
He filled a golden bowl and drank a toastTo freeborn men whose honor he prized most.
He gave another: “Pledge a man you choose;Recall whatever name you wish to use.”
Young Bahman feared the cup; Zavareh drewA draft of wine, and spoke the blessing due:
“O royal child, may wine and drinkers beMade glad through you in all their festive glee.”
Then Bahman took the wine-cup in his hand,Still wondering at the hero of the land.
His appetite, his neck and arms so strong,His shoulders held the young man’s wonder long.
They mounted; Bahman gave, in full detail,His father’s words and greetings on the trail.
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In briefRostam sends back a careful answer: he honors Esfandiyar and will come without troops, bringing his ancient royal grants, on foot and in a leopard skin with a halter over his own arm — but he will not be brought in another man’s chains.
When heard, the ancient hero thought;Then answered with the care the message brought.
“I heard the message and rejoice in you;Bear this answer, firm and true:
‘O lion-hearted chief, a mind made wiseWill weigh the grounds on which its actions rise.
When valor, fortune, treasure, high estateHave joined to make your name renowned and great,
When noble men regard you with delight,As now the world beholds your rising light,
You should not give your heart to evil ways,With all the honors of your present days.
Let us serve God, let justice be our stay;Do not clasp mischief’s hand or choose its way;
Words spoken without cause can bear no fruit,Like scentless trees that stand with barren root.
If greed should take your soul within its hold,Your toil will lengthen, profitless and cold.
A prince should speak with measured thought and skill;His lips should keep no place for words of ill.
Your servant once rejoiced when men would sayNo mother bore your equal in our day.
In valor, learning, wisdom, you excelYour forebears, as the men who praise you tell.
In and Chin your fame is widely known;In and sorcerers’ lands your name has grown.
I thank you for your counsel; I give praiseThrough three night watches, as throughout the days.
I prayed to God that I might see your face,And witness all your greatness and your grace.
Your manhood, love, and splendor I desired,The wish by which my heart was long inspired:
That we might sit in joy and lift the wineIn honor of the Shah, your king and mine.
Now I have reached the wish I sought before;I come in haste, your favor to implore.
Without my troops I come to hear from youThe Shah’s command and all he bids me do.
I bring the ancient royal grants I hold,From Khosrow back to Kay of old.
Now, matchless hero, look upon my case,My pain, my acts, my service, and my place.
Consider all the deeds that I have done,My hardship, toil, and battles I have won.
From ancient days until this present hour,I served the Shahs and upheld royal power.
If chains are all the wages that I earn,And harm from Iran’s Shah is my return,
Far better never to have drawn a breath,Or, having lived, to find an early death.
I come to speak my secrets, every word;Across the world my voice shall then be heard.
In leopard skin, on foot, I come to stand,A halter on my arm, bound by my hand,
As once I broke the mighty elephant’s neck,And cast it in the Nile, a broken wreck.
Then if some guilt in me is brought to light,Cut off my head, as judgment deems it right.
Keep words that wound away from me; impartTheir bitterness to grieve the ’s own heart.
Do not speak words that none has spoken yet,Nor think the wind a thing your cage can net.
Great men can find a way through fire; but heWho cannot swim can never cross the sea.
You cannot hide the moon’s resplendent light,Nor set the fox beside the lion’s might.
Do not spread strife across the road I tread;In war my skill has filled the world with dread.
No man has seen me fettered in the field,No raging elephant has made me yield.
Act as a prince should act and take your stand;Do not keep Greed, the Div, at your right hand.
Put wrath and vengeance from your heart; be wise,And do not see the world through youthful eyes.
Cross now the stream in joy; may God bestowHis blessing as you to my household go.
Come feast with me; your servant waits for you,As once I served Kay Qobad, firm and true.
My heart and mind rejoice in you today;Do not remain, my prince, so far away.
If you will come to me with all your train,For two months let your troops with me remain.
Then men and horses shall have rest from toil,While foes grow blind with envy and recoil.
The game afield, the birds upon the stream,Will wait, though long your stay with me may seem.
I shall behold your strength, your sword in play,And see a lion or leopard fall as prey.
When you decide to leave with all your menAnd journey home to Iran’s Shah again,
I shall unlock the ancient treasure store,Won by my sword in years that came before.
All that I gathered by my arm’s own mightI lay before you, open to your sight.
Take what you wish and give the rest away;Do not bring grief upon this joyous day.
When you would see the Shah, I take the roadBeside you, rein to rein, to his abode.
I shall with pleading soothe his anger’s heat,And kiss his head, his eyes, and both his feet,
Then ask the wakeful Shah what cause he foundTo order that my feet should now be bound.’
Remember all my words and make them clearTo noble Esfandiyar when you draw near.”
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In briefRostam sends word to Zal to prepare a royal welcome and rides to the Hirmund. Bahman reports Rostam’s answer and his strength; Esfandiyar shames him in open court, then tells Bishutan privately that the old lion is still preparing for war.
When heard what had replied,A holy Mobad journeyed at his side.
But peerless Rostam lingered on the way,Then called , , to say:
“Go straight to , who rules in ’s land,And let him hear the charge that I command:
has now arrived; his aimIs all the world, which he has come to claim.
Set in the halls a throne of shining gold,With royal cloth upon its seat unrolled.
Make preparations fit for royal state,As once for ; now more rich and great.
Make every chamber more resplendent still,And load the tables with a generous will.
Let nothing fail in all the feast we bear;The Shah’s own son approaches; take due care.
He comes with vengeance, seeking out a fight,A famous prince, renowned for martial might.
He would not fear a plain where lions roam;I go to bid him welcome to my home.
If he accepts my welcome, hope remains;For every man hopes good is what he gains.
A crown of gold and ruby I shall bring,If I find kindness in this noble king.
My treasure and my gems I shall provide,With and and sword beside.
But if he sends me back with hope denied,No happy day awaits me at his side,
You know my twisted ’s coils can holdAn elephant’s great head, however bold.”
Zavareh answered him, “Have no such thought;No man without a grudge has battle sought.
In counsel and in courage, none I knowCan match this prince, wherever I may go.
No evil deed comes from a mind made wise;No wrong from us has come before his eyes.”
Zavareh went to Zal; but Rostam spedToward the , full of fear and dread.
He reined in by the stream to wait and hearWhat greeting Bahman brought when he drew near.
When Bahman reached the royal dwelling place,He stood before his father face to face.
Then glorious Esfandiyar asked his son,“What answer have you from the peerless one?”
Then Bahman sat and told what he had heard;He gave his father Rostam’s every word.
He gave first Rostam’s greeting and reply,Then told what he had marked with careful eye.
He told his father what his eyes had seen,Describing Rostam’s strength and mighty mien.
“I never saw among the great or smallA man like Rostam, mightiest of all.
He has a lion’s heart and elephant’s size;He pulls, and from the Nile its great beasts rise.
He came, no , gorz, nor any traceOf helm or kamand, to the Hirmund’s place.
He longs to see you; yet I cannot sayWhat purpose guides him on his chosen way.”
Then Esfandiyar grew angry at his son,And shamed him in full court for what was done.
He said, “A noble man should not confideHis secrets to a woman at his side.
Send children on a weighty task and seeHow little strength and courage there will be.
What mighty warriors have you seen? Reply!You have not even heard a fox’s cry.
You make him a war elephant and shakeThe hearts of all these chiefs until they break.”
Then privately to he said,“This lion still prepares for war ahead.
He bears himself as though still in his prime;He carries lightly all the weight of time.”
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In briefThe two meet at the Hirmund. Rostam greets Esfandiyar warmly and invites him home; the prince returns the courtesy but insists Rostam must come before Goshtasb in chains. Rostam refuses the bonds, and they settle instead on one day of feasting.
The prince commanded, “Saddle up the black;Place now the golden saddle on its back.”
A hundred horsemen from his chosen bandRode with him out beside the strand.
He hastened to the Hirmund’s riverbank,His saddle’s twisted at his flank.
neighed aloud upon the nearer side;The prince’s charger called across the tide.
Then rode from land into the stream;Dismounting, he addressed him with esteem.
When greetings passed, he said, “I prayed in graceThat God would guide you safely to this place,
That you and all your nobles might draw nearWith all your troops and safely meet me here.
Come, let us sit and let our words be wise,And in our talk let happy counsel rise.
Be sure that God Himself looks on and knows,And wisdom guides the words that I disclose.
I seek no glory through the words I share;No lie will pass my lips or cloud the air.
If now appeared before my sight,My heart could know no greater joy or light.
You seem like Siavash, and none beside,That crowned one whose gifts spread far and wide.
Blessed is the Shah who has a son like you;Your stature and your rejoice him too.
Blessed is Iran, whose people gladly waitUpon your throne and ever-watchful fate.
Ill-starred is he who fights you; from his throneHe falls to dust, his fortune overthrown.
May all your foes be filled with dread of you;May all ill-wishers’ hearts be torn in two.
May all your years be fortunate and bright;May greet you in the blackest night.”
Then bright left his royal steed,And clasped the hero, great in word and deed.
He called down blessings on the man of fame,And spoke with joy while praising Rostam’s name:
“Thank God, O chief of chiefs, that I beholdYour mind so bright, your spirit glad and bold.
It is but right that men should hail your worth,Whose fame makes heroes dust upon the earth.
Blessed is he who has a son like you;He sees the fruit upon the branch he grew.
Blessed is he who has in you a stay;No evil fortune strips his peace away.
In you I see , that lion’s might,The chief who felled great elephants in fight.”
Then Rostam said, “O wise and watchful chief,Whose spirit shines, hear now my wish in brief:
I have one wish, and if that wish were won,My heart would rest content beneath the sun.
Come visit me in state, and make my soulBright with your sight, restored and glad and whole.
Though little there may suit your royal state,We shall provide the best within our gate.”
Esfandiyar replied, “O hero, youSurvive the mighty men the whole world knew.
All Iran takes delight in your great name,And in a man of such enduring fame.
Your counsel must not lightly be dismissed,Nor should your land and dwelling place be missed.
Yet I may not, in private or in sight,Turn from the Shah’s command to left or right.
He did not bid me linger in this land,Or fight the nobles here at his command.
Act so that fortune’s fruit remains your own;Walk in the path the king of kings has shown.
Set bonds upon your feet without delay;A monarch’s bonds bring no disgrace your way.
When I bring you in bonds before his eyes,The blame for this on him alone then lies.
Though seeing you in bondage wounds my heart,I shall serve you and never stand apart.
You shall not stay in bonds till day is through;If any hurt or harm should come to you,
Regard it all as good; the Shah will sendNo harm to you, on that you may depend.
When I am crowned and rule throughout the land,I shall entrust the world into your hand.
No sin before the just God shall I bear,Nor shame before the Shah whose crown I wear.
When you return to in the daysWhen garden roses bloom beneath your gaze,
You shall receive much treasure from my hand,Enough to grace and beautify your land.”
Then Rostam said, “O noble prince, I soughtFrom God the joy your presence would have brought:
To find my heart made happy at your sight,And in your words to find my soul’s delight.
We both are wise, one old and one still young,Two watchful s from honor sprung.
I fear the evil eye may break the deepContentment, waking us from pleasant sleep.
The finds room between us in this hour,And bends your heart to crown and throne and power.
Such an affair would bring me lasting shame,A wound forever fastened to my name:
That such a chieftain, high-born, brave, and great,Should not come as my guest within my gate.
Come gladly to my house and be my guestWithin this land; then let our quarrel rest.
Cast out your enmity and strive to quellThe Div by working on him with a spell.
Your words bring joy; I yield to your command,Except these bonds upon my foot and hand.
Bonds bring defeat and shame; none shall see meAlive in chains. That is my firm decree.”
Esfandiyar replied, “O heroes’ pride,Your words are truth; let falsehood stand aside.
No man gains light through lies; knowsThe Shah’s commands that sent me where he chose.
If I should come as guest within your hall,While you refuse the Shah’s command and call,
My day would darken; should we come to fight,I would assume the leopard’s wrath and might.
For should I fight with you, our bond would break,The right of bread and salt I would forsake.
My claim to noble birth would be in doubt,If I should cast that binding duty out.
But if I disobey the Shah’s desire,My dwelling in the next world will be fire.
Yet since you wish it, let one day be spentWith wine in hand, and hearts on peace intent.
Who knows what fate tomorrow will allot?We need not weave a tale of what is not.”
Said Rostam, “I agree; I shall go backAnd shed the clothes I wore upon the track.
For seven days I hunted, and insteadOf lamb, on meat of wild ass I have fed.
Call me at mealtime when you take your seatAmong your kin, and I shall come to eat.”
He mounted Rakhsh, his thoughts a troubled weight,And hurried homeward to the palace gate.
He saw the face of , great ’s own son,And said, “Famed chief, the meeting now is done.
I went today to see Esfandiyar,A prince like cypress, graced with royal farr.
He is a man of wisdom, grace, and light,With royal glory shining in my sight.
seemed to place within his careHis greatness and his wisdom, both to bear.
His presence stands above what rumor tells;Imperial farr within his being dwells.”
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In briefAlone with Bishutan, Esfandiyar decides against inviting his guest and sends no summons to the meal. Bishutan pleads for peace in vain. Rostam waits at home until the hour passes, then orders his own table laid and rides out to confront the prince.
When left the ’s riverbank, in troubled silence sank.
Then , his counselor, drew near,And came into the prince’s tent to hear.
The hero said, “We held this hard affairToo lightly, giving it too little care.
I have no business in his hall, and heHas no occasion here to visit me.
If he comes not, I shall not call him near;If either’s mortal measure fills up here,
The living heart will burn for him who dies,And tears of fond remembrance fill his eyes.”
Then Bishutan replied, “What brother standsLike famed Esfandiyar in all these lands?
By God, when I saw you two face to face,And neither sought a quarrel in that place,
My heart became like springtime in its cheer,For Rostam’s sake and yours together here.
But looking at your case, I saw the wayThe blocks reason’s path and leads astray.
You know this matter well and understandYour father’s counsel and our God’s command.
Take care; do not endanger your own life;Hear now your brother and avoid this strife.
I heard his words; his greatness came to light,With noble kindness joined to all his might.
No bonds will chafe the feet of ’s great son;Your bond will not be lightly sought or won.
That horseman of the world will not, in play,Put his head in a snare and be its prey.
I fear this quarrel may grow fierce and long,Between two proud men, each so great and strong.
You are a mighty prince, whose wits exceed’s, and stronger in each warlike deed.
When one seeks feast and one pursues a feud,Judge which of these displays the nobler mood.”
“Defy the Shah?” the prince said. “Men would cryAgainst my choice, and God would ask me why.
Both worlds for Rostam I will not let go;No needle has sewn shut the world’s eye so.”
Then Bishutan said, “All advice I knewTo help your soul and body, I gave you.
I have said all; now choose the nobler way;A prince should lift his heart from wrath today.”
He called upon the cooks to bring the fare;He sent no man to bid Rostam to share.
His meal now done, he called for wine and toldOf deeds at , both brave and bold.
He drank to the Shah amid his martial boast,Recalling his own valor with the toast.
But Rostam stayed within his palace wall,And did not eat, still waiting for the call.
A long while passed; no messenger drew near,Though Rostam watched the road for one to appear.
When feast-time passed and patience ebbed away,The hero would no longer bear delay.
He smiled and said, “My brother, deck the board;Summon the noble men with one accord.
If this is Esfandiyar’s chosen way,Remember well his custom from today.”
He bade them saddle and make him fineWith saddle trappings made in Chin’s design.
“I go to speak to him, who chose to slightOur business, treating all its weight as light.”
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In briefRostam crosses the river, and the watching troops pity him and blame Goshtasb. Esfandiyar excuses the missing summons. Seated on the prince’s left, Rostam refuses the lesser place, recites his lineage and deeds, and is given a golden chair on the right.
Like some great elephant, he climbed astride;’s loud neigh rang out two farsangs wide.
He hurried toward the river and the men;The troops pressed close to gaze on him again.
All hearts chose love for him as on he came;They cried, “He seems like , that chief of fame.
He sits, an iron mountain, on that steed;Rakhsh seems like in strength and speed.
Should he oppose an elephant, its headWould have dark indigo upon it spread.
The king must have a mind bereft of light,To send such and prowess into fight:
The moonlike prince, the great,Against this chief, to meet a deadly fate.
grows more greedy for his gold,More proud of seal and crown as he grows old.”
Esfandiyar came forth to show respect,And gave the welcome could expect.
Said Rostam, “, young prince of state,Your ways are new; your fortune has been great.
Your guest, it seems, was worth no summons sent;Your promise was a wind that came and went.
Remember all I say; do not be boldIn senseless rage toward one who has grown old.
You think too highly of yourself today,And find these mighty chiefs get in your way.
You hold my courage light, my counsel small,And think my knowledge hardly counts at all.
Know I am Rostam; through me shines the lineOf , whose lineage is mine.
The black gnaws his hand; I make him quail,And send the sorcerers into a jail.
When chiefs beheld my babr armor’s might,My mount, a roaring lion in their sight,
They left the field before a blow was thrown,Their bows and arrows left behind, alone.
, that warrior, felt my ’s coil;The was dragged down to the soil.
I dragged them from their saddles to defeat,And bound them captive, both their heads and feet.
I guard the Shahs and all Iran; I standBehind the brave in each and every land.
Do not mistake my plea, nor hold your headAbove the heavens for the words I said.
Your farr and royal state drew me to you,To seek your counsel and your friendship too.
I do not wish a prince of such renownTo fall through me, by Fortune broken down.
I call great Sahm a hero; at his strideThe lions left the woods and fled aside.
I am his memory living on the earth,O royal prince of valor, fame, and birth.
Long have I been the world’s great champion, freeOf evil deeds that leave their stain on me.
I cleansed the world of foes; the toil and strainHave lined my face with wrinkles born of pain.
I thank my God that in these later daysI see my peer, a prince of royal praise.
You shall avenge the Faith; on every tongueYour praise throughout the world shall then be sung.”
Then smiling, prince Esfandiyar replied,“O son of Sahm, I see your wounded pride.
No summons came; you took it as a slight.I sought no glory through it, nor delight.
The day was hot, the road was long to ride;I would not trouble you; put wrath aside.
I said, ‘At dawn I shall set out; I needTo seek your pardon for my graceless deed.
To see old would fill my heart with cheer,And you would gladden me when I drew near.’
But since you came yourself and rode this way,And left your home to cross the plain today,
Sit down and rest; take up the cup of wine,And let no wrath disturb this feast of mine.”
He placed great Rostam on his left-hand side;The gathering was graced by him, its pride.
The Pahlevan said, “This is no place for me;I sit where I decide my place shall be.”
Upon the right, he ordered them to layHis seat, arranged precisely in his way.
He told the prince in anger, “Open wideYour eyes; behold my stature and my pride.
Regard my prowess and my noble seed;From valiant Sahm I spring in word and deed.
A man needs merit and a noble start,A generous hand, a just and giving heart.
Though you may have no seat to match my state,My wisdom, judgment, triumph still are great.”
Then came the order; to the royal seatThey brought a golden chair, set at its feet.
Rostam, still angry, sat upon the gold,A fragrant citron in his hand to hold.
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In briefEsfandiyar repeats a tale he says he had from the Mobadan: that Zal was Div-born, exposed by Sahm, reared on carrion by a contemptuous Simorgh, and that from this base stock came Rostam and a family that reaches after kingship.
Then spoke thus to ’s face:“O kindly chief, whom fame and honor grace,
From I heard this tale of old;From chiefs and wakeful sages it was told:
That was base, and from a was born;His lineage merits nothing more than scorn.
They hid the child from for many a day,And deemed him born to bring the world dismay.
His face and hair were white, his body dark;Sahm saw him and despaired of that strange mark.
He bade them take him to the sea, away,Where birds and fish might make the child their prey.
The came, her wings spread out to fly;No noble bearing, no met her eye.
She carried him aloft to her retreat,Where no one found the infant’s presence sweet.
Though hunger gnawed, the Simorgh’s scorn was plain;She held his body worthless, in disdain.
He ate the carrion scraps that she had shed;Unclothed, despised, on cast-off flesh he fed.
In time the Simorgh came to love the child;And so the years passed by him in the wild.
She took him to , his body bare,After he lived on carrion for his fare.
Childless, Sahm took him; what a foolish mind!What ways of Divs, what manners, crude in kind!
The Shahs and mighty men from my own race,My forebears and well-wishers gave him place.
They gave him rank and goods in full supply;Years passed, and he grew cypress-like and high.
That cypress branched; its crown stayed whole; it grew,And bore its fruit in Rostam; namely you.
Through manhood, stature, looks, he rose so great,His fortunes seemed to climb to heaven’s gate.
Thus, he gained kingship, swollen in his pride,And cast the ways of piety aside.”
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In briefRostam answers with his pedigree: Nariman, Kariman, Hushang, and Sahm who killed a dragon and a Div. He claims descent through his mother from Zahhak, recounts his own wars, including the killing of Sohrab, and turns back to his wine.
Then answered, “Take heed of my word;Why speak such things as no one gladly heard?
Your heart breeds crookedness; the s supplyThe nourishment that lifts your spirit high.
Speak as befits a king whose rule is just;A Shah speaks only truth, which men may trust.
God knows that , great ’s illustrious son,Has wisdom, greatness, and fair honor won.
And Sahm was born to noble ,That hero, sprung from mighty .
, the crowned king, stands within our line,Whose royal ancestry is also mine.
You must have heard of peerless Sahm’s renown;No other name in his age wore such a crown.
First came the dragon, ravaging ’s land,From whose fierce grip no man could free his hand.
At sea a , leopard on dry ground,Its fire scorched rock and earth the country round.
It burned the fishes’ heads in waterways,And scorched the vultures’ wings amid the blaze.
It sucked in elephants; the thought aloneCould turn a cheerful heart as cold as stone.
Another was a Div of malice, vast,Its head in heaven, on earth its body cast.
The sea of Chin came halfway up its frame;The sunlight harmed it with its burning flame.
It lifted fish from water far below,Its head beyond the heavens’ dome would go.
The sun would roast the fish it held on high;It made the wheeling heavens weep and cry.
These two great monsters both lay lifeless then,By Sahm’s sword slain, that mighty chief of men.
My mother, ’s daughter, shares his line;He made the realm of in splendor shine.
Five fathers back, her lineage reached the crownOf , high among kings of renown.
Who has a nobler lineage than this?No wise man trades the truth for falsehood’s kiss.
Throughout the world, wherever heroes be,They ought to seek their skill and strength from me.
I hold the grant that gave me first;Against me no excuse may be rehearsed.
I hold one too from righteous ,Whose like no king could show.
My wanderings have covered all the earth;I slew the unjust kings and proved my worth.
When I crossed , took flight;To Chin from Turan fled that man of might.
For Kavus, at war in ,I went alone into .
and fell beneath my hand;Nor could , , or stand.
And for our monarch’s sake, I slew my son,My wise, brave boy, the best beneath the sun.
No warrior matched in strength and name,In courage, tested skill, and battle fame.
Six hundred years and more have passed awaySince I was born of Zal, until this day.
The world’s , so men called me, trueIn public and in private, through and through.
As noble once wore the crown,And hurled Zahhak with head and diadem down,
And Sahm, our forebear, with discerning mindLeft knowledge and alchemy far behind,
So, third, when I put on the warrior’s belt,The crowned king’s ease throughout the world was felt.
No days had known such joy; no outlaw’s traceWas found about the fortress in that place.
For I was then triumphant through the land,With sword and heavy within my hand.
I speak so you may know what I have told;You are the Shah; the chiefs are in your fold.
You are a newcomer, though you may glowWith all the royal of Kay Khosrow.
You see yourself alone; you cannot findThe hidden matters kept beyond your mind.
Enough of words; I shall take up the wine,And crush this anxious thought, this care of mine.”
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In briefEsfandiyar answers with his own line, from Goshtasb through Lohrasp, Aurand, Kay Pashin and Kay Qobad to Fereydoon, and through his Roman mother to Salm. He recounts his war for the Faith, his Seven Stages, and the taking of the Ruyin Dezh.
When heard what said,He smiled; his heart with swelling joy was fed.
He answered, “I have heard your toil and pain,The deeds and cares that made your spirit strain.
Now listen to the deeds my hand has done,The place above the chiefs that I have won.
For Faith I cinched my belt and cleared the landOf idol-worshippers on every hand.
Earth disappeared beneath the heaps of slain;No warrior had seen such war and pain.
, my father, comes of ’s line;The seed of those two kings is also mine.
Lohrasp was son of , king of state,Whose name and standing in his time were great.
Aurand from Kay ’s lineage came,Whose father’s blessings honored Pashin’s name.
Pashin came from Kay ’s royal seed,A king of wisdom, just in thought and deed.
Pursue my line to , whose throneAdorned the world he ruled and called his own.
My mother, too, is ’s child; his reignHolds , the realm he rules as his domain.
And Caesar springs from , whose noble seedHas and justice, ordered law and creed.
Salm was the son of Fereydoon; his nameAmong the kings won sovereign rank and fame.
I speak, and none can say my words are lies;Wrong paths are many; few are right and wise.
Before my fathers, wakeful, great, and brave,You and your forebears held the rank of slave.
No hidden mystery lies in what I say;My kings bestowed your greatness, though your way
Was quick toward vengeance. Hear what I recount;Raise up your hand for truth in the account.
Since Shah Lohrasp gave Goshtasb the throne,My belt stays cinched; my strength and luck are known.
For those who went to Chin, revenge their aim,No voices rose thereafter in acclaim.
Then, at ’s words, my father boundMe, far from feasts where merriment was found.
Then ruin reached Lohrasp while chained I lay,And Turkish forces hid the earth that day.
brought smiths to free me; they were slow,While all my heart was set to strike a blow.
I shouted at the smiths; my patience fled,And from their hands I pulled myself instead.
I rose up from my seat, and with my handBroke shackles, chains, and every binding band.
Then I went to that field of bitter fate,Where Fortune had diminished Goshtasb’s state.
Before me fled and his array,The famed companions fleeing on their way.
I girded my belt, with courage, for the chase,And followed like a lion, fierce of face.
You heard what in my Seven Stages came:The s and all their mighty group of fame.
By guile I entered and hurledConfusion through its realm, upturned its world.
I sought revenge for all Iran; I tiedMy belt for blood of chiefs who fought and died.
You heard my deeds in Chin, and all the strainOf toil and hardship in Turan’s domain.
No from any leopard ever tookSuch pain, nor ’s mouth from fisher’s hook.
High on a mountain, far from human call,There stood a fortress towering over all.
Its people worshipped idols; all around,Confused as drunken men, they could be found.
Since days of and Fereydoon of fame,No man in all the world had named its name.
By valor I took all that fortress held;Its idols, dashed to earth, I broke and felled.
I raised the Fire that bore in flame,Within a brazier; from Paradise it came.
Through victory the one just God bestowed,I took again to Iran’s homeward road.
No enemy remained in any place;No in the temples left a trace.
Alone I sought the battle and its strain;No man in combat bore for me my pain.
Our words have lengthened; let them come to rest;Lift up the cup if thirst is in your breast.”
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In briefRostam counters with Mazandaran, the White Div and Hamavaran, and argues that without him no Kayanian king would have reigned. The two crush each other’s hands until blood runs from the nails, then each promises to unhorse and crown the other tomorrow.
Then spoke to prince :“Our deeds endure; no time their fame can mar.
Now hear in simple justice what I say,A famed old man whose words you ought to weigh.
Had I not crossed alone,My heavy across my shoulder thrown,
Where lay the Shah, , and in chains,Their eyes grown dark beneath their grief and pains,
Who would have torn the ’s heart and brain?Who hoped his arm could meet so great a strain?
I brought the king from bonds back to his throne;Iran rejoiced; good fortune was his own.
I cut the heads from all the sorcerer crew;No vault, no shroud, no grave became their due.
Through Seven Stages, was at my side;My sharp sword won the world, both far and wide.
When went to ’s seat,They fastened heavy fetters on his feet.
I took an army of Iran to fight,To where the chieftain held his place of might.
I killed their king amid the battle’s roar,And made its famous throne a throne no more.
The monarch Kay Kavus lay in their snare,Worn down by grief and burdened by despair.
held Iran in that hour;The world lay sick with pain beneath his power.
One dark night, I went on alone, ahead;I sought for fame, not ease upon a bed.
He saw my shining banner drawing near,And heard my Rakhsh’s neigh ring loud and clear.
He fled Iran, and Chin became his goal;The world gave thanks when justice took control.
Had blood poured from Kay Kavus’s neck, how thenCould have come among us men?
Had no blessed mother borne , whoWould crown , as Khosrow lived to do?
Why boast of Lohrasp’s crown and royal state,Of ’s throne, and call their kingship great?
He bids you bind these hands! What vain design!Not even high heaven shall bind hands like mine;
Without me, where would you have found your throne,Your crown, your ivory seat to call your own?
You are the world’s ; your seedIs , royal in its breed.
From boyhood to this hour of age and gray,No man had spoken so, until today.
My pleading brings me shame; my soft addressDiminishes my worth to something less.”
Prince Esfandiyar laughed at Rostam’s stand,Then firmly gripped the mighty hero’s hand.
He said, “O Rostam, elephant in frame,All men have spoken truly of your fame.
Your arm is thick as any lion’s limb;Your chest and neck, a dragon’s, strong and grim.
Your leopard’s waist is narrow, lean and slight,And twists and turns upon the day of fight.”
He squeezed the hand of Rostam as he spoke;The old man laughed at youth, as at a joke.
From Rostam’s nails the yellow fluid ran;Yet all that pain could not stir such a man.
Then Rostam took his hand and gripped it too:“O king who worships God, I speak to you:
Blessed is famous Shah Goshtasb today,To have a son whose fame none can gainsay.
Blessed is he who gains so fine a son;Through you the world has greater glory won.”
He spoke and held the prince’s hand; the redOf blood across the prince’s features spread.
The prince’s nails welled bloody water; painDrew tight his brows beneath the gripping strain.
Then fortunate Esfandiyar laughed free,And said, “Renowned Rostam, hear this from me:
Drink wine today; tomorrow in the fightWill see you writhe and lose the feast’s delight.
When my black steed is saddled for the frayWith gold, and I don my royal helm that day,
I shall unhorse you, striking with my spear;No feud or vengeance will you seek from here.
I shall bring you, hands bound, before the throne,And say, ‘No fault in him to me was shown.’
I shall entreat him; every point at stakeBetween you shall be settled for your sake.
I shall free you from grief and bitter strain;You shall have wealth and treasure after pain.”
Then Rostam smiled at prince Esfandiyar,And said, “You shall have war enough, by far.
Where have you seen the clash of battle’s course?Where felt the wind of heavy gorzes’ force?
If this is now the aspect of the sky,Love between two such men will fade and die.
Revenge shall come in place of ruddy wine,And bow and , ambush and design.
Tabiras’ roar shall take the harp’s own place;With sword and gorz we then shall greet your face.
Then, glorious Esfandiyar, your eyesWill see the rush and pulse of battle rise.
Tomorrow, when you fight, we two shall standAs man meets man upon the battle land.
I shall seize you from saddle in embrace,And carry you to ’s exalted place.
Then seat you on the famed ivory throne,And crown you with the crown I made my own,
The crown of Kay , the heart’s delight;May Paradise make glad his spirit bright.
I shall unlock my hoards; their riches, too,I shall array in full in front of you.
I shall relieve your troops of all their dearth,And by that act shall raise your crown in worth.
Then I shall go before the Shah; the wayShall see me glad, triumphant, light and gay.
By valor I shall crown you and shall earnThe gratitude of Goshtasb in return.
Then I shall gird my belt to serve, as whenI served the Kayanian kings of men.
I shall clear all the garden’s thorns, and throughMy joy make this old body fresh and new.
When you are Shah and I your Pahlevan, whoCould keep his life and stand against us two?”
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In briefFood is served, and Rostam’s appetite astonishes the camp; he demands his wine unwatered. Weighing his choices in silence, he finds shame in all of them, and warns Esfandiyar that Goshtasb has sent him to die. The prince fixes battle for dawn.
replied, “Enough of speech;These endless words have nothing more to teach.
My belly hungers; half the day is gone;Our talk of strife and battle still runs on.
Bring what you have; let food be served instead,But call no man who talks too much,” he said.
When food was spread and took his seat,They watched amazed at how the chief could eat.
Esfandiyar and all his heroes laidBefore him lambs in lavish spread displayed.
He ate them all, while prince and people stared;The prince’s wonder all his people shared.
The prince said, “Bring a cup; let raw wine pourIn place of cooked wine served to us before.
Now see what Rostam seeks in wine today,And what of Kay he has to say.”
The cupbearer brought wine; the cup was wideEnough to let a ship sail on its tide.
He drank to the king of kings; that spring of redHe drained till dust rose from its empty bed.
The young cupbearer turned again and boreThe royal wine, replenished as before.
Then Rostam spoke to aside:“Why must your water in this wine reside?
Why pour in water, weakening the biteOf ancient wine and robbing it of might?”
Then Bishutan gave orders: “Fill the bowlWith wine and let no water spoil the whole.”
Wine came; they called the minstrels to the feast,And still their wonder at him had not ceased.
The hour of parting neared; the ruby shineRose in great Rostam’s face, suffused with wine.
Then Esfandiyar spoke: “May joy attendYour life as long as time has days to spend.
May wine and all you ate bring you delight;May truth sustain your soul and give it might.”
Then Rostam said, “O prince, may wisdom’s voiceAdmonish you and guide your inward choice.
The wine I drink with you is sweet; it bringsSustenance to the soul where wisdom springs.
If from your heart this hatred you release,Your greatness and your wisdom will increase.
Come from this field, my happy guest to be;Spend some time in my house, in joy with me.
Come grace our house with joy, and do not stayApart from me, your servant, far away.
Then I shall keep each promise I have made,With wisdom brought before you for your aid.
Rest, shun all ill; let human kindness beYour aim, and let your mind awake and see.”
Esfandiyar, the hero, answered so:“Sow no such seed; no shoots from it will grow.
Tomorrow you shall see what heroes do,When I bind tight my girdle facing you.
Do not praise yourself; return today,And make your preparations for the fray.
In battle you shall see me and shall findThe selfsame man with whom at wine you dined.
Accept my counsel, heed the Shah’s commands;Come, let the royal bonds enclose your hands.
Know, before God, the Shah’s command is oneWith God’s own word; give thanks and see it done.
When I leave , I shall make my wayTo Iran, where the Shah and heroes stay.
You shall see more prowess than words express;Seek not to bring me, through this work, distress.”
Then grief and thought weighed down great Rostam’s breast;The world appeared a forest of unrest.
He thought, “To give my hands into his chain,Or rise and hurt him, both are shame and stain.
Both courses are inglorious and base;Both set a bitter precedent in place.
If bonds are mine, my name will suffer blame; will bring my end to grief and shame.
Wherever men repeat this tale, the stainOf lasting blame shall on my name remain.
They will say, ‘A youth came to Zabul; flightFailed Rostam, and his feet were fettered tight.’
Then all my fame will rot in lasting shame;No hue or scent will linger of my name.
But if he falls upon the battlefield,My face before all kings will pale and yield.
They shall declare, ‘He slew the youthful heirBecause the prince’s taunts he could not bear.’
When dead, they will revile me where I lie,And call me faithless underneath the sky.
Again, if I should perish by his hand,All Zabul’s hue and scent will leave the land.
The name of Dastan, ’s own son, will fall;No man from Zabul will find fame at all.
Yet men at least shall quote good words from me,When I have passed beyond what eyes can see.
If any word of counsel stayed unsaid,Then wisdom would demand my life instead.”
Then to that noble-minded prince he said,“Concern has made my face grow pale with dread.
Why speak so much of bonds before my sight?I fear they bring you sorrow, grief, and blight.
Unless high heaven wills it otherwise,No man can read the turning of the skies.
These counsels come from s, and now you turnFrom wisdom’s words a prudent man should learn.
You are still green and guileless; understandYour death is sought by him who rules the land.
While Goshtasb holds the royal seat and crown,He will not set his thirst for kingship down.
He keeps you roaming through a world of pain,And rears you through its hardships, strain on strain.
He searched the world with wisdom’s axe in hand,His wit an adze to shape the work he planned:
To find a famous man who would not yieldOr turn from fighting you upon the field,
So that the warrior’s hand might do you harm,And crown and throne be subject to his arm.
For this, I may cry curses on the crown,And on a pillow made of dust lie down.
Will you expose my soul to lasting blame?Why will you not examine well your aim?
You bring this pain upon yourself; beware:Think ill and ill will be your coming share.
Do not act boyishly, O prince; refrain;Delight not in the ill that brings us pain.
Do not bring sorrow on our souls today;Keep harm from both our lives, I beg and pray.
Respect both God and me; do not betrayMy life or yours by taking such a way.
You have no need to fight with me, or bendYour strength toward this assault, or thus contend.
Fate drives you with your troops toward your last breath;My hand will bring you ruin and your death.
My name will live in shame; may Goshtasb seeAn evil end for what he brings on me!”
When proud Esfandiyar had heard him through,He said, “Famed Rostam, hear what I tell you:
Recall the words an ancient sage once said,When wisdom and his soul were joined and wed:
‘An aged trickster is a fool; successAnd wisdom do not make his folly less.’
You ply these tricks, still hoping to evadeThe collar and the bonds for you now laid.
You wish all those who hear your words to takeYour fair speech for the truth, for your own sake;
To call my counsel foul, and you the manOf wisdom, doing all the good he can.
They will say, ‘With fair bearing Rostam cameAnd offered hope; the prince deserves the blame:
He turned from Rostam’s words, though Rostam’s partHad been to treat him well, with generous heart.
He held each plea in scorn; his tongue let fallIts bitter words in answer to them all.’
Know that I will not turn away, disownThe Shah’s command, for either crown or throne.
Through him come good and evil; in his handMy Hell and Paradise together stand.
May what you ate today bring strength to you,And harm to all who wish you evil too.
Now go to in safety and repeatAll that you saw and heard when we did meet.
Prepare your weapons; all for battle layIn readiness and have no more to say.
Come fight at dawn; prepare, and do not stayProlonging this affair with more delay.
Tomorrow, on the field, before your sightThe world will darken, losing all its light.
You shall learn how the valiant meet and fight,How true men wage their battles in their might.”
Then Rostam said, “O prince of lion’s heart,If this is your wish, I shall do my part.
On swift I shall greet you face to face;Your head shall taste my ’s hard embrace.
You heard the men around you; what they saidYou took on trust, and kept within your head:
‘No sword, however fierce the battle’s strife,Can harm Esfandiyar or end his life.’
Tomorrow you will see my spear, and feelHow, with the reins drawn round, my horse can wheel.
Thereafter you will never seek a fightWith men renowned upon the field of might.”
The young man laughed; his noble nature gaveWay to that laughter and became its slave.
He said, “O seeker after fame, take heed;Why did our talk rouse anger with such speed?
Tomorrow you shall learn on battle’s plainWhat proven men can do through strife and pain.
My horse is like a mountain; here I stand,One man alone, without a warrior band.
Should my gorz’s wind touch your head, then weepYour mother shall, with liver’s anguish deep.
If you live, I shall bind you fast and rideTo the Shah, with you upon my saddle tied.
So that no servant, trusting in his arm,Shall rise in war to do his sovereign harm.”
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In briefLeaving the tent, Rostam addresses it as the house of Jamshid, Kavus and Kay Khosrow, shamed by its present tenant. Esfandiyar answers with a roll of those who sit in it now. Bishutan pleads once more, and the prince will not hear him.
When left the tent, he paused to wait,And stood a while before its outer gate.
He spoke to it: “O house of hope and fame,Blessed were the days when through you came.
Great were your days when mighty reigned,And under that joy remained.
Your door of is shut; no worth is shownBy him who sits upon your royal throne.”
heard Rostam’s words and cameOn foot to meet the warrior of fame.
He said, “O man of judgment, why displaySuch anger at this royal tent today?
A sage might call this land :‘The land of uproar’ suits Zabulistan.
A guest, once fed, repays his host with blame,And speaks with scorn the gardener’s very name.”
Then to the tent: “Ill were the days you knewWhen Jamshid found his shelter here in you.
Yet he forsook the path that God had shown,And lost earth’s joy and Paradise his own.
You served Shah Kavus as a sheltering wall,And spread your shade above his soldiers all.
He sought God’s mysteries; he searched the skiesTo see the stars made clear before his eyes.
He filled the earth with tumult and with raids,With clubs and plunder, and with blades.
now owns you, and is near,Before his presence, honored, wise, and clear.
On one side sits ; from ParadiseHe came with ’s wise advice.
Good sits facing him; his mindLeaves worldly grief and pleasure far behind.
In front stands glorious prince Esfandiyar,Who gladdens turning heaven, every star.
Good hearts revive through him; his sword has madeThe wicked bow in bondage, all afraid.”
The mounted hero left; the prince’s eyeFollowed the famous horseman passing by.
He turned to Bishutan: “We cannot hideSuch valor; prowess must not be denied.
No horse or horseman like him have I known;How he will fare in battle is not shown.
If armed he comes to meet me, breast to breast,He looms, an elephant on Mount Gang’s crest.
His farr and handsome form delight the sight;I fear tomorrow brings him down in fight.
The glory of his face inflames my heart,Yet from the Maker’s word I will not part.
When Rostam comes tomorrow to the field,By me his shining day to night shall yield.”
Then Bishutan replied, “Now hear my plea;My brother, stop; this must not come to be.
I told you once and now repeat my view:My heart will never turn from what is true.
Oppress no man; no noble will remainWith head bowed down to injury and pain.
Rest here tonight; at dawn, with none beside,Go to his palace; let this grief subside.
Let us make glad the day within his hall,And answer what they ask us, one and all.
Among the mighty and among the least,His deeds bring good to all, from west to east.
He will not turn from what you bid him do;I find his heart keeps faith and pledge with you.
Why speak with hate and wrath? Wash hate awayFrom your heart; clear your eyes of wrath today.”
The prince replied, “The rose garden has borneWithin one corner an unwelcome thorn.
A man of pure religion would not chooseSuch words as those you now have dared to use.
If you are Iran’s , heart and earAnd eye of warriors, then make this clear:
How can you praise a course, however wise,That brings the Shah’s dishonor to our eyes?
Then all our cares and labors go to waste,And Zardosht’s faith lies openly disgraced.
It teaches those who break the Shah’s commandWill find their place in Hell’s consuming land.
You tell me, ‘Sin! Reject the Shah today;Turn from the words of Goshtasb; disobey.’
You speak, but how can I pursue that way,And turn from what he thinks and has to say?
If you have fears for me, dismiss them now;Today I break that fear, and show you how:
No man dies till his time; a man of fameDoes not die, for he leaves a mighty name.
Tomorrow you shall see me face and fightThis clawed and show a warrior’s might.”
Said Bishutan, “O king, why must you dwellOn battle still, with more of it to tell?
Since first you reached the age of and bow, had never thought to find you so.
You let the into your heart, and spurnThe counsel of this guide, which you should learn.
Your heart is obstinate in strife; I tearTo shreds the very garment that I wear.
How can I cast this terror from my heart,When I am breaking utterly apart?
Two warriors, two lions; who can guessWhose back the other’s weight to earth will press?”
The prince gave no reply; no word was said;Pain filled his heart, and pride possessed his head.
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In briefRostam calls for his armor and speaks to it. Zal begs him to submit, to buy the prince off, or to hide; Rostam answers that he will lift Esfandiyar unhurt from the saddle and crown him himself. Zal calls the plan madness and prays all night.
When reached his palace, he stood byAnd watched his comrades with a searching eye.
came and found him pale with grief;The hero spoke in gloom, beyond relief:
“Bring me my Indian sword and battle gear,My and my helmet; bring them here.
Bring bow, , tiger-skin to wear,My , heavy , jowshan to bear.”
Zavareh bade the treasurer obey,And bring the arms that lay concealed away.
When Rostam saw his gear, he shook his head,And drew a deep sigh from his breast, and said:
“O , you have rested for a whileFrom battle’s noise and danger’s bitter trial.
Now stand firm in the task that waits for you;Be fortune’s shirt in all that we must do.
What field is this, where two bold lions fight,Both roaring as they meet in all their might?
Now what will bring to bear?What move will he attempt? What will he dare?”
When had heard these words, his heart grew sore;The ancient man grew troubled more and more.
He said, “Famed , what words are theseThat strip my troubled spirit of its ease?
Since first you mounted battle’s saddle, youHave kept one heart, sincere and firm and true.
Obeying Shahs, you always held your headOn high, your heart released from pain and dread.
I fear your days are drawing to their close,Your star is falling into deep repose.
They will uproot the house of Zal and throwIts wives and children to the dust below.
If young Esfandiyar should take your lifeUpon the field, amid the battle’s strife,
No water, soil, or height of ’s groundWill last; where high land stood, a pit is found.
Yet if through you some harm should fall on him,Your own exalted fame will fade and dim.
Those telling this will shatter your renown,And bring your ancient glory crashing down.
Men say, ‘He slew a prince of Iran’s land,A valiant rider perished by his hand.’
So, stand before him as a loyal man,Or leave your home and hide while still you can.
Seek some obscure retreat unknown to fame,That none on earth may ever hear your name.
This wrong would darken all your soul with fear;Beware the youthful prince; do not draw near.
With wealth and toil redeem the words you said;Set no axe where Chin’s brocade is spread.
Prepare rich robes to give his men; bestowYour wealth upon him; buy release from woe.
As soon as he departs the ’s tide,Mount lofty and journey at his side.
Once safe, attend the prince along the way,Until you see the Shah in his array.
How can he wrong you when he sees your face?Would such a deed bring Iran’s monarch grace?”
The ancient hero Rostam answered Zal:“Do not think lightly of this strife at all.
Long have I lived and known both good and ill;Through years of manhood, I have faced them still.
I reached the s within ,And fought the men of fierce .
I fought and Chin’s great Khan; the groundBeneath his steed shook, trembling all around.
If I should flee the prince, retain no moreYour halls and gardens as before.
When I put on my tiger-skin to fight,I drag the moon to dust from heaven’s height.
You spoke of pleas; I pleaded, as you said,And all the book of humble service read.
He scorns my words and holds my counsel light,And turns from wisdom and discerning sight.
But if he bends his head from Saturn’s height,And greets me warmly with a heart upright,
No gems or treasure would I grudge that guest;No gorz, no club, no sword, no armored vest.
Through many sittings I have said my part;I hold but wind for all my speaking art.
Tomorrow, if he is resolved to fight,Let not your heart be troubled for his plight.
I shall not take my sword in hand to slay;I shall not wound his body in the fray.
I shall rein round to meet him; he shall feelNo gorz-blow, nor my spearhead’s wounding steel.
I shall block his path, grasp him round the waist;My strength shall hold him, firmly clasped and braced.
From saddle I shall lift him in embrace,And welcome him with all a monarch’s grace.
I shall seat him high on our splendid throne,And open wide each treasury I own.
When he has stayed three days as guest with me,Upon the fourth, when dawn makes darkness flee,
When day casts off its lapis robe of night,The yellow jeweled cup comes into sight,
Then I shall gird myself and leave this placeWith him, to look upon ’s face.
Then seat him on the ivory throne and crownHis head with that bright joy of high renown.
I shall gird up, his slave with all my heart,And from Esfandiyar I shall not part.
You know the deeds I did for crown and state,Before Kay ’s throne in years of fate.
Yet now you bid me hide in some retreat,Or yield my hands in chains before defeat!”
Zal laughed to hear the words that Rostam said,Then paused in thought and slowly shook his head.
He answered, “Son, your words lack head and tail;Only the mad could credit such a tale.
Qobad sat gloomy, with no crown to wear,No throne, no ancient treasure in his care.
Do not equate him with Iran’s own king,Whose wealth is old, whose judgment guides each thing.
Esfandiyar’s name is graven as a signUpon the Chinese ruler’s signet fine.
You say, ‘I shall lift him from his saddle’s seat,And bear him in my arms to Zal’s retreat.’
No elder should speak thus; do not pursueThe path of thanklessness in what you do.
I told you what my counsel is; you knowMy judgment, chief; now choose the way you go.”
He bowed his head to earth in humble praise,And blessed the Maker of the world and days.
He prayed, “Victorious Judge, turn ill away;Avert from us the grief of this dark day.”
Until the sun rose from the mountain height,His tongue prayed tirelessly throughout the night.
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In briefAt dawn Rostam posts Zavareh with the troops and rides out alone. He offers to let the armies fight instead; Esfandiyar refuses, and the two agree that no one will help either of them. Spears, swords and gorzes break, and their wrestling ends in deadlock.
When day arrived, brave ’s frame was casedIn , tiger-skin above it placed.
He tied his to the saddle tight,Then mounted , an elephant in might.
He summoned brave to his side,And spoke at length of troops he must provide.
“Go marshal all the men and take your standUpon those sandy hills with steady hand.”
Zavareh went and mustered for the frayThe troops that toward the battlefield made way.
When matchless Rostam from his palace came,Spear in his hand, the troops blessed him by name.
“May horse and and saddle never knowYour loss,” they cried, “wherever you may go.”
Zavareh followed, trusted in command,As Rostam rode toward ’s river strand.
His lips were full of boasts, his heart of thought,As to the riverbank his way he sought.
His brother and the troops stayed at their base;Alone, he neared Iran’s lines at wary pace.
He told Zavareh privately, “This manIs Div-like, ill in nature and in plan.
Even now I would restrain the prince from fight,And lead his soul toward understanding’s light.
I fear I must fight him; I do not knowWhat afterward the course of things will show.
Remain here; keep the army in your hand;I go to see what fortune now has planned.
If I shall find him furious in his mood,I will not call the chiefs to join the feud.
Alone I fight and spare my men the painOf wounds received upon the battle plain.
The man whose heart is just will, in the end,Win joy and victory, with fate his friend.”
He left the riverbank and sought the height,Amazed at how the world turned in his sight.
He called, “, renowned and great,Your match has come; prepare for war; I wait.”
The prince heard Rostam calling from on high,An ancient lion’s roaring battle-cry.
He laughed: “I rose from sleep prepared to fight;Look, I am ready now to meet your might.”
He bade them bring his helm, his breastplate’s steel,His spear and ox-head gorz, for war’s ordeal.
He donned his jowshan, set upon his headHis helm, as he had said.
He bade them saddle up his charger black,And bring it to him, harness on its back.
He saw the sable horse; his strength and prideOf manhood stirred him at the horse’s side.
He set his spear’s butt firmly on the ground,Then vaulted to the saddle with a bound.
As when a leopard lands upon the backOf some wild ass that cries at the attack.
The soldiers watched him, marveling at the sight,And blessed their famous champion’s strength and might.
He rode, and saw upon his steed aloneGreat Rostam, with no comrade of his own.
He called to upon his steed,“To fight this man, no friend or mate I need.
Since he stands there alone, I too shall go,And mount that lofty height before the foe.”
Both rode to war as though the world had ceasedTo hold a place for revelry or feast.
Old man and youth drew near, two chiefs of might,Two proud and noble lions poised to fight.
Their chargers neighed; the field seemed split and rent,As through the battlefield their voices went.
Then Rostam shouted, “Man of happy star,Of joyful heart, whose fortunes prosper far,
Do not contend like this; let evil cease,And hear a wise man’s counsel here in peace.
If war and spilling blood are what you choose,If such a bitter struggle you would use,
Then let me bring ’s brave horsemen here,In jowshans, s for their gear.
Call Iran’s warriors also to the test,To show whose skill and valor prove the best.
Let both great armies meet, and battle rage,While you and I stand back, their strength to gauge.
Bloodshed will meet your wish upon the ground;You shall see men rush in and grapple round.”
“Vain words! At dawn, to fight, you left your hall,And from this height,” the prince said, “made your call.
Why set these traps and tricks? It would appearYou see decline and straitened fortune near.
Why should I bring war down on Zabul’s plain?Why should Iran and Kabul both be slain?
May this be foreign to our custom still;Our faith does not permit so great an ill.
Why should I send Iranians to fall,And crown myself as monarch over all?
I lead against whatever foe draws near,Though claws of leopards face me, I stand here.
If you need helpers, summon whom you choose;I need no helper’s strength for me to use.
God helps me in the fight, and fortune’s graceWill smile upon my labor in this place.
You seek a fight, and I desire it too;Without our troops, I shall contend with you.
Then we shall see if my steed turns away,And riderless returns to stall today,
Or Rostam’s charger, masterless, alone,Turns back toward the palace he has known.”
The champions agreed that none should aidEither of them, whatever blows were made.
They fought at length; their spearpoints would assailThe jowshans; rivets scattered in a trail.
Their spearheads broke beneath the strokes they plied;Then each must draw the sharp sword at his side.
They raised their sharpened swords and wheeled to fight,Both charging, now to left and now to right.
Their tempered swords broke under blows they dealt;They drew their gorzes, each from his own belt.
They rained down gorz-blows in the savage clash,Like stones that tumble from a height and crash.
Like raging lions, wrathful, both men pressedTheir blows upon the battered limbs and chest.
The heavy gorzes’ hafts broke stroke by stroke;Their hands were balked when those stout handles broke.
They gripped a leather belt, prepared to strain,Their chargers’ breasts uplifted on the plain.
One end was in Esfandiyar’s strong hand;The other Rostam held to make his stand.
Both pulled toward themselves with all their might,Two brazen-bodied champions in the fight.
Each strained against the other, yet no forceCould shift one lion seated on his horse.
The riders drew apart; their horses’ strainBore witness to the battle and its pain.
Their mouths held foam with blood and dust ingrained;Their jowshans, s, in shreds remained.
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In briefZavareh taunts the waiting Iranians and Esfandiyar’s sons answer. Zavareh kills Nush Azar and Faramarz kills Mehr-e-Nush. Rostam swears he gave no order and offers his brother and son for punishment; Esfandiyar refuses the exchange and promises to pin him to his horse.
The heroes fought; the struggle held them fast,’s son was long delayed as hours passed.
brought his troops from farther ground,Their hearts seared, bent on vengeance, battle-bound.
He asked the Iranians, “Where is ? WhySit silent on this day as hours go by?
You came to meet the in the fight,And now are caught in Rostam’s grip of might.
You shall not bind his hands; this is no dayTo sit upon the field and shun the fray.”
Zavareh cursed; his speech was harsh to hear,Unseemly words that struck the listening ear.
A famous son of heardThose taunts, and anger rose at every word.
His name was , renowned and bright,A joyful youth who felled horsemen in fight.
He faced the in a raging mood,And loosed his tongue in words both harsh and rude.
He said, “A noble warrior takes his standAnd slays the wicked at the Shah’s command.
Esfandiyar has not commanded usTo fight with dogs and make a battle thus.
Who turns from his command or judgment’s light?Who dares to break the pledge he gave outright?
But if you choose to wage an unjust fight,And strike the first blow, scorning what is right,
Then you shall see how fighting men engageWith sword and spear and heavy gorzes’ rage.”
Zavareh cried, “Now strike, and do not spare;Set crowns of blood upon each chieftain’s hair.”
Zavareh rode before his troops; a cryOf battle rose into the air on high.
They slew Iranians, countless, in the fight;Nush Azar joined the battle at that sight.
He mounted on his noble dun, astride,An Indian sword held flashing at his side.
A warrior named , proud of heart,Felled horsemen, glad to play a warrior’s part.
He bore Rostam’s spear; he would not strayFrom close behind him as he went his way.
When Nush Azar saw Alva far away,He drew his sword out, ready for the fray.
He struck his head; his blade came down, well placed,And cleft the famous rider to the waist.
Zavareh spurred his warhorse toward the slain,And cried to Nush Azar across the plain:
“You felled him; now stand firm, and face my might;I never counted Alva fit to fight.”
Zavareh drove his spear into his chest;His head fell to the earth, his life at rest.
When famed Nush Azar on the field lay dead,His army’s Fortune faltered, turned, and fled.
His brother, , in anguish cried;His heart seethed at the loss of him who died.
The swordsman’s heart grew sorrowful; he spurredHis massive steed, by bitter sorrow stirred.
He rode before the lines; in grief’s deep throes,The foam of anguish to his lips arose.
Then came fiercely to the fight,An Indian sword in hand, with tusker’s might.
With him the noble Mehr-e-Nush engaged;On either side the troops cried as they raged.
Both noble youths were of a lordly strain,A prince and upon the plain.
Like raging lions both rushed in to close,And with their swords exchanged each other’s blows.
Though Mehr-e-Nush fought fiercely in the field,He lacked the strength to make the hero yield.
He raised his sword to strike the famed man dead,And cast into the dust that noble head.
But his own steed’s neck took the falling blade;Its severed head upon the earth was laid.
Then Faramarz slew him, now forced to standOn foot; his blood made rubies of the land.
When saw his brother lying slain,The earth beneath him red with rose-like stain,
He came to prince Esfandiyar in grief,Where battle raged around that mighty chief.
He said, “O fierce male lion, see the powerOf Sagzi troops who fight us in this hour.
Both Nush Azar and Mehr-e-Nush lie slain;The Sagzi brought them low upon the plain.
You fight, while we are grieving; dust is spreadUpon our youths and princes lying dead.
Eternal shame will rest upon our race;These fools have dragged our honor to disgrace.”
The chief’s heart filled with anger; in his brainRose rage, while tears flowed for the newly slain.
He said, “O wicked Rostam, can this beThe pact of chiefs, the pledge you made to me?
You said, ‘I will not bring my troops to fight.’You have no care for honor in men’s sight.
No shame before your God or me you know;Fear when He asks what your account will show.
Do you not know that men who break their wordWin no men’s praise when all the tale is heard?
Two Sagzi killed my sons; in folly stillThey persevere and will not turn from ill.”
When Rostam heard, his heart grew sore with grief;He trembled like a branch with every leaf.
He swore by sun, the Shah’s own life and head,By field and scimitar, and sternly said:
“I never bade them fight so; theirs the blame,And those who joined won none of my acclaim.
My brother’s hands I bind, if he has ledThe men to this foul deed where blood is shed.
And Faramarz, his hands bound, I shall bringBefore you, God-revering prince and king.
Slay them for those dear sons and let your mindBe free of this vain deed; leave it behind.”
Esfandiyar replied, “It is not rightTo shed snake’s blood for peacocks in my sight.
Such vengeance would be ugly in our eyes;The custom of proud kings this act denies.
You wicked man, take thought for your own fate;Your time draws close; prepare, and do not wait.
With arrows I shall mix both thighs of yoursWith , as milk with water blends and pours,
So servants, after this, will not opposeTheir masters, seeking vengeance as their foes.
If you survive, I bind your hands today,And take you to the Shah without delay.
But if my arrows kill you on this ground,Revenge for both my noble sons is found.”
Then Rostam said, “What profit can we claimFrom all this talk, except a loss of name?
Turn toward God; to Him your heart confide,For He alone to goodness is our guide.”
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In briefThe archery begins. Esfandiyar’s arrows pierce Rostam and Rakhsh while Rostam’s cannot hurt him. Rostam takes to a height on foot, refuses Zavareh’s horse, and crosses the river bleeding. Esfandiyar mourns his sons, sends them home, and marvels at his enemy.
They took their bows and arrow shafts in hand,And darkness seemed to fall across the land.
Their arrowheads struck fire; the shafts they spedStitched armor to the flesh like needle-thread.
grew troubled in the fight;His brow and face were furrowed at the sight.
When he reached for his arrows and his bow,No man escaped the shaft that he let go.
The hero drew his mighty bow; the lightOf the sun grew pale before his fearful might.
His arrowhead was adamant; beforeIts point made s paper, nothing more.
When shafts flew from Esfandiyar’s strong bow,Both and great received the blow.
The prince rode round him; Rostam’s arrows flew,But none could pierce that body through and through.
Each shaft the prince released left Rostam sore;His own shafts failed; he could withstand no more.
Bewildered at such fighting, Rostam cried,“Esfandiyar has brass for flesh and hide!”
When Rakhsh grew weak, the arrows lodged in him,And horse and rider bled from every limb,
The rider, swift as wind, sprang from his steed,And turned toward the heights in bitter need.
Then wounded Rakhsh went homeward on his own,And left his master on the height alone.
Blood poured from Rostam’s body like a tide;As if Mount shook, its strength denied.
Esfandiyar laughed loudly at the sight,And cried, “Famed Rostam, where has gone your might?
Why has the raging elephant grown weak?Why do these arrow-wounds such havoc wreak?
Where now are and manhood, and name,Your warlike eminence and ancient fame?
Why have you fled away and scaled the heightBecause a lion’s voice has filled the fight?
Why has the elephant turned fox? Your forceHas failed you now; your hands have stayed their course.
You made the s weep, and the wild beasts feelAs though they roasted in your burning steel.”
saw the glossy Rakhsh return,Wounded and riderless, and felt grief burn.
The world grew dark before Zavareh’s eyes;He hurried toward the field with grieving cries.
He saw great Rostam’s wounds, still open wide,Unbound, with blood that flowed on every side.
“Rise, mount my horse,” he said. “For you I wearRevenge’s jowshan; yours shall be my care.”
But Rostam answered, “Go to and say:‘The glory of ’s race has passed away.
Seek out a cure for wounds that grieve me so;What remedy is there for all this woe?
If I survive these arrows and this strife,Know, Zal, my mother gives me newborn life.’
Go now, and find a cure for Rakhsh, I pray;I shall come after, though I long delay.”
Zavareh left his brother in despair,And turned toward Rakhsh, whose wounds were hard to bear.
Esfandiyar remained below the height,And called to famed Rostam, still in his sight:
“Famed Rostam, on the height why do you wait?Who now will guide your steps and set them straight?
Throw down your bow; cast tiger-skin aside;Unfasten now the girdle at your side.
Repent, yield both your hands to bondage now;No further hurt from me shall touch your brow.
Wounded, you shall be brought before the throne,And have no guilt laid on you as your own.
Before you fight, set your affairs in hand;Appoint a guardian to protect this land.
Ask God to pardon all your sins; He mayForgive them when you turn to Him and pray.
Perhaps the righteous Judge will be your guideWhen you depart this world where none abide.”
Then Rostam said, “The hour is growing late;Our hands must cease from battle and from hate.
Return now to your troops; the night is near,Who seeks a battle when the dark is here?
I shall go home, and in my palace lie,To rest awhile and let sleep close my eye.
I shall bind up my wounds and summon allMy people, those I have, to hear my call:
Zavareh, , and Zal by name,And all my other kin who have won fame.
And now I will perform what you require,For loyalty to you is my desire.”
Esfandiyar, the brazen-bodied, cried,“Old self-willed man, so swollen with your pride,
You are a mighty man, in combat tried,With spells and schemes and counsel at your side.
I marked your falseness through this whole affair,And long to see your overthrow laid bare.
Yet I will grant you quarter through the night;Go home, but do not scheme to shun the fight.
Fulfill the words you pledged to me before;Spin out no further speeches; speak no more.”
Then Rostam said, “I shall do as you say,And chant to drive my wounds’ distress away.”
Then Rostam turned away; the prince’s eyeWatched how the wounded hero would pass by.
Like some great ship, he crossed the river’s tide,And prayed that God would heal his wounded side.
He said, “O just and holy Judge on high,If from these wounds I fall beneath the sky,
Who of the mighty will avenge me, whoWill take my heart, my judgment, customs too?”
Esfandiyar kept watching as he went,And saw him reach the farther bank, near spent.
He cried, “This is no man! Before my eyes,A mighty elephant of power and size!”
He crossed the water, though his wounds were sore,In anguish from the shafts his body bore.
In wonder stood the prince; his voice was raisedTo God, the mighty Judge, whom thus he praised:
“You shaped him as You wished, by Your command,And graced both earth and time with one so grand.”
When he returned, from out the royal tentRose cries of grief and sorrowful lament.
Then came forth, oppressed by grief,For both young princes dead beyond relief.
The prince’s tent lay on the dust; the greatHad torn their garments, mourning that sad fate.
He left his steed; within his lap he laidThe heads of those two chiefs, and mourned, dismayed.
He cried, “Alas, my two young warriors slain!Your souls no more in these weak forms remain!”
Then he told Bishutan, “Rise; weep no more;Let not such tears upon their bodies pour.
I see no gain in all these tears and grief;We must not cling to life, for life is brief.
Both young and old, we all must pass away;May wisdom guide us on our final day.”
In golden coffins, each on a teak bier,He sent them to the crowned Shah, far from here.
He sent his father word: “Your counsel’s treeHas borne its fruit; behold what comes to me.
You launched the ship; you sought for your commandGreat Rostam’s service, subject to your hand.
When and appearIn coffins, do not lend your ear.
My bull is in its hide; none yet can sayWhat fate may bring to me upon my way.
You glory on your throne while I must burn;That throne and ease will end when fortunes turn.”
He sat upon his throne beneath grief’s shade,And weighed the words and warnings Rostam made.
Then he told Bishutan, “A lion drawsAway before a valiant warrior’s claws.
Today I looked on Rostam’s mighty frame,His strength and stature, worthy of his fame.
I praised the holy God, whom we revere,From whom come hope and dread and trembling fear.
His Maker shaped him so; all praise is dueTo Him who made the world and all we view.
His deeds were such: where Chin’s deep waters sweep,His thumb could draw the from the deep.
His breath drew leopards from the open land;Such were the mighty workings of his hand.
Yet I so pierced his body with my bowThat pools of blood lay on the earth below.
He left the height on foot, as he had said,With jowshan, sword, and to the stream he sped.
He came out of the water, wounded sore,His body full of arrowheads he bore.
I think that, when his palace meets his eye,His soul will rise to Saturn in the sky.”
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In briefAt home Rostam’s wounds are dressed while Zal, Rudabeh, Zavareh and Faramarz grieve. He admits that neither his sword nor his grip nor his arrows can touch the prince, and speaks of flight. Zal proposes summoning the Simorgh instead.
Now reached his palace; perceivedThe wounds his son in battle had received.
wept with in grief;His wounds burned in their hearts beyond relief.
When had heard the household cries,She tore her face and hair with anguished sighs.
Zavareh came and loosed his belt; the restRemoved the from his breast.
The learned of his country also came,And sat around the hero’s wounded frame.
Then was ordered brought; the healers, too,Were brought to see what remedies could do.
Wise Zal tore at his hair and bowed his head,And pressed his face to Rostam’s wounds and said:
“Still living, old and gray, I see my son;I never saw him thus, my cherished one!”
Then Rostam said, “What use are grief and cries?What has occurred was written in the skies.
The matter facing me is harder still,And deeper cares my troubled spirit fill.
However much I plead, my words impartNo softness to the prince’s stony heart.
His arrogance commands his word and deed;In every way he seeks distress to breed.
I roamed the world and learned its hidden lore,And learned what lay revealed, from shore to shore.
I seized the ’s waist and hurled him low,As lightly as a willow branch men throw.
Yet from I turn awayBefore his strength and prowess in the fray.
My flying shafts would pierce an anvil’s face,And scorn the strongest shield in any place.
Yet when they struck his armor in the fight,They proved like thorns on stone despite their might.
If I reached out, a stone within my graspWas like a citron resting in my clasp.
I seized Esfandiyar’s belt; my strong handWas humbled, with the strength at its command.
If any saw my blade displayed,It hid beneath the rocks in fear and shade.
Yet that same sword could neither cut nor shredHis , nor the silk upon his head.
Thank God that night spread darkness through the skies,And in that darkness dimmed the prince’s eyes.
I slipped that dragon’s grip but cannot seeIf from this plight I ever shall be free.
No other course remains for me to try:Tomorrow I shall mount my Rakhsh and fly.
I leave no trace to show him where I fled,Though severed heads through he may spread.
At last, he will grow tired of evil done,Though slow to tire of it, that wicked one.”
Then Zal replied, “My son, give heed and hear;Remember what I say, and lend your ear.
Each worldly task has doors through which to tread;Death has another door that lies ahead.
I know one remedy; let this be tried:I shall summon the as our guide.
If she will guide us now, our lands shall stand;Else ruin comes from that foul prince’s hand.”
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In briefZal burns the Simorgh’s feather. The bird draws out the arrowheads and heals Rostam and Rakhsh, warns that Esfandiyar’s killer is doomed in both worlds, then leads Rostam to a tamarisk beside the sea and teaches him to make the fatal arrow.
When all three fixed upon that bold design, climbed a height beneath the starlight’s shine.
Three censers full of fire he bore that night;Three watchful, valiant men climbed to the height.
Upon the summit, spell-wise Zal now stayed,And drew the feather from its rich brocade.
He lit a censer’s fire amid the gloom,And burned a portion of the ’s plume.
A watch of that dark night had passed; on highA cloud as black as iron filled the sky.
The bird looked down from heaven toward the height,And saw the fire below her burning bright.
Zal sat before it, sunk in grief and woe;The troubled bird came down to earth below.
Zal came before her, aloeswood to bear,And offered praise and bowed his head in prayer.
He filled three censers with their fragrant store;Down both his cheeks his liver’s blood would pour.
The Simorgh said, “O king, what grief or fearHas made you burn my plume to call me here?”
Zal said, “May this affliction fall insteadUpon the ill-born foeman’s guilty head.
The body of lion-hearted liesWith wounds that fill my heart with anguished cries.
His wounds have brought him close to loss of life;No man has seen such ruin born of strife.
And , it seems, is near to dying too,So sharply have the arrows pierced him through.
has come to fight us here;He seeks but war and makes his purpose clear.
He seeks no land or treasure, nor a crown;He wants the tree, its root and fruit, cut down.”
The Simorgh said, “O , take heart;Let grief and fear from your worn soul depart.
Now let me see both Rakhsh and Rostam here,That proud world-giving chief, whom men revere.”
Then Zal sent word to Rostam where he lay:“Bestir yourself and come without delay.
Give orders too that Rakhsh be brought along,And bring him straight to me; do not be long.”
When Rostam reached that steep and lofty place,The knowing bird looked on the hero’s face:
“O mighty elephant, whose hand could dealSuch grievous wounds as those you now reveal?
Why did you seek Esfandiyar in fight?Why set your lap with battle’s fire alight?”
Then Zal replied, “O queen of love and grace,Since you have shown to us your holy face,
Where shall I take my refuge if my sonShould find no cure? Of hope there will be none.
They will destroy and strip it bareFor lions’ dens and for the leopard’s lair.
Our race will be uprooted from the land;What remedy remains at our command?”
The bird surveyed his wounds with knowing eye,And saw where all the means to heal might lie.
Four arrowheads she drew; her beak appliedTo wounded flesh drew out the blood inside.
She rubbed her feather on each wound he bore;Great Rostam’s strength and she did restore.
She said, “Bind up your wounds and rest one week;Avoid all danger; safety you must seek.
With milk, wet one of my own feathers through;Then stroke the wounds the arrows dealt to you.”
She called for Rakhsh, then pressed her beak to aidHis right foreleg, where arrow-wounds were made.
Six arrowheads she drew; his neck was freed,And no wound marred the body of the steed.
Then Rakhsh neighed out, and Rostam laughed for joy;No grief remained their gladness to destroy.
The Simorgh said, “O elephant in might,Most famed of all the warriors who fight,
Why seek to fight Esfandiyar, whose frameIs brass, a prince whose wars have won him fame?”
He answered, “Had he not proposed my chains,My heart would not be troubled by these pains.
For death is easier than shame to bear,Should I hold back from fighting and not dare.”
She said, “To bow your head before his might,Down to the dust, brings no disgrace or slight.
He is a warrior-prince, both pure and bright;He bears God’s farr, the grace of sacred light.
If you will make a covenant with me,Repent this fight and let your anger flee,
Seek not to prove your strength exceeds his mightWhen you contend with him in open fight.
Tomorrow, plead with him, and let him takeYour flesh and soul, offered for his own sake.
Then if his time is moving toward its end,He will reject the pleas that you extend.
Then I shall find the means, and, this once done,Shall raise your head as high as heaven’s sun.”
When Rostam heard, his heart was filled with cheer;The thought of being bound brought no more fear.
He said, “I shall obey what you have said,Though swords rain from the sky upon my head.”
The Simorgh said, “In love I now revealThe hidden doom that heaven’s signs conceal.
Whoever sheds that hero’s sacred bloodWill meet dark fortune rising like a flood.
Throughout his life, he shall not find reliefFrom pain; his treasure, too, shall come to grief.
Ill fortune in this world will bring him pain;Beyond this life, more hardships shall remain.
If you agree with all that I have told,Against your enemy you shall be bold.
This very night a wonder I shall show,And stop the evil words your lips let flow.
Go mount on Rakhsh; a you must choose,Whose steel is bright with gleaming water’s hues.”
He fastened tight the belt around his waist,Then mounted Rakhsh, and toward the sea he raced.
He reached the sea; above him, all grew dimBeneath the Simorgh flying over him.
When Rostam came beside the water’s face,The noble bird descended to that place.
A tamarisk stood rooted, rising high;The royal bird perched there against the sky.
She showed a dry path; musky fragrance stirredUpon the wind that blew about the bird.
She called him close and gently stroked his head;And then the knowing Simorgh spoke and said:
“Choose out the straightest slender branch on high,Its tip raised up toward the open sky.
This tamarisk is Esfandiyar’s doom;Do not mistake it for mere wood or bloom.
Before the fire, make straight this shaft you hold;Choose one fine arrowhead, well made and old.
Set the feather and arrowhead in place;I have revealed the harm that he must face.”
When Rostam cut the branch, he left the shore,And rode toward his halls; the branch he bore.
The Simorgh still above his head remained,And guided him until his house was gained.
She said, “When prince Esfandiyar seeks fight,Plead kindly, speak the truth, do what is right.
Sweet words may turn him back, and call to mindThe days of old that he has left behind:
How long, in service to the great, you boreHard toil and pain throughout the years before.
If he rejects your pleas with scornful face,And counts you with the low-born and the base,
Then string your bow, and nock that arrow rare,The tamarisk that wine has helped prepare.
Aim both your hands, as men do,Straight at his eye, and keep that eye in view.
Then Destiny will guide the shaft in flightStraight to his eye, and there its point will bite.”
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In briefRostam rides out with the arrow and calls the prince to battle. Esfandiyar, alarmed that he is on his feet, blames Zal’s sorcery. Rostam pleads once more, offering his treasure, his men and his own submission at court; the prince answers that only bonds or battle remain.
The bade farewell to , alliedAs weft to warp, bound closely side by side.
She rose with happy heart, her pinions spread;And watched her soaring overhead.
He kindled fire, the arrow to prepare,And steeped the wood in wine with patient care.
One sharpened arrowhead he fitted tight,Then feathered the straight shaft and set it right.
When dawn broke from the heights and night withdrew,Across the dark its early brightness grew.
He donned the arms of battle he would bear;He called upon the Maker in his prayer,
Then rode toward ’s camp to fight,And cried for vengeance with a warrior’s might:
“O battle-seeker, why still sleep so sound?For Rostam’s stands saddled on this ground.
Awake, and close with Rostam, spear to spear;Rise from sweet sleep; revenge has brought him near.”
When prince Esfandiyar had heard the cry,His heavy arms seemed worthless in his eye.
He said to , “No lion’s mightCan stand against a sorcerer in fight.
I thought that Rostam could reach home no moreWith , helm, he wore.
His Rakhsh bore shafts so thick across his chestThat none could see the charger’s wounded breast.
Now I have heard that Zal can reach the sunThrough magic, when some work has to be done.
In wrath he leaves all sorcerers behind;I failed to weigh this with a prudent mind.”
Bishutan answered, weeping in his woe:“May grief and anger fall upon your foe.
What has come over you, so pale today?You must have watched until sleep fled away.
What ails these two great heroes? Why should griefIncrease, with so much toil and no relief?
I know not whose good fortune falters so,To bring fresh vengeance and renew our woe.”
Esfandiyar put on his battle gear,And donned his jowshan, combat drawing near.
He saw him, roared, and called a curse of shame:“May all the world forget your very name!
Have you forgotten, , how I wageMy wars, my bow, a hero’s warlike rage?
Zal’s sorcery has made your body sound;Else you would lie already underground.
You turned again to sorcery’s old lore,And hastened back to fight me as before.
Today I crush your neck, and you shall beNo living son for Zal to ever see.”
When Rostam saw him thus, he breathed a sigh,Cold from his liver, then made this reply:
“O prince Esfandiyar,” he said, “you stillSeek war, and yet have never had your fill.
Fear God, the pure; do not consign your witAnd heart to lie together in the pit.
I did not come for battle; here I frameMy plea, concerned for honor, name, and shame.
Your fight with me flouts what is just and wise;You draw a veil across both reason’s eyes.
By ’s Maker and the noble creed,By and , give earnest heed;
By sun and moon, by ’s light,Turn from this evil and embrace the right.
Forget the bitter words exchanged before,Though they could split the skin and leave it sore.
Come then and see the dwelling where I stay;Your will shall rule my life, and I obey.
I shall unlock my ancient hoards for you,The wealth I gathered as the long years flew.
I shall load beasts; your treasurer shall goAhead with all the wealth that I bestow.
I also shall ride onward at your side,And do before the Shah as you decide.
If there he slays me, I shall be content;If he commands my bonds, I will consent.
Recall the ancient sage and comprehend:‘May no ill star become your lifelong friend.’
I shall try every means, still trusting fateMay make you weary of this war and hate.”
Esfandiyar replied, “I am not oneTo be deceived when battle has begun.
Why speak of house and hall? You do not ceaseTo wash anew the very face of peace.
If you still seek to live, then first be chained;By bonds alone may further life be gained.”
Then Rostam answered him again and said,“O prince, renounce the wrongful path you tread.
Do not disgrace my name or bring me low;From such a war, no good can ever grow.
You shall have royal gems in thousands, rare,With armlets, necklaces, and earrings fair.
Thousands of honey-lipped young pages, bright,Shall serve your throne and never leave your sight.
A thousand maidens I shall bring,Fit for the crown and fortune of a king.
O peerless prince, I shall lay bare beforeYour eyes Sahm-e ’s and Zal’s store.
I shall set all before you and shall leadMen from Zabulistan to serve your need.
They all shall follow every word you say,And break your enemies in open fray.
As your attendant, I shall take the wayBefore the vengeful Shah, and there obey.
But, prince, put vengeance from your heart away;Do not let the beside your reason stay.
You worship God; you rule and can commandMore than these bonds; my fate is in your hand.
These bonds would leave me lasting shame to bear;The evil of the act would be your share.”
Esfandiyar replied, “How long will allThese worthless words upon my hearing fall?
You bid me turn from God’s appointed way,And from the Shah whose orders I obey.
Whoever leaves the Shah’s commands behindHas worked deceit upon his master’s mind.
Choose bonds or battle; nothing else will do.Let no more idle words be heard from you.”
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In briefRostam prays, then shoots the tamarisk shaft into Esfandiyar’s eyes. The prince falls, draws the arrow out, and tells the grieving Bishutan and Bahman that the wood, the Simorgh and Zal’s craft, not Rostam’s strength, have killed him. Rostam weeps over him.
When knew his pleas could not prevail,And all entreaties to the prince would fail,
He strung his bow and set the shaft in line;Its head had been made ready with the wine.
He set the tamarisk upon the string,And prayed in secret to creation’s King:
“O pure Creator of the shining sun,Through you are wisdom, strength, and glory won.
You see my life, my soul, and all my might;You see my spirit, pure before your sight.
I strove to turn away,To make him turn his head from this affray.
You know his quarrel with me is unjust;He boasts of war, and in his strength puts trust.
Creator of the moon and Tir, I pray:Do not make me for this transgression pay.”
Esfandiyar perceived his long delay,And saw that Rostam kept the fight at bay.
He said, “Ill-thinking , has your fightNot sated you with shaft and bowstring’s might?
Now ’s arrow you shall come to know,And ’s point; a lion’s heart I show.”
Then Rostam quickly fitted to his bowThe shaft, as taught, to strike his foe.
The arrow struck his eye and quenched the light;Before the prince, the whole world turned to night.
His cypress stature bent; his wisdom fled,And all his glory vanished as he bled.
The pious prince’s head bowed toward the land;His bow of fell slackly from his hand.
He clutched the black steed’s forelock and its mane;His blood turned ruby-red the dusty plain.
Said Rostam, “You have brought this evil seedTo fruit through stubborn pride in word and deed.
You said, ‘My form is brass; my might and worthCan dash the vault of heaven to the earth.’
One shaft has turned you from the battle’s course;You lie asleep upon your noble horse.
Your head will soon be leveled with the ground,Your mother’s heart will burn with grief profound.”
The famous prince fell headlong from his steed,And lay awhile in blood and bitter need.
Then consciousness returned; he sat upright,And listened, though his eyes were robbed of sight.
He seized the arrow’s end and drew it out,While blood from point to feather flowed about.
Then heard the news of that dismay:The royal had darkened in the fray.
It was to that Bahman sped:“Our battle now to bitter pain is wed.
The mighty elephant is on the ground;Dark night has closed on all the world around.”
On foot they hurried from the troops in grief,And ran together to the wounded chief.
They saw the warrior’s chest all stained with gore;His hand the bloodied shaft that struck him bore.
Then Bishutan cast dust upon his head,And tore his robe, with cries for one near dead.
Bahman rolled in the dust; his face he laidIn warm blood, weeping as the farr would fade.
Then Bishutan said, “What great man can findThe world’s deep secret, what religious mind?
For Faith he drew the scimitar of wrath,With valor as he trod the vengeful path.
He swept idolatry from every land,And never raised a tyrant’s heavy hand.
Yet in his youth destruction struck him down;Dust took the head that used to wear the crown.
The wicked man who makes the whole world ache,And causes noble souls to grieve and break,
Lives long, while year on year he passes through,And never knows the harm that battles do.”
The two youths cradled him with grieving care,And wiped the blood that stained his face and hair.
His face was stained with blood, his heart was torn,As Bishutan lamented, left to mourn:
“Alas, O warrior Esfandiyar,Great prince, from kings descended like a star!
Who tore this mountain-warrior from his place?Who overthrew this lion in disgrace?
Who tore the noble elephant’s tusks free?Who filled with waves the Nile’s wide-spreading sea?
What evil eye has struck our royal line?Yet evil falls on those of ill design.
Where are your heart, your wisdom, faith, and star,Your strength, your ways, your fame that spread so far?
Where is your gracious voice in festive hall,Your battle arms that answered every call?
You purged the world of foes; no dread was near,No lion, nor an elephant, brought fear.
And now the profit of your toil is found:Time sees you lying here upon the ground.”
Esfandiyar, in wisdom, made reply:“O man well versed in all that passes by,
Do not destroy yourself before me so;The moon and heavens dealt this share of woe.
The living body has the dust for bed;Do not lament because my blood is shed.
Where now are , , ?They came as wind, a breath gone all too soon.
Our pure, exalted fathers left their placeTo us; none stays within this passing space.
My labors in this world were manifold,Both those made plain and those no eyes behold,
To carry out the will of God on high,With reason as the guide I journeyed by.
Through me this word shone bright across the land;From evil deeds was bound ’s hand.
Then Time stretched out its sharp claws; I could seeNo way to flee the fate that fell on me.
I hope my heart and soul may reap the grainThey sowed, in Paradise, beyond this pain.
The son of has slain me not by might;See in my fist the wood that quenched my light.
This wood has brought my days to their last hour,Through Simorgh’s aid and Rostam’s cunning power.
Zal made the spells and bonds that served this plot;He knew the world’s deceits, each binding knot.”
When Rostam heard, he writhed and wept in pain,And grief shook him; his tears fell on the plain.
He said, “Through that discordant , my shareFrom Time has come as suffering to bear.
All that he said is true; his valor’s rootWas never crooked, nor was false its fruit.
Since first I bound my belt to face the fight,I sought proud warriors, testing all their might.
No rider like Esfandiyar I found,In , armor, all the world around.
In helplessness I turned to seek redress,And gave myself up wholly in distress.
I turned away, no strength to match his own,His bow, his chest, his thumb to me made known.
I fitted fate itself upon my bow,And loosed the shaft that laid the warrior low.
Had further days remained for him to see,How could the tamarisk have worked for me?
We all must leave this dark earth; none can stay,Nor caution gain one breath against decay.
The wood was but the pretext; mine the nameWithin this darkened tale of death and shame.”
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In briefDying, Esfandiyar names Goshtasb as his true killer, gives his son Bahman into Rostam’s keeping to be reared as a prince, and sends bitter messages to his father, mother, sisters and wife. Zavareh warns that the boy will destroy them.
Then spoke to so:“My time has ended; now my life must go.
Hold back no longer; rise and come this way,For now my counsel changes with the day.
Hear now the counsel that I have to give,And know my worth while I have breath to live.
Strive to fulfill the charge I now confide,And let your greatness serve you as a guide.”
Then matchless Rostam heard the prince’s word,On foot drew near; his cries of grief were heard.
His eyes poured blood, his heart was filled with shame;He mourned in gentle tones the prince’s name.
When received the tidings of the fight,He left his palace with the wind’s own flight.
, , and chiefs rode hard,Like men gone mad, by grief and sorrow marred.
A wail rose upward from the battle’s ground,And sun and moon seemed darkened by the sound.
Then Zal said, “Son, for you I grieve the more;My aching heart is wounded to its core.
I heard a sage of Chin proclaim this fate,And Iran’s star-readers the same relate:
‘Whoever sheds the blood of that great chiefWill find his days cut short in bitter grief.
In this world, pain and hardship he shall know;Beyond it, ill fortune shall be his woe.’”
Esfandiyar then said, “O Rostam, hear:Your hand has brought no evil to me here.
Such was the time; what happened now is past.Hear all my words and hold their meaning fast.
You were the pretext; father was my fate,Not Rostam, , shaft, or bow of hate.
He told me, ‘Go, burn to the ground;Let nevermore on earth be found.’
He strove to keep the troops and crown and store,While I was left to suffer more and more.
Now , this renowned young son of mine,My watchful counselor of wise design,
Receive from me as though you were his sire;Remember all the things that I require.
Keep him in , glad in heart and mind;Recall the deeds of men of evil kind.
Teach him the ordering of war’s array,The feast’s due seating, and the hunter’s way.
Teach wine and music, polo, work, and mirth,And greatness, and enjoyment of this earth.
—may all his name be lost to view,And may his wishes never once come true;
Foretold that Bahman would preserve my name,A king more high and glorious in his fame.”
When matchless Rostam heard, he stood upright,His right hand on his breast, his pledge forthright.
He said, “Though you depart, my word shall stand;I shall fulfill each part of your command.
Upon the ivory throne he shall be crowned,A lovely circlet on his forehead bound.”
The prince then heard the pledge that Rostam told,And said, “Take up the new; this has grown old.
God is my witness; let His witness stand,My guide within the Faith, by His command:
For all your kindness and your deeds of worth,The kings you nurtured here upon the earth,
Your noble name has turned to ill repute;Because of me, the world will not be mute.
My soul has grief allotted as its share;Such was the Maker’s will that I must bear.”
Then to spoke the dying chief:“A shroud is all I seek beyond this grief.
When I depart this world and life is done,Arrange the troops; return with every one.
When you have reached Iran, say to my sire:‘Seek no excuse; you have your heart’s desire.
The age has turned to serve your will and fame;Now every seal is subject to your name.
I hoped for better things from you, but seeWhat your dark soul deemed fitting now for me.
I set the world right with the sword of law;None dared speak ill of you but stood in awe.
When Iran’s Faith was firmly set in place,Then kingship was my claim, with royal grace.
Before the chiefs your counsel sounded fair,Then secretly dispatched me to death’s snare.
Now you have gained the longing of your heart;Sit at your ease and play the monarch’s part.
Since you are safe, go drive death from your halls,And feast in peace within your palace walls.
The throne and crown are yours to keep and wear;The toil, the coffin, and the shroud, my share.
The old , who knew the world, spoke true:“Even the arrow’s point must perish too.”
Trust not your wealth, your crown, your armed array;My soul awaits your coming on the way.
When you arrive, we both shall have our sayBefore the Judge and hear His words that day.’
Then leave him; tell my mother, ‘Death drew near,And came this time to seek a battle here.
Jowshan is wind before death’s arrow-flight;Its shafts would pierce a mount of steel outright.
You soon will follow when my days are done;Do not torment your soul or blame your son.
Do not unveil your face before the crowd,Nor look upon my face within the shroud.
That sight will only make your sorrow grow,And wise men will not praise such public woe.’
Go to my sisters and my wife, and tellThose noble women where my secrets dwell:
To those wise women bear the words I say:‘Farewell forever, now I pass away.
My father’s crown has brought this ill to me;My life unlocked his wealth; it was the key.
I send it now to him, that he may knowThe shame his darkened soul deserves to show.’”
He spoke, then drew a sharp and sudden breath:“From came this wrong that brings my death.”
His pure soul left the wounded body bare,Cast on the darkened dust, beyond all care.
Then Rostam tore his breast and robe apart,With dust upon his head and pain at heart.
He cried, “Alas, O warrior, royal son,Whose father ruled, whose grandfather fought and won!
I had a noble name through all the earth;Goshtasb has stained my ending and my worth.”
Long time he wept, then spoke above the slain:“O monarch peerless on the mortal plain,
May Paradise receive your soul in light;May your foe reap the harvest of his spite.”
Zavareh said, “You should not undertakeThe charge he gave, nor take it for his sake.
Have you not heard the old dehqan relateThe ancient tale that warns us of this fate?
‘If you should raise a lion’s cub, behold:Its teeth grow sharp; its heart grows fierce and bold.
It grows, then seeks its prey; its first attackFalls on the one who raised it, turning back.’
Both sides are stirred to anger; grief is drawnFirst to the realm and people of Iran.
Since such a prince as Esfandiyar is dead,You too will see ill days around your head.
From Bahman, harm to Zabul shall arise;The elders of shall writhe with cries.
When he is crowned, he will recall the fight,And seek revenge for Esfandiyar’s plight.”
Then Rostam said, “Against the turning sky,Both good and evil thinkers vainly try.
I chose what reason’s eye would look uponWith praise, that my good name might still live on.
If he does ill, Time’s pain shall be his share;Do not stir trouble’s eye to wrath; beware.”
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In briefRostam seals the prince in an iron coffin and sends him home with his shorn horse. Goshtasb mourns, but his nobles, his sisters and his mother turn on him, and Bishutan reproaches both the Shah and Jamasp. Iran mourns for a year.
An iron coffin made; he laidA cloth of silk from Chin, a rich brocade.
He coated one iron face with pitch, then spreadMusk and upon that pitchy bed.
They spread a shroud of silk and woven gold,And nobles wailed above the prince grown cold.
In satin silk they swathed his body bare;They crowned his head with turquoise bright and rare.
They sealed the iron coffin; never moreThat royal tree would yield the fruit it bore.
Then Rostam chose out forty camels tall,In Chinese brocade housings, one and all.
Two camels bore the coffin of the slain;Troops flanked it, led, and followed in the train.
With faces torn and hair plucked out, they criedHis name; their souls still sought him at their side.
Tabiras overturned, the banners torn;In blue and purple, all were dressed to mourn.
Before the troops, led the steed,Its forelock, tail both shorn; a mournful deed.
The saddle on its back was turned around;The hung from the saddle, firmly bound.
His famous helm and battle-coat he wore,His robes and warrior’s coif, the saddle bore.
The troops moved on; young stayed to weepIn , shedding heart’s blood, anguish deep.
The matchless Rostam took him to his hall,And cherished him as life through sorrow’s pall.
When news reached of that bitter blow,The famous monarch bowed his head in woe.
He tore the robes that covered breast and frame;His head and crown into the dust both came.
A wail rose from the palace, heard afar;The world cried out the name .
Throughout the realm, wherever tidings spread,Each noble took the crown from off his head.
Goshtasb cried, “O champion pure and true,No age shall see another chief like you.
Not since ’s old and royal dayHad such a prince appeared in war’s array.
You stained your blade; you kept the Faith unstained,And each great lord’s appointed place maintained.”
The nobles of Iran, inflamed with ire,Cast off respect for him, the prince’s sire.
They cried, “Unlucky king, you prize your throneAbove a prince whose peer was never known.
You sent great Esfandiyar to be slain,That you might keep the crown and royal reign.
Shame on your head beneath the crown you wear;May fortune hasten off and leave you bare.”
The nobles left the palace, all the crowd;Dust filled his court and halls as with a shroud.
His mother, sisters, heard the news and cameWith daughters from the palace, grief aflame.
Bareheaded, barefoot, all their robes were torn;Their feet were thick with dust as they would mourn.
When Bishutan came weeping on his way,The black steed followed with the bier’s array.
The women clung to him with tears of blood,And cried as grief rose round them like a flood:
“Unfasten now this iron coffin’s lid,And show the wounded prince the coffin hid.”
He stood among the women, crying loud,And tore flesh from both arms before the crowd.
He asked the smiths for sharp files straightaway:“For me this is the Resurrection Day.”
He opened up the covering of the chest;Then started fresh to mourn, with grief oppressed.
His mother and his sisters saw his face,His black beard filled with musk in death’s embrace.
The golden-haired ones swooned beneath their grief;Their darkened souls could find no more relief.
When sense returned within each stricken breast,They came to , fortunate and blessed.
They left the prince’s bier and went to standBeside the black steed, wailing in a band.
They stroked its mane and breast with loving care;And wept blood upon its hair.
That charger bore the prince when fortune fled;Upon its back in battle he lay dead.
“O shameless steed!” the mother cried in pain,“On you the king was slain.
Whom will you bear to battle from this hour,To ’s claws, beneath that creature’s power?”
They clasped its mane and clung in their despair,And cast the dust upon its head and hair.
The army’s outcry reached the clouds on high;Then Bishutan approached the Shah nearby.
He gave no homage, would not bow his head,But came up to the royal throne instead.
“O chief of chiefs, your fortune turns away;The sign of its reversal comes today.
You have done evil to yourself this day,And made Iran cry out in deep dismay.
Your and wisdom both have left your side;God’s punishment shall humble all your pride.
Your famed support is broken; from this hourYour fist holds only wind, bereft of power.
To save your throne, you sent your son to die;May crown and fortune both your cause deny.
The world is full of foes and evil men;Your crown will not endure the ages then.
Reproach will be your portion in this sphere,And Judgment Day will bring your reckoning near.”
He turned to , crying in disdain:“Ill-born, ill-starred, your deeds are foul with stain.
You speak no word except deceit and lies;By knavery you rose before men’s eyes.
You sow discord among the Kayanian line,And set them on each other by design.
You teach them nothing but the road to ill,To leave the good and follow evil will.
You sowed one seed; in secret and in sight,And you shall reap its fruit and feel its bite.
A noble prince through your advice was slain;The days of all the great have turned to pain.
You taught the Shah the evil path to choose,Old fool, whose mind has no more sense to lose.
You said, ‘The hero-prince’s life is crossed,And in famed Rostam’s grasp his days are lost.’”
Then Bishutan resumed; he now conveyedThe counsels, every one, the prince had made.
He told of Bahman’s charge to Rostam’s care,And made the hidden matter plain and bare.
When Shah Goshtasb had heard the final word,Remorse within his guilty heart was stirred.
When all the nobles left, the sisters came, and , grief aflame.
Before their father, they tore cheek and hair,In anguish for their brother, deep despair.
They cried, “O famous monarch, is it rightThat Esfandiyar’s ruin seems so slight?
He first avenged and broke the foe,And saved the from lion’s blow.
He took revenge upon the Turkish band,And made your kingship firm throughout the land.
At slander’s word you bound him, fettered fast,With heavy bars and round him cast.
While he lay bound, was slain that day,The army’s fortune turned and fell away.
When from came to ’s gate,Our lives were crushed beneath distress and fate.
We, who had kept our faces veiled before,Were dragged into the street from the palace door.
When Zardoshti was struck down,Arjasp then seized the kingdom and its crown.
You saw your son raise smoke and dust that day,And drive the breath of all your foes away.
He brought us from the to you,And guarded realm and crown, both firm and true.
You sent him from this place to Zabul’s land,With many counsels given as command,
So that for crown and throne he might be slain,And all the world might writhe and weep in pain.
Not , , or Rostam struck him dead;You killed him; cease these tears of grief you shed.
Shame on your old white beard, and on your crown!For love of rule you brought your own son down.
Before you, worthy kings had ruled the land;None gave their sons or kin to death’s dark hand.”
The Shah told Bishutan, “Arise and go;Pour water on the children’s fiery woe.”
Then Bishutan came forth and led the trainOf women from the royal court in pain.
He told his mother, “Why, so stricken, pourYour grief out, beating fiercely at the door?
He sleeps in joy, his soul serene and bright,Weary of realm and ruler, freed from night.
Why keep your heart in anguish, so distressed?In Paradise he dwells, at peace and blessed.”
His mother took the pious words as guide,And with God’s justice rested satisfied.
For one full year, through Iran’s streets, the cryOf mourning rose, a wail that would not die.
For many years they mourned the tamarisk shaft,And all the bonds of Zal’s enchanted craft.
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In briefBahman grows up in Zabul under Rostam’s teaching. Rostam writes to Goshtasb and is pardoned. Years later Jamasp urges the Shah to send for his grandson; Rostam loads him with treasure and escorts him on his way, and Goshtasb names him Ardeshir.
remained where ’s gardens grew,With wine and hunting to delight him too.
taught riding, wine, and courtly graceTo that young prince within his dwelling-place.
More than his own son, Rostam prized the boy;He kept him always near, his constant joy.
When word and deed were joined, the door was closedOn wrath toward , and that feud reposed.
Then Rostam wrote a letter filled with grief,Recounting all the deeds of that lost chief.
He opened with a blessing, wishing peaceTo one whose heart would let old hatred cease.
“God is my witness; can showHow much I pleaded that he should forgo
His bitter feud; I pressedTo turn from hate and lay the war to rest.
I offered him my country and my store,And chose to bear the hardships all the more.
His fate was such; it would not show its face;My heart held pain, my thoughts held love in place.
The heavens turned above us to the end;No hand could force harsh Destiny to bend.
Bahman, the prince, is here beneath my care,And Jupiter itself cannot compare.
I taught him royal arts, as wisdom bade;Through counsel, wisdom’s debt I have repaid.
If now the Shah will pledge to pardon me,And let the arrow’s deed forgotten be,
My body and my soul, my crown and gold,My flesh and marrow; all are his to hold.”
When this had reached the monarch of the land,Its words were spread among the noble band.
Then Bishutan came forward to attest,And told the truth that burdened Rostam’s breast.
He told of Rostam’s pleading, how he framedHis counsel, and the land and kin he named.
The famous Shah was reconciled in heart,And let his wrath against great Rostam part.
He wrote at once and planted with that wordA tree where greatness bloomed and honor stirred.
He said, “When grief descends from heaven’s sphere,What wisdom can avert the danger near?
Though men take counsel, who can bar the wayWhen turning heaven brings the evil day?
Brave Bishutan has told me your intent,And by your goodness all my heart is bent.
Who can escape the heavens as they turn?The wise do not for days now vanished yearn.
You are as once you were, and better still;In and , yours the ruler’s will.
Ask what you need to raise your royal state:Throne, seal, and sword, and crown to make you great.”
The messenger returned without delay,As Rostam had commanded him that day.
It cheered the famous ; his breastWas freed from care and set once more at rest.
Thus, several years passed by; the prince grew tall,His stature rising, noble before all.
With wisdom, learning, means to rule the land,He raised his crown above the royal band.
, well versed in good and ill, had knownThat Bahman would inherit crown and throne.
He said to Goshtasb, “O king, turn your gazeTo Bahman, worthy now of royal praise.
He has the learning that his father sought,And honor crowns the knowledge he was taught.
He long has lived abroad; no letter’s wordHas there been read to him, no message heard.
Write now to Bahman; let that letter bearThe likeness of a tree in Eden fair.
What other living memory can allayYour grief for Esfandiyar, passed away?”
The counsel pleased the Shah; he gave commandTo wise Jamasp to write with his own hand:
“Write to Bahman, and ask him to draw near,And write to Rostam, warrior without peer.
Say, ‘Thanks to God, O Pahlevan of might,You made us glad and cleared our grieving sight.
Our grandson, dearer than our life, has grownMore famed than wise Jamasp for knowledge shown.
Through you he learned good judgment, culture, lore;It is but right you send him to our door.’
To Bahman write, ‘When you have read our word,Leave Zabul, for our wish must now be heard.
We long to see you; make yourself prepared,And do not linger once our wish is shared.’”
When Rostam heard the scribe recite the scroll,Its message brought rejoicing to his soul.
From all his treasures, battle-coats he drew,And s gleaming with a watery hue;
Horse armor, arrows, bows, and gorzes bright,And Indian khanjars, fitted for the fight;
Fresh aloes, camphor, ambergris, and gold,With musk and gems and silver from his hold;
Fine mounts and servants, cloth not cut or sewn,And children who as yet were not full-grown;
Gold belts and golden horse gear, richly made,Two ruby cups with gold upon them laid.
All these to Bahman Rostam gave; the shareWas counted out, his treasurer’s to bear.
Two stages Rostam rode along the way,Then sent him to the Shah without delay.
When Goshtasb saw his grandson standing near,His face was veiled in blood and tear on tear.
“You are Esfandiyar,” the monarch cried;“You seem like no one in the world beside.”
He found him bright of heart and quick to learn;He called him from that day’s turn.
He was a warrior, stalwart, strong of hand,Devout and wise, a lord fit to command.
His arms hung long; when standing straight and tall,His hands reached past his knees before them all.
The Shah kept testing him as days went by,And watched his growing stature with his eye.
At feast and hunt and on the open field,He showed the strength his father used to wield.
Goshtasb could hardly bear him out of sight,And over wine would coax him to delight.
He said, “ has given me this son,To soothe my grief for all that death has done.
May Bahman live forever at my side,Since my proud, brazen-bodied son has died.”
May joy be his, his crown rise high and sure,His body and his soul from harm secure.
May every pain depart and leave him free,And Time obey whatever his decree.
Next in the poemC9 · Rostam and ShaghadOr read the notes on C7 and C8, or see Esfandiyar, Rostam and Goshtasb.