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In briefAn autumn prologue on the ripe apple and the vanished spring. Ferdowsi names his informant, Makh of Herat. Hormizd takes the throne and promises justice, bounty and protection for the poor; the rich hear him with dread, the sages and the poor with gladness.
Summer laughed to see the apple red,And mocked its fruit and foliage as it said:
“Those springtime blossoms on your breast once lay;Their scent could steal a sober mind away.
To whom did you your fragrant blossoms trade,And what exchange for springtime bloom was made?
Who gave you emerald leaves and rubies great,That bend your branches with their jeweled weight?
Did Jupiter give you that robe so fine,Its crystal stained with blood-red drops of wine?
Yet I despair; your blossoms, once so bright,Are hidden by this splendor from my sight.”
Sweet Spring, my charmer, where have you withdrawn,And left the garden stripped of all its dawn?
Yet Autumn keeps some fragrance that was yours;I will drink wine while memory endures.
Though Autumn pales, I still will praise its hue,And crown it like with splendor new.
Though now my work finds little favor here,When I am dead, its traces will appear.
An aged lord held ’s borderland,Much tried in life, with wisdom at command.
His name was , experienced and wise,Whose cheerful face shone bright before men’s eyes.
I asked what record he had kept in thoughtOf Hormizd’s reign and what remembrance brought.
That elder then of replied,And opened what the ancient years supplied.
When Hormizd sat upon the royal throne,He praised the God whose power no peer has known.
The Arbiter of Fortune first he named,Then to the silent chiefs his will proclaimed:
“We will make bright the throne and honor stillAll worthy men through deeds of our goodwill.
We will enfold the world beneath our wing,As did our sire, and peace to all will bring.
We will make evildoers fear our might,And ease the oppressed by justice and by right.
If one does ill, we bear it, and forbear,And aid him when he falls in toil and care.
The throne of majesty rests firm and sureOn mercy, justice, bounty, counsel pure.
Know good and evil cannot hide from HimWho made the world; His sight will never dim.
Our crowned forefathers in their passing daysWon through their justice their appointed praise.
They sought mildness, equity, and worth,With valor fit to govern all the earth.
They served the lowly, cherished those of might,And kept ill-wishers trembling in their sight.
In every clime, to act and to command,Power, counsel, rule, and judgment fill our hand.
The pious love the king whom God has crowned;Through royal bounty, joy and wealth abound.
The needy we shall shelter from distress,And with imperial care their sorrows bless;
The rich we also watch with careful eye,Though men who earn their wealth may still rise high.
Conceal no wish from our devoted heart;We will remove the fears that make you start.
You prosperous men, rejoice in crown and throne;Among the great, our luster is our own.
For mercy, justice, bounty dwell in me;Grow kind, and set your hearts from vengeance free.
Those who fear God will meet no evil fate;So seek Him, all, whatever your estate.
Let no wise heart be thankless in its thought;Nor weigh good deeds by recompense they brought.
When you bestow your benefit on men,Do not demand reward from them again.
Keep clear of those whose speech is built on lies;Their pleasing words are only a disguise.
If he is just, think not your king a fool,Nor doubt his understanding of his rule.
A king some call unwise may yet have readThe former Shahs and learned from what they said.
When royal mercy brings your heart relief,Sow no deceit to yield a crop of grief.
Who spurns our counsel throws away the storeOf Fortune’s gifts and opens ruin’s door.
Your Shah’s approval should suffice your need;Resistance is the road where losses breed.
His harsh rebuke is still in kindness meant;Were he your foe, he would not once relent.
Grudge no exertion in the cause of right,Nor take in wrongful wealth a false delight.
When in the world your heart’s desire is won,And all you sought lies gathered in the sun,
Still, when the crown of seventy years is worn,You yield your winnings up and stand forlorn.
Our heart is greatly troubled for the poor;Their hardship is a grief we must endure.
We ask the holy Maker for the timeTo make the poor rejoice in Fortune’s prime.
We will not bring the saintly heart to pain,Nor let the righteous suffer from our reign.
If any man through wealth should seek a throne,And claim a kingly greatness of his own,
We will strike off his head for such a claim;No rival shall dispute our royal name.
In speech and secret thought, in all we do,From first to last, our purpose shall hold true.
May God bestow His blessing on each soul;May heaven’s turning vault fulfill each goal.”
When all the great assembly heard his word,Each man grew thoughtful at the speech he heard.
The wealthy men were filled with inward dread,And tyrants felt their hearts grow scorched and dead.
But sages and the poor grew glad of heart,For justice seemed to take the needy’s part.
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In briefHormizd turns on his father’s men. He starves and kills Izad Gashasp, poisons the High Mobad Zardosht for visiting him, traps Simah Barzin through Bahram Azarmihan and kills both. A sealed scroll of his father’s foretells his own blinding and death.
ruled well until his throne felt sure,And every aim he cherished seemed secure.
Then rage arose; his evil nature woke,And from the path of justice sharply broke.
As he had planned, he turned his hand to slayThe men who served his father in their day.
They had been innocent and glad of heart,And feared no wound from royal fraud or art.
Three scribes of held high place,Renowned for wisdom, office, rank, and grace.
One old and two still young in strength and years: was first among his peers.
Wise Borz-Mehr was learned, prudent, and serene,A scribe of noble bearing, form, and mien.
Azar too was prosperous and wise,A counselor esteemed in royal eyes.
These three as vizirs served, in honor grown,And Anooshirvan had kept them as his own.
Hormizd desired to cast the three aside,For fear that they might rise against his pride.
Without just cause he lifted up his hand,And bound Izad Gashasp by harsh command.
The scribe was cast into the prison’s night,And royal favor vanished from his sight.
The High Mobad grew troubled at the news;His face grew pale, as fear drained all its hues.
The priest was named , both good and wise,A just and quiet man in all men’s eyes.
When he heard that Izad Gashasp lay bound,His own heart seemed by piercing arrows found.
A day went by; the captive sat forlorn,Neglected, starved, of every kindness shorn.
No food, no clothing, and no comfort came;His suffering fed the prison’s inward flame.
A friend conveyed his message from that place,And told the troubled priest his wretched case:
“O you who serve as refuge to the lone,Behold me in the Shah’s dark prison thrown.
No servant comes or ventures to my side;My starving body wastes away inside.
Send what is fitting for my present need,And when I die, send linen with all speed.
Send one to stitch the shroud that I shall wear,For death’s cold hand is closing everywhere.”
The High Mobad’s heart was wounded by that word,And grieved at all the suffering he heard.
He answered, “Do not grieve at prison’s chain,While life remains, take heart against your pain.”
Yet when the message left, his heart was torn,And for himself he felt dread newly born.
He thought, “If this hard-hearted Shah should learnI sent relief where prison torches burn,
My life will count for nothing in his sight;The king will turn on me his livid spite.
This wrathful Shah will sentence me to death,And sweep my name from court with one fierce breath.”
His love for that imprisoned scribe was strong;He could not leave his friend to suffer long.
He bade his careful cook with food to go,And carry comfort to the man brought low.
Then on an Arab steed the priest arose,And rode himself toward prison and its woes.
The jailer paled with terror when he sawThe priest approach, and stood in silent awe.
Yet none dared say, “Do not now come inside;The king is young, self-willed, and drunk with pride.”
The aged man, with tears upon his face,Dismounted there and entered that dark place.
He found Izad Gashasp in prison’s gloom;They clasped and wept within that narrow room.
Their lashes seemed like clouds of springtime rain,As each embraced the other in his pain.
They spoke about the evil Shah at length,Until their bitter words had spent their strength.
Then food was spread before those holy men;They said the , as was their custom then.
With twigs in hand, they prayed to God,The righteous Judge beyond the tyrant’s rod.
Izad Gashasp spoke softly to his friend,Entrusting him with wishes for his end.
He spoke of hoarded treasure, house, and land,Of mansions, palaces, and wealth in hand.
He said, “O noble man, when you depart,Carry this word from my afflicted heart:
Say to Hormizd, ‘Though you may spurn my claim,Remember Anooshirvan and all his fame.
Think how with toil I served that gracious king,And cherished you beneath my sheltering wing.
For this my recompense is chain and fear,And harsher threats that darken prison here.
On Judgment Day I shall present to GodA guiltless heart oppressed beneath your rod.’”
When Zardosht had returned from prison home,A spy went quickly where the Shah would roam.
He told Hormizd the news in every part;Dark schemes at once took root within his heart.
He showed Izad Gashasp no grace at all,But sent men in to slay him by the wall.
He heard the news about the Mobad too,Yet made no outward sign of what he knew.
He pondered how to bring about the endOf him who dared to aid his captive friend.
He ordered that the cook prepare the fare,And hide the poison in it with great care.
When audience-time had brought the priest to court,He came to render duty and report.
Hormizd said, “Stay and dine with me today;My new cook’s skill deserves a fine display.”
The priest sat down; the board was swiftly spread,His color faded, and his heart felt dread.
He feared that this would prove his final meal;The cooks brought meats arranged with royal zeal.
Hormizd would taste each dish, lest one discernWhat hidden malice in his heart would burn.
But when the poisoned course was carried near,The priest looked, then looked once again in fear.
Suspicion troubled him; he understoodThat death might lurk beneath this show of good.
Hormizd observed him, yet no word was said;He stretched his hand toward that dish of dread.
As royal custom held in former day,When kings bestowed their favor on display,
He touched the food and drew the marrow free,Then held the morsel where the priest could see.
He said, “O honest man, this dish is fine;I had it made for you, that you might dine.
Now open wide your mouth and take this part;Such nourishment should gladden soul and heart.”
The Mobad said, “By life and royal crown,May Fortune never cast your glory down.
I have no hunger now; I must decline;Press me no further; grant this plea of mine.”
Hormizd swore by the sun and moon on high,And by the monarch’s soul beyond the sky:
“You must accept this morsel from my hand,And not frustrate my wish or my command.”
The priest replied, “The king must be obeyed;I have no choice; your will cannot be swayed.”
He ate, then left the board in bitter pain,And hurried home before the poison’s reign.
He told no one about the poisoned food,But spread a robe and lay in grieving mood.
He called for nush-darus from town and store;Yet poison raged within him as before.
It all availed him nothing in his need;He cried to God against the Shah’s dark deed.
The Shah dispatched a trusted man to learnHow deeply poison made the priest’s life burn.
He wished to know if that dark scheme had failed,Or if the hidden venom had prevailed.
When Zardosht saw the envoy, tears ran downHis cheeks; he sent this message to the crown:
“Go, tell Hormizd: Fortune rejects your reign;Your wicked rule no throne will now sustain.
I take my case before the Judge on high;Before His judgment stand both you and I.
No peaceful sleep shall visit you at night;God’s punishment will answer every spite.
I take my leave of you, malignant man;Ill done will bring you ill by heaven’s plan.”
The envoy heard and went with tears away,And bore those words before the Shah that day.
Hormizd repented, writhing at their sound,But saw no cure for that deep grief profound.
Before long, the High Mobad died; all wept,And sorrow through the realm in silence crept.
The priest’s sad death sent anguish through the realm;Grief seized the court and shook the royal helm.
But blood-stained Hormizd felt no fear or dread,Nor feared ill Fortune for the newly dead.
He steeled himself for bloodshed more and more,And opened yet another murderous door.
He made his tool,And called him in by night through terror’s rule.
Beside the throne he made kneel low,Then said, “Would you be safe from royal woe?
When sunlight makes the mountain summits gleamLike shining plates of armor in its beam,
Come with the nobles of Iran to standBefore my throne to hear what I command.
I shall inquire what dwells in ’s mind,And ask what kind of friend you there can find.
I ask, ‘Is he God’s servant, pure and true?’Then give the answer I expect of you.
Say, ‘He is evil, both in thought and deed.’Then ask of me whatever you may need.
A handmaid, signet, throne, or crown request;Ask what you will, and I shall grant the best.”
Bahram replied, “I will, and multiplyThis evil hundredfold beneath the sky.”
Thus Hormizd used deceit to weave a snare,And draw to foul despair.
He was a chief whom Anooshirvan knewAs wise and loyal, steadfast, brave, and true.
When morning’s ivory robe appeared in sight,And Sol in Gemini poured out his light,
King Hormizd sat upon the ivory throne;Above his head the costly crown was shown.
The chiefs of Iran gathered at the gate,And came in ordered ranks before the state.
The chamberlain withdrew the curtain fair,And all the throng approached with courtly care.
First came Bahram Azarmihan in place,With Simah Barzin and the chiefs of grace.
Each took his seat according to his right;The crowd stood waiting in the monarch’s sight.
The monarch questioned Bahram in that hall:“Does Simah Barzin merit wealth at all?
Or does he harbor evil in his heart?The ill-disposed deserve no royal part.”
Bahram discerned the purpose of the king,And knew the grief his questioning would bring.
He thought, “We all must weep for this design;At last my grave will lack both cloth and sign.”
He answered, “Shah, from Simah comes no gain;His deeds have brought this land to grief and pain.
He wrecked Iran; may flesh and skin be flayed,His senseless body in the dust be laid.
His speech is nothing else but lies and spite,And every word breeds enmity and fight.”
When Simah heard his friend attack his name,He answered him with sorrow, shock, and shame:
“My good old friend, do not defame me so,Nor join the and make your honor low.
Since you have been my friend, what have you knownOf in deeds that I have shown?”
Bahram Azarmihan replied, “The seedYou scattered through the world yields only weed.
You will be first to reap the crop you grew;Black smoke shall be the fire’s appointed hue.
For Anooshirvan summoned us to meet,And made us kneel before his royal seat.
The High Mobad and appeared,With Izad Gashasp, just and much revered.
The Shah inquired, ‘Who merits throne and crown?Which son should wear the realm’s supreme renown?
Which one has and worth to rule alone,And make the realm and royal fortune known?’
Then all of us arose and made reply:‘This Turkish line should never rule on high.
No man would trust such blood with rule and reign;His mother’s Khan-born nature shows too plain.
He bears his mother’s likeness, form, and air;Her inward nature too he well may share.’
But you declared, ‘Let Hormizd wear the crown,’Its bitter fruit now weighs your spirit down.
For this I testify before the throne,And make your fault before the monarch known.”
At those true words that fell from Bahram’s tongue,Hormizd grew pale, ashamed of what had sprung.
At night he sent them both to prison’s gloom,And gave no sign for two nights of their doom.
The third night, when the moon rose clear and brightAbove the mountains with its silver light,
He sent men to the prison, where they slewThat noble man who once had served him true.
He gained from that no profit but a curse,And grief and infamy grew ever worse.
When honest Simah died, Bahram sent wordTo Hormizd, asking that his plea be heard:
“O Shah whose crown stands over moon and sky,You know what secret burdens I keep by.
Before your father’s throne, through every test,I always sought your good and served you best.
If you will call me to your side, alone,I will reveal a matter still unknown.
Release me now from prison and its chain;Iran will gain; the wise will feel less pain.”
Hormizd received the message and chose oneTrusted to bring Bahram when day was done.
At night the monarch brought him to his seat,And spoke in gentle words, their talk discreet.
He said, “Reveal the counsel you would bring,That may secure my life and throne as king.”
Bahram replied, “A plain black chest is storedWithin your treasury, O royal lord.
Within that case a sealed casket lies;A Persian scroll lies sealed from prying eyes.
On white silk, in your father’s hand, are tracedThe fortunes of the years yet to be faced.”
Hormizd sent orders: “Search the ancient store;Bring me the black chest sealed in days before.”
He read: “For twelve full years shall Hormizd reign,A mighty king, secure from grief and pain.
Then turmoil rises, justice falls away,And tyranny and violence win the day.
From every side his enemies appear,While one like Ahriman awakens fear;
His troops disperse; his foes usurp the crown,Blind both his eyes, and strike the monarch down.”
He read his father’s words, his heart grown sore,Then called Bahram: “What brought you to my door?
What did you seek in bringing me this scroll?To save your head; is that your only goal?”
Bahram replied, “O Turk, your mother’s lineHas given you no better blood than mine.
May sorrow fall on him who made you king,And set the crown upon so base a thing!”
Hormizd now knew that one he sought to killCould never serve him with a loyal will.
He sent Bahram back to the prison’s gloom;The next night, royal orders sealed his doom.
No sage remained to guide him or advise;No Mobad stood to make his judgment wise.
From evil habits greater evils grow;Shun them, and all the grief their seeds will sow.
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In briefRemorseful, Hormizd keeps a seasonal round of Istakhr, Isfahan, Tisfoon and the Arvand plain, and proclaims harsh penalties for trespass on crops. His own son Khosrow Parviz’s horse offends; the Shah has its ears and tail docked and the damage paid from the prince’s treasure.
Remorseful then, he shaped a better life,And turned his heart from tyranny and strife.
Each year, when nights were short, he made his wayTo fair , and there would three months stay.
That city’s air was tranquil, bright, and sweet;He scarcely wished to leave that fair retreat.
Three autumn months at he spent;Its noble seat and air brought him content.
In winter, was his resting place,Among the troops and counselors of grace.
The assembled in his train;In spring he dwelt upon the plain.
Thus time went by, while terror of the scrollStill held its shadow deep within his soul.
Three watches of the night he spent in prayer,And shed no blood, nor schemed to lay a snare.
No further wrong he did; no evil willMoved in his heart or turned his thoughts to ill.
Whenever night’s blue veil was drawn from sight,And topaz dawn appeared upon the height,
A herald cried, “O men of , draw near;Attend the Shah’s command and heed it here:
If tilled land suffers and the sower grieves,Because another’s horse has crushed the sheaves,
If any beast should enter growing grain,Or trespass bring an orchard harm and pain,
Cut off that horse’s ears and tail, I say;And hang the thief who takes the fruit away.”
For three years thus he traveled through the land;The chiefs blessed justice dealt by his own hand.
The Shah had one beloved son, Parviz,Moonlike in face, his heart’s delight and ease.
He bore the name of Khosrow too, and soHis father rarely let the young prince go.
The father never bloomed without the son;Their hearts were bound as moonlight is to sun.
A horseman from Prince Khosrow’s favored trainRode roughshod through a farmer’s standing grain;
The rider laughed: “Complain to whom you will:I serve Parviz! Who cares what crops I kill?”
“Dock tail and ears,” the Shah in wrath decreed,“And give the peasant this disfigured steed!
The rider too shall serve him bound and chained,Until the value of his crop is gained;
From Khosrow’s treasury let gold be weighed,Till every stalk of damage is repaid!
Pay in the field, before the owner’s eyes;Let justice stand where royal judgment lies.”
The prince asked chiefs to plead before the throneThat ears and tail should stay the horse’s own.
But royal wrath remained in firm command;The Shah dismissed the pleas on every hand.
The groom, afraid of what the king might do,Cut ears and tail where ruined grasses grew.
Khosrow then paid the owner what was due,And thus the Shah ’s decree went through.
Soon after, Hormizd hunted with his train,And all took pleasure on the open plain.
A valiant horseman, captain’s son, drew nearA laden vine whose unripe grapes shone clear.
He bade his servant cut the clusters bare,And take them to his cook with heedless air.
The owner cried, “You did not tend this vine,Nor buy its fruit with treasure, gold, or wine.
Why spoil the fruit of work you never shared?Before the Shah your theft shall be declared.”
The horseman, fearing what the Shah would do,Unfastened then his belt of golden hue.
His gem-set belt, with links of beaten gold,He gave the man, whose wrath was then controlled.
The owner said, “This wrong I now forgive;If that just judge should hear, you would not live.”
So justice spared not even Hormizd’s own;The prince and captain’s son bowed to the throne.
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In briefIn his tenth year enemies come from every side: Saveh of the Turks from Herat with elephants, Caesar from Rum, Khazars into Armenia, Arab horsemen on the Euphrates. With his counselors dead, Hormizd buys off Rum, beats the Khazars, and is left facing Saveh.
When he had ruled ten righteous years in fame,From every realm the voice of foemen came.
King crossed to join the fray,With s, stores, elephants’ array.
Four hundred thousand soldiers filled his force;Their numbers darkened all the army’s course.
Twelve hundred warlike elephants were led;The crowded earth could scarcely bear their tread.
From to ’s borderland,His troops lay packed like warp and woof in hand;
Toward he led his soldiers on their way;Their dust concealed the earth beneath the day.
King Saveh sent a written scroll:“Call up your powers; let caution rule your soul.
Repair the roads and bridges for my train;Prepare provisions all along the plain.
Remember how my sword can strike its blow;Through hill and valley shall my soldiers go.”
When Hormizd read that letter, he turned pale,So vast the force described in threat and tale.
Then came against him from one side,His legions sweeping through the country wide.
A hundred thousand Romans formed his train,Redoubted horsemen, bold through war’s domain.
The cities seized before,Whose name still made tremble at the core,
He took again by sword and hard command;Once more they bent beneath his Roman hand.
A force came from the s’ distant side,And blackened all the land in battle-pride.
Their leader was a warrior skilled in war,With troops and treasure gathered by the score.
From to they spread;Their troops filled all the country as they sped.
Then Arab horsemen swept across the plain,A raging sea of spears behind their train.
Abbas and , two youthful horsemen bright,Led them through havoc, pillage, raid, and fight.
They ruined crops and land with ruthless hand,Because Hormizd had taxed their native land.
That army marched and came to ’s shore;No grass survived where trampling horsemen tore.
When fortune lowered, news reached Hormizd’s ear;The once-successful Shah grew numb with fear.
He then repented all the sages slain,And mourned the wise he drove from court in pain.
He saw no counselor beside him stand,Yet needed wisdom more than strength of hand.
He summoned all Iranians to his hall,A full assembly gathered at his call.
He told the nobles plainly of the case,And said, “Great peril moves against our race.
A force more vast than any can recallIs marching now on Iran’s realm and wall.”
The frontier lords came forward to advise,And weighed the rising danger with clear eyes:
“O prudent Shah, give heed to what you hear;Your servants warn of dangers drawing near.
You are our wise Shah; we obey your will;The Mobad’s office you alone now fill.
Your scribes and learned lie slain;Their deaths have left both faith and law in pain.
Now think what must be done to guard the land,And who can keep Iran beneath your hand.”
Then spoke the Mobad serving as wazir:“O knowledge-seeking Shah, incline your ear.
If Khazar troops come forth in battle might,Our warriors must not delay the fight.
Let us court Rum with overtures of peace,Then tear the Arabs root and branch, nor cease.
King Saveh presses hardest on our state;From him our prospects look more dark with fate.
Our gravest threat comes down through ;He plans to ravage wealth throughout Iran.
When Turks cross the Jihun to make their raid,Our answer must be war, no move delayed.”
Hormizd, intent on finding counsel right,Said, “How shall we withstand King Saveh’s might?”
The Mobad replied, “Now set troops in line,For armies make a monarch’s glory shine.
Summon the muster-master; let him showHow many men are fit to face the foe.”
The muster-master brought the army’s list,And stood before the Shah, no soldier missed.
The army numbered five score thousand strong,With many footmen in the mounted throng.
The chief priest said, “With these, confront the foe;Against King Saveh let your courage show.
You must act boldly, holding fast to right,And put all fraud and falsehood out of sight.
Thus you will free your subjects from their chain,As fits a king who rules without a stain.
You heard what fell on , overthrown,And too, when fortune’s light had flown.
Great , that old Wolf, with Chin’s array,Brought bitter grief to in that dark day.
Life in that land grew bitter as the grave,Until came forth to save.
Unless the Shah accepts the counsel shown,The Turks of Chin will make his troubles known.
Though I am older than the king in years,His wisdom far exceeds mine, it appears.”
The king said, “Caesar shall not take the field;The towns he claims I willingly shall yield.
The towns my father captured I restoreTo Caesar’s rule; they shall be mine no more.”
He chose a warrior-scribe, discreet and wise,Who watched the turns of war with practiced eyes.
He sent him to Caesar with this decree:“No Roman cities shall be claimed by me.
That land is yours; but set no foot on ours,If you would keep your greatness and your powers.”
The envoy came before the Roman throneAnd made King Hormizd’s message fully known.
The lord of Rum withdrew and did no harm;No Roman sword brought Iran fresh alarm.
When Caesar had withdrawn, the king preparedTo meet the Khazars, and his anger flared.
Against the Arab chiefs along Farat,He sent a troop to bar each ford and ghat;
Their desert horsemen, checked by sword and spear,Withdrew in haste, and left the borders clear.
He raised a force whose dust obscured the light,And sent it to the Khazars’ land to fight.
, a man of and just intent,Devout and noble, with the army went.
When into Armenia the soldiers passed,The Khazar troops withdrew before them fast.
They slew full many Khazars as they fled,And took great booty from the land ahead.
When Kharrad’s victory came to royal hand,King Saveh was the last foe still to stand.
So three were turned aside by sword and word;Now Saveh’s challenge waited to be heard.
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In briefNastooh brings his aged father Mehran Setad, who tells how he chose Hormizd’s Chinese mother and how a Mobad then foretold a dark, lean horseman called Chubin who would break the Turk. He dies as he finishes. Bahram, son of Goshnasp, is found at Ardabil.
A servant of the Shah, by name,Wise and observant, to his presence came.
He said, “O Shah, be glad; may every handOf ill stay far from you and from your land.
My father, wise , has stillHis ancient wit, though age has bent his will.
He sits apart with near,And seeks no worldly pleasure year by year.
Through age and weakness, worldly wants expire;Yet hidden knowledge still preserves its fire.
One day and night I sat beside the sage,And spoke of ’s troops and warlike rage.
I told of elephants and countless men;My father said, ‘As was foretold back then,
The ancient prophecy is now fulfilled.’I asked, ‘What prophecy has fate now willed?’
He answered, ‘If the Shah should call me near,I will unfold the mystery for his ear.’”
The king commanded one of noble raceTo fetch the elder swiftly from his place.
They bore him on a litter to the court,That ancient man of knowledge and report.
His mind was deep, a treasury of years;Then questioned him before his peers:
“What do you know of what the past has kept?”The elder bowed, and through his memories swept.
“O heedful Shah, when Chin’s great ruler sentYour mother here, this was the way it went.
I led eight score brave warriors in that hour,To seek her hand and join her to his power.
Your father, upright king of kings, made plain:‘Seek no slave’s daughter for the royal reign.
Require a daughter of the queen instead;No slave shall share the bed.’
I went before the Khan and bowed my head;Five lovely daughters were before me led.
All five seemed fit to grace a monarch’s throne,With gait like pheasants, springtime beauty shown.
They bloomed with color, fragrance, form, and grace;The Khan then sent me to their private place.
I entered that famed court where all were fair,Their faces decked, with roses in their hair.
All wore bright jewels; your mother wore no gem,Yet she alone outshone the rest of them.
She sat there shyly, head and eyes cast low;Her sleeves concealed the face she would not show.
Yet she alone was daughter of the queen;No other bore such bloom, such grace serene.
The queen was ’s daughter, high and pure;She gave the child a grace that would endure.
She grieved her child must leave her father’s hall,And pass beyond her kin and country’s call.
Of all those daughters, her alone I chose;I passed the rest, though each had cheeks of rose.
The Khan said, ‘Choose another; all are fair,Each one is noble, beautiful, and rare.’
I answered, ‘Choice is made; I will not stray;To choose anew would shame us all today.’
The Khan then called a Mobad to his side,To read the stars and fortunes of the bride.
The Mobad spoke: ‘You shall hear nothing hereBut truth and good; no evil shall appear.
From her and from the Shah a prince shall rise,A lion among men before all eyes.
Lofty in stature, mighty-limbed and bold,Brave as a lion, generous with gold.
Black-eyed, impetuous, and fierce in ire,He will be king when death has claimed his sire.
His father’s crown and treasure he shall gain;For many years from evil shall refrain.
Thereafter shall a mighty king arise,Leading the Turks beneath triumphant skies.
He will seek Iran and with his train,And bring the Shah to anger, fear, and pain.
The Shah will fear his high triumphant star,And dread his fortune, shining from afar.
Yet far away there lives a loyal man,A subject born from some heroic clan.
An exalted horseman, true in heart and hand,Tall, lean of frame, a guardian of the land.
Upon his head are crisp black locks like musk;His swarthy skin is dark as evening dusk.
His bones are strong, his nose is large; his willIs fierce and harsh, his temper harder still.
They call him Chubin; from the Parthian lineOf ancient kings his noble blood shall shine;
From and brave he draws his birth,A leopard fierce to purge the troubled earth.’
The Khan rejoiced past any man, when wordOf this auspicious prophecy was heard.
He gave your father his own fairest flowerOf all his daughters, with a splendid dower.
I took her for the Shah by solemn vow;The Khan with jewels decked her neck and brow.
So much was drawn from treasury and store,Its transport burdened me and many more.
He led his troops down to the river’s side,And placed aboard a boat the royal bride.
With sorrow for his child, he turned away,His heart oppressed by grief throughout that day.
Now I have told my tale before your face;O king of men, seek out that man of grace.
Dispatch your riders; comb each town and vale,For by his hand your cause shall yet prevail.
But tell this thing to neither friend nor foe;Let none beyond your hidden counsel know.”
Even as he spoke, his living spirit fled;The old man bowed, and with that word lay dead.
All folk bewailed him bitterly that day;The king of kings was stunned with grief’s dismay.
The nobles wept; the Shah then spoke aloudBefore the Iranians gathered in a crowd:
“Mehran Setad preserved this ancient tale,And told it now before his breath could fail.
Then, having spoken, he gave God his soul;Let God be thanked, who let him reach this goal.
Had I delayed one hour to bring him here,He would have died and left my heart in fear.
Now search our realm for this appointed one,Whether he be a lord or liegeman’s son.
Seek tirelessly, and do not end the quest,Until this warrior’s name is manifest.”
Then spoke, brave son of ’s race:“I know this champion, both in name and face;
It is , son of , whom you seek,The very warrior of whose signs you speak!
He governs and holds in hand,And guards the northern border of our land.”
The Shah sent Kharrad swiftly on his way,To bring the chieftain without more delay:
“Come secretly from , and rideAlone, with no attendants at your side.”
The envoy told him all that said,And of the triumph promised him ahead.
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In briefBahram reaches court, argues against buying peace, and is given command. He enrolls twelve thousand armored men, all aged forty, defends both choices from the poem’s own history, and receives from the Shah’s hand the dragon banner of Rostam.
He called no warriors from his own command,But hurried out from through the land.
That world-aspiring horseman reached the throne,And to the Shah his coming was made known.
When he beheld the king of kings, he bent;The old campaigner hailed his star’s ascent.
The Shah at first sight favored him and knewThe signs had named were true.
He smiled; his royal countenance grew bright,Then welcomed him and lodged him with delight.
When night cast off its veil of musky shade,The sun shone forth, its golden face displayed.
The frontier lord came proudly through the gate,And all the chiefs made way to mark his state.
The Shah then summoned him and bade him sitAmong the nobles, honored, grave, and fit.
He told how Iran stood in danger’s hour,And what had said of ’s power.
He asked, “Shall I make peace or choose to fight,And send my troops against King Saveh’s might?”
The warrior answered, “Peace must not be made,When he himself has come with battle’s blade.
If we sue peace while he desires the fray,We show defeat before the whole array.
The foe grows bold when he beholds you weak;A feast ill suits the hour when war should speak.”
replied, “What course is left to try?Shall I delay, or march where banners fly?”
He answered, “When the foe acts without right,The omen favors those compelled to fight.
The noble counselor said long ago:‘No match for justice is an unjust foe.’
Then seek the fight against this harmful king;For fire and water share no common spring.
If matters turn against us in the fight,The ancient sky may yet deny our might.
But if you yield your strength without a blow,And give up all you have before the foe,
Will holy God not judge you for that shame?Will heroes spare your honor and your name?
When ten thousand Iranian men lie dead,Will you turn back and waste the blood they shed?
What will the spiteful say of you that day,If you turn back from foes and run away?
When I rain arrows down on Saveh’s train,And make my bow a spring-cloud on the plain,
When iron gorzes, swords, and spears are cast,And battle’s ranks surge roaring through the blast,
If still no glimpse of triumph can be found,And fortune leaves our hearts in darkness bound,
Then we shall yield him cities from our hand,And all we own, as fortunes then demand.
But let us struggle till the sky makes plainWhether it brings us victory or pain.”
The Shah smiled; all the court grew bright at this,And veterans left the presence full of bliss.
They spoke with , saying, “From this hour,Be modest when you speak before such power.
King Saveh’s troops so densely fill the way,Even ants and gnats would find no path by day.
Who, after such bold words, will dare to standBefore the king and take the troops in hand?”
He answered, “Warriors of illustrious name,By our great Shah’s leave, I will claim that fame.”
Informants brought his answer to the throne,And told the Shah what Bahram had made known.
The king of kings rejoiced when this was heard,And fear of Saveh’s force no longer stirred.
He made Bahram the captain of the fight,And raised his valiant head to royal height.
All warriors who sought glory in the fieldAcclaimed him captain under royal shield.
He came before the king, his girdle tied,Prepared for war, yet steady in his stride.
He said, “By your leave, I shall call the roll,And read the fighting strength of every soul,
To learn who seeks renown and who is slack,Who stands in war and who will turn his back.”
The Shah replied, “You are the leader here;The good and ill of war are yours to steer.”
The chief went to the royal muster-ground,And ordered all the troops to gather round.
He chose among them those of highest name,The crown of chiefs, the hardened men of fame.
He wrote twelve thousand on the fighting roll,Mail-clad, with , of tested soul.
All those enrolled were forty years of age;He struck off youth and elder from the page.
held supreme command,Renowned in war, exacting, firm of hand.
He named , fierce in will,To lead the foremost ranks with war’s hard skill.
On battle-days he was to ride ahead,Wheel round his steed, and rouse the troops he led.
He was to cry his lineage through the field,And rouse the warriors till their doubts would yield.
He charged , who drew no rein,To guard the camp-stores and the baggage train;
Then , his brother, held the left,Bereft of fear, and in the saddle deft;
While rightward, warlike kinsmen formed their row,Prepared to turn their lances on the foe.
, who riding would not failTo seize the lion by its furious tail,
He placed at the rear to guard the line,A man whose strength in danger still would shine.
Then to the troops the declared:“O ardent chiefs, be disciplined, prepared.
If you would have God’s help against the weightOf this dark work that gathers round our fate,
Then do no harm, inflict no loss or ill,Nor arm yourselves for wrong or cruel will.
When through the night the ’s call is heard,Leap up at once, and spur without a word.
Then ride together, all with urgent speed,And raise a tumult, spurring every steed.
With rested horse and man, with strength renewed,Let no dread thought of battle-day intrude.”
When word of all Bahram had planned and wroughtHad reached the king, he gloried in the thought.
He praised the plan and deeds that Bahram showed,And from his treasury the payments flowed.
He gave Bahram the arms from royal stores,And opened every armory’s guarded doors.
Within the city he assembled thenThe finest battle-steeds for chosen men.
He told the captain, “Name, without a pause,Whatever serves the war and royal cause.
You know all kinds of warfare by your art,And Saveh’s stores of arms in every part.
You know what wealth, what soldiers, and what armsThat famous man can bring in war’s alarms.
His Turks will make earth quake upon the dayOf battle, when their banners fill the way.
Yet from the troops you chose a mounted forceOf just twelve thousand, armored man and horse.
I do not know how such a count can standAgainst the force that darkens all the land.
And you chose men of forty years insteadOf youthful swordsmen eager to be led.”
The chief replied, “O courteous Shah, attend;You know the words that ancient kings commend.
When Fortune lends her favor to your side,A little force may conquer far and wide.
By this same token I shall prove my view,If now the Shah will hear my counsel through.
When Kay in lay,In bonds with countless chiefs shut from the day,
Then chose twelve thousand horsemen bold,And freed the Shah and peers from prison’s hold.
Again, great , ’s noble son,The head of men whose glory had been won,
Chose twelve thousand armored men to ride,And took revenge for when he died.
Again, brave , fierce and strong,Led twelve thousand against ’s proud throng.
By stratagem he made the dust ariseFrom fort and army underneath the skies.
When any force exceeds this counted might,It grows too large for dash and ordered fight.
The chief who leads too vast a fighting bandWill lose his order as the lines expand.
As for your saying men of forty yearsAre less eager than youths with flashing spears,
At forty, men have learned from trials past;Their courage, tested, holds them firm and fast.
He still remembers bread and salt, the sealOf loyalty that binds the true to steel.
He fears the voice of blame, the loss of name,And stands his ground lest flight should bring him shame.
Nor do his wife and child and household bindA veteran’s spirit or distract his mind.
A youth is fooled by outward show and flame;Where patience should be, rashness stakes its claim.
He has no wife or child, no fields to tend;He cannot weigh the worth of what men spend.
Since wisdom rests on trials men have passed,The young man lacks the judgment years amassed.
If he should conquer in some single fight,He laughs, and lingers in his own delight.
But if another chances to prevail,His foes will see his back and watch him fail.”
The king grew fresh as roses in the spring,And said, “Put on your ; serve your king.
Depart the palace to the riding-ground;Let horse and weapon there with you be found.”
His helm and jowshan came at his command;He mounted, taking up his coiled .
The Shah and all his wazirs then went out,With arrows, clubs, and polo-balls about.
Bahram came, jowshan-clad, in Roman helm;The Shah then blessed the guardian of the realm.
He kissed the earth before the royal seat,His homage to the king of kings complete.
Then came the violet dragon-banner bright,The flag of Rostam, borne in ancient fight.
The Shah bestowed it: “Take it from my hand;A second Rostam rises in the land.”
Bahram then blessed the Shah and took his stand,The glorious banner under his command.
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In briefBahram asks for a recorder of deeds and marches from Tisfoon. He takes a sheep’s head from a seller’s basket as an omen of Saveh’s beheading. The Shah, warned he will one day turn, tries to recall him and is refused. A horseman is executed for stealing straw.
When dawn appeared above the mountain height,And like a shield the sun came into sight,
The chief approached the palace of the king,And bowed before the throne, low worshipping.
He said, “I was a man of no great claim,Yet through your have won an honored name.
One favor I request from throne and crown:Send me a trusted man of sound renown.
Let him record each warrior in the fight,Who strikes a foeman down before his sight,
And let their names throughout the world be known,Their fame through his account more widely sown.”
The Shah replied, “Let wise attend,To mark what deeds your warriors shall commend.”
He bade him go with to the field,To write each triumph on the battle-shield.
From all the army marched that day,With leading on the way.
A prudent, brave, and dauntless force he led;He watched them like a lion, keen and dread.
When he had gone, the monarch turned aside,And spoke in private with the priest beside.
He said, “On battle’s day this man will glowWith joy; what do you think? I wish to know.”
The Mobad answered, “May your life be long;May you live on, forever hale and strong.
With such a frame and speech, he must attainSuccess, and make a barren world bear grain.
Yet still I fear that he will rise one dayAgainst the lord whose favor paved his way.
How boldly he addressed you to your face,A lion speaking in your royal place.”
replied, “Do not let doubt obscureYour judgment, mixing poison with the cure.
If he defeats King in the fight,The crown and throne would be his proper right.
May he remain as now, so full of grace;Such gifts would suit him in a sovereign’s place.”
The Mobad’s face grew pale; he bit his lip;The king retained that thought within his grip.
After a while he chose a courtier near,A confidant whose words rang true and clear.
He said, “Pursue the today,And tell me all you witness on the way.”
The agent followed swiftly, known to none,A reader of omens under moon and sun.
He often read the omens for the crown,And watched the road for signs that fate laid down.
As Bahram rode out from Tisfoon’s domain,He led his chosen force across the plain.
A seller with a basket came ahead,With sheep heads on its cloth for sale outspread.
A clean cloth lay across the basket’s rim;The seller bore it on in front of him.
The chieftain spurred his horse and lowered his spear,Then raised a sheep’s head high for all those near.
He bore it high before the army’s view,Then cast it down, convinced the sign was true.
He said, “Thus shall I sever Saveh’s head,And cast it where his army’s lines are spread.
So shall I shatter all his gathered pride,And scatter Saveh’s troops on every side.”
The Shah’s emissary read the omen too:“This favorite of fortune will break through.
When he has brought his warlike task to an end,Against the Shah himself his will shall bend.”
He told the Shah, who sank in grief and pain;His verdant leaf grew withered in that strain.
He called a young courtier and sent him fast,To reach the Pahlevan before night passed.
“Go tell the captain of the ranks from me:Remain in camp tonight by my decree.
At dawn turn back and come before me here;I need to speak with you, with no one near.
I shall dismiss all strangers from my sight;New counsel has occurred to me tonight.”
The messenger reached Bahram and conveyedThe royal message from a Shah dismayed.
Bahram replied, “Men do not, wise Shah, callAn army back once marching, horse and all.
To turn us back would be an evil sign,And bring rejoicing to the foeman’s line.
I will return when victory crowns the way;Your realm and diadem will shine that day.”
The messenger returned before the king,And word for word reported everything.
The Shah accepted what the envoy said;The order to return was dropped instead.
At dawn the captain led the troops to ride,And called on God to be their shield and guide.
Toward he led his troops with firm command;No soldier dared do damage to the land.
A woman bore a sack of straw for sale,And hurried through the troops along the trail.
A horseman bought the sack she brought that day,Then rode off with the straw and did not pay.
He rode away. She came in grief and shame,And stood before Bahram to state her claim:
“I brought a sack of straw that should be sold;A horseman took the sack, but paid no gold.
He wore an iron helmet on his head;He took my goods and left,” the woman said.
They searched and found the culprit in the band,And brought him to the chief at his command.
Brave Bahram Chubin met him with a stare:“You thought your theft too small to warrant care?”
Before the chief’s pavilion he was led;They crushed his hands and feet and smashed his head.
A cleft his body clean in two;Through every unjust heart a shudder flew.
Then from the chief’s pavilion came a cry,To warn the noble captains standing by:
“O noble chiefs, attend the law I give:Who steals a straw shall not be left to live.
No man shall plead for him or bar his doom;My khanjar at his waist shall seal his tomb.
Let every man, with honest payment, buyThe goods he needs to keep himself supplied.”
Bahram resumed his march with ordered train,And moved toward across the plain.
The Shah feared Saveh’s elephants and might;And fear of Bahram troubled him by night.
One moonrise night he spoke to ’s son,, and said, “Prepare; this must be done.
Go to our enemy with watchful care;Do not sleep; ride as swift as moving air.
Mark all his troops, their number and degree,Their strength, their chiefs, and what their worth may be.
Learn who commands and who the champions are,What men among them shine in fame afar.”
He ordered that a letter of adviceBe written, with rich presents of great price.
He said, “Proceed to ; if troops rise,Know Bahram leads the force before your eyes.
Approach him first and speak as I have told;Convey my blessings to that captain bold.
Then tell him, ‘I shall go and lay the bait;Keep hidden who you are, and lie in wait.
If Saveh hears your fame and name declared,His mind will grow suspicious and prepared.
And I will draw him toward your net with art,With fair, extended parley on my part.’”
Kharrad, son of Barzin, made ready then,And left as ordered by the king of men.
He met with Bahram Chubin on the way,And gave the words the Shah bade him relay.
Then onward to King Saveh’s camp he went,Where troops, beasts, wealth, and elephants were pent.
He gained an audience and humbly bowed,And spoke with Saveh, far from all the crowd.
He used each argument and all his artTo draw that army toward Herat’s heart.
When Saveh came and camped beside the stream,The outposts moved beneath the evening gleam.
They marked Bahram Chubin, firm in command,With troops drawn up upon the desert sand.
They hastened back and told King Saveh straight,“A force has reached the plain by Herat’s gate.
That army comes with pomp and proud display;Its forces now have reached us on their way.”
King Saveh, troubled, wondered what to do,Then summoned Hormizd’s envoy into view.
He railed, “You of fraud and lies,Did you not fear the doom before your eyes?
You came from that vile Shah to set a snare,And draw me where Iranian troops prepare.
You brought an army here to face my might,And pitched their tents at Herat for the fight.”
Kharrad, son of Barzin, answered then:“The force before you is a few stray men.
Take not its coming as an evil sign;Some frontier lord proceeds by his design.
Perhaps a chief seeks shelter and draws near,Or merchants with their escort now appear.
Who would confront you, lord of so much might,Though mountains turned to seas before the fight?
I will send one to learn their chief’s intent,And why their forces to this place were sent.”
His words pleased Saveh, who at once replied,“In truth, this course is prudent and well tried.
We shall dispatch a scout to learn their name,And whether friend or foe directs their aim.”
Kharrad withdrew into his tent that night,As darkness veiled the mountain peaks from sight.
He made his preparations for the flight,To flee the coming wrath before the light.
At midnight Saveh sent out,His valiant son, to act as prince and scout;
That thoughtful youth rode swiftly on his way,And reached the place where Iran’s army lay.
He sent a Pahlevan ahead to cry:“Who are these warriors camped beneath the sky?
Who are your chiefs? What leader do you claim?Which champion among you bears great fame?
Parmudeh, Saveh’s prince and darling, seeksThe army’s chief, with whom he freely speaks.”
A warrior from Bahram’s army heard,And brought the captain every spoken word.
The captain left the camp-enclosure then;His banner rose above the gathered men.
Parmudeh saw him come, and spurred his horse,And rode in haste along the open course.
He asked, “Why halt? From where have you now fled?Estranged from , you left; or so men said.”
Bahram replied, “God keep such thought away;No vengeance on the Shah directs my way.
From Baghdad I have come at his command,To fight with all the warriors in my band.
When word of Saveh’s army reached the throne,The Shah gave orders I shall now make known:
‘With arrows, gorzes, swords, and spears, attack;Go forth against their force and drive them back.’”
Parmudeh then rode back and told his sire;Then Saveh sought the envoy in his ire.
They told him, “Kharrad fled.” The king replied,“How did that villain find a path outside?
With countless troops around us in the night,How could our watchmen let him slip from sight?”
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In briefSaveh sends word that Hormizd has sent Bahram to his death. Bahram answers that he serves with his life, then, pressed, offers Saveh a choice: peace with gifts and safe conduct to the Shah, or his head sent to court.
Then sent to with commandA fluent elder from his chosen band.
He said, “Tell that Iranian, ‘Do not stainYour reputation with a course so vain.
You know your king would have you meet your death;He sent you here to draw your final breath.
He bade you bar the road our armies tread;You heeded all the foolish things he said.
For with my troops and elephants in line,I trample mountains if their paths are mine.’”
heard the envoy’s word,And smiled at all the hasty talk he heard.
He answered, “If the king desires my death,I serve him with my life and final breath.
I yield whatever pleases him to claim,Though earth should close above my buried name.”
The envoy then returned to Saveh’s side,And told him what the warrior had replied.
Then Saveh said, “Return and ask him whyHe came to fight; what does he seek thereby?
Let him ask what he wants of me; let allHis wishes now be spoken, great or small.”
The envoy went once more across the plain,And spoke to Bahram in his monarch’s strain:
“Reveal the hidden purpose of your quest;My king’s star bids you honor his behest.”
Bahram replied, “Say, ‘If you seek the right,Seek no pretext to justify this fight.
If secret friendship with the Shah you seek,Come as my guest, and safely with me speak.
If peace, not havoc, moves your inward fire,Submit to what the laws of right require:
Lay down your arms, surrender all your gear,And let your troops in humble guise appear.
Then ride to court, submissive at his gate,And kiss the royal threshold of the great;
Our gracious Shah will grant you royal care,And robes of honor fit for you to wear.
If you seek friendship, he will grant you graceAnd greet you as befits your royal place.
But if you come for war, your course has ledTo seas where fierce s fill all with dread.
I shall drive you from in grief and shame;Your chiefs shall mourn the ruin of your name.
May wind and rain assail you on your track;May pits await you as you journey back.
Ill fortune brought you here to meet your doom,And seeks to send your head into the tomb.’”
The envoy turned and hastened on his way,And told the king what Bahram had to say.
King Saveh, hearing Bahram’s bitter speech,Grew wrathful at the man beyond his reach.
That chilling answer set his heart aflame;His cheeks grew hot beneath the weight of shame.
He said, “Tell him, ‘You in human guise,No fame or joy could come from your demise.
Your Shah is but a servant at my gate;My lesser men exceed your low estate.
Forsake that cruel Shah, who seeks your head,Whose hands with noble blood are dyed so red!
Join forces with my troops, and by my handReceive the crown and scepter of your land:
I shall bestow Iran upon your brow,If you renounce that faithless master now.
Why die for one whose heart is black with spite,And throw your precious life into the night?’”
That proud king’s envoy came to Bahram’s place,And gave those biting words before his face.
Bahram replied, “Conceal no word I say;Take all my answer back without delay.
Say: ‘I am low, you say; my humble nameAnd lowly standing bring me only shame.
The king of kings was too august to rideIn royal wrath against your swelling pride.
A man as mean as I now takes the field,With troops to make your royal kindred yield.
I shall cut off your head and send the kingA prize too base upon a spear to bring.
For one as low as I to seek your graceWould bring you shame and tarnish your high place.
You shall not see me till we meet in fight,My violet dragon standard in your sight!
That dragon marks your death; its stroke shall shredYour golden helm and cleanly cleave your head.’”
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In briefSaveh drums out his army and finds Bahram already holding the ground with Herat at his back, leaving the Turks a cramped and thorny field. He ranks forty thousand on each wing and a hundred thousand in the center, with elephants in front, and grieves at the confinement.
King ’s envoy heard those words of flame,Turned back, and told the king from whom they came.
The Turk king heard the envoy’s words of ire,And vengeance set his heart and head on fire.
He bade the tymbals thunder on the plain,And high-crested elephants lead the train.
The realm grew dark beneath the horses’ tread;The ’s cry through earth and heaven spread.
When heard that hostile force was near,Whose colors swept the plain from front to rear,
In yellow, red, and black in silk displayed,He bade his warriors mount and stand arrayed.
He rode in armor, prepared for fight;Behind him , foes before his sight.
He formed the wings; the troops were made as one,One heart, one body underneath the sun.
The world seemed forged of armor, s, light;The spearpoints shone like stars, so sharp and bright.
King Saveh viewed the field and its array,And saw his foe command the ground that day.
Herat stood at the back of Bahram’s force;Cramped ground denied the king a wider course.
He told the seasoned chiefs who gathered near:“A lying envoy drew our army here.
He tarried till their troops could take commandWithin the city, now beneath their hand.
He left me thorny scrub and narrow ground,A straitened field where all my ranks are bound.”
He ranked his army in that narrow place;The air grew indigo, earth hid its face.
Full forty thousand horsemen held the right,With javelins and spears prepared for fight;
The left held forty thousand, row on row,With bared blades burning to confront the foe;
One hundred thousand held the center line,Where Saveh’s golden throne and banners shine.
Before the front, the elephants stood tall,And blocked the field, a living fortress wall;
While crowded in the rear, the surplus massStood choked and useless in the narrow pass.
King Saveh grieved to see his army’s plight,Confined within a field so cramped and tight.
It seemed that Fortune turned against his reign,And sought to seize his throne upon that plain.
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In briefSaveh boasts of uncountable troops, a thousand armored elephants and the homage of every king, and offers Bahram his daughter, a crown and Iran’s throne. Bahram answers with proverbs and gives him two days before his head goes up on a spear.
Again from ’s plain King choseA guileful warrior, skilled in fluent prose.
He came before with formal awe,And bore this message under Saveh’s law:
“The Fortune of the heavens is not your friend;Will you not heed advice before the end?
Make wisdom now your friend; lift inward eyes,And weigh the strength your chosen course defies.
You have found two whose equals on the earthHave never yet been born of royal birth.
They shine like suns that wheel the heavens round,And ever in their s, armed, are found.
The first am I, the world’s true king by right;The next my son , high in might.
My troops outnumber leaves on every tree;No reckoner could number them for me.
My men and beasts outnumber drops of rainThat fall from clouds of spring upon the plain.
My tents, enclosures, stores, and gear defeatThe patient clerk who tallies sheet on sheet.
If you should count my steeds, my men, my lands,And mountain wilds beneath my royal hands,
You would marvel. All kings fit for that nameAre subject to my throne and royal claim.
If seas had life and mountains feet to roam,They could not bear my treasury from home.
Nor arms, nor goods, nor harvests of my toil,Could they remove from all my guarded soil.
The great of earth, except your Shah, acclaimMe king of kings and magnify my name.
Your life as well lies firmly in my hand;This much I know, and you should understand.
If I lead forth my troops in full array,No ant or gnat could find a path that day.
I own a thousand elephants, each oneIn ; their scent makes horsemen run.
Who comes from Iran or from Turan’s landTo bring more trouble than I can withstand?
From here until I stand at ’s gate,My troops shall grow, their numbers no less great.
Some madman must have lured you to this place;You neither love yourself nor know disgrace.
Your eye does not distinguish good from ill;How can such folly suit a wise man’s will?
Cease this contention; come before my throne,And you shall not stand friendless and unknown.
I shall grant office high, my daughter’s hand,A crown, and honor through my royal land.
Beside me you shall hold a high estate,And need no longer serve beneath the great.
When I have slain the Shah in open fight,And gained his crown and throne by sovereign right,
His crown and throne shall pass into your hand,His treasure and the trappings of command.
Then I shall march on , and leave to youThat army and its gold and treasure too.
I speak for your own sake, because your skillIn war has pleased my heart and royal will.
You know how armies form for battle day;Your father held command and knew their way.
My words are not mere courtesy or praise,But pity for the peril of your ways.
You have arrayed your puny force todayAgainst my army; cast such thoughts away.
No further message will be sent to you,If you turn back from what I bid you do.”
The envoy spoke; the chieftain heard him out,Then answered grimly, with no shade of doubt:
“O man of evil mark, no king of worthWins lasting fame through empty boasts on earth.
From all your speech, from opening to the end,On words alone, I see, your hopes depend.
The man whose day is ending seeks renownIn words, not deeds, before his sun goes down.
I heard your idle words with growing dread;My heart grew fearful of the harm ahead.
You say, ‘The Shah shall die, and I shall bringHis realm and throne to you, and Fortune’s spring.’
A chief once said, ‘Drive beggars from their town;They claim elsewhere its lordship and renown.
They boast: “I was the ruler of that realm;Its folk obeyed me, and I held the helm.”’
In this affair, before two suns have fled,I shall send to the Shah your severed head.
Upon a spear the bleeding head shall ride;The Shah shall see the end of all your pride.
As for your daughter, treasure, realm you own,I might have thanked you had your gifts been shown
In friendship, not in schemes against our state,Or plots against the Shah and royal fate.
You might have sent your daughter and your storeFrom your adorned and splendid palace door.
Then I in Iran would have been your friend,Not one who brings your warriors to their end.
My lance has reached your ear; my ’s bladeWill take your head, despite the boasts you made.
When you are gone, your head, your crown, your gold,Your daughter, toil, and treasure I shall hold.
You boast of countless crowns and thrones you claim,Of elephants and horsemen in your name.
A chief once said, ‘The faster runs the hound,The farther from the water he is found.’
The s misled your heart and brought you hereTo fight the Shah with neither shame nor fear.
Beneath God’s chastisement your heart shall quakeFor all the evil deeds you undertake.
You say, ‘The greatest crowned kings must kneel,And every city trembles at my heel.
The age bears witness to the realm I claim.’The roads to cities serve all men the same.
Both king and servant freely take the road;The way lies open to the same abode.
But knock upon the city-gate and see:A land of thorns is all your realm shall be.
You speak of pity, as if I were weak,And lacked the valor seasoned warriors seek!
No pity will you find before my spear,Nor boast of armies when my ranks draw near.
Your troops, your court, your elephants, your throne;I count them nothing when my strength is shown.
Though you are king, such falsehoods dim your light;No royal glory shines through such a blight.
I give you, Saveh, two days now to wait;When the world’s luster opens heaven’s gate,
Iran’s whole army shall behold your headRaised on a spear when all your blood is shed.”
The envoy turned, his face a pallid hue;His youthful Fortune aged as he withdrew.
He told King Saveh what he had to say;The monarch’s face turned black with fresh dismay.
Parmudeh said, “Why plead in such despair?Those meager troops deserve no fear or care!”
He reached the entrance of the camp and criedFor bells and gongs and elephants outside.
The kousts resounded, booming deep and loud,Till heaven itself seemed black beneath the cloud.
While that famed youth made ready for the fight,The king feared Bahram and his martial might.
He told his son, “Our chosen warrior, stay;Begin no battle till the break of day.”
Both armies drew apart; the watches spread,While fires burned bright and whispered rumors sped.
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In briefBahram dreams of defeat, prays, and has his archers shoot the elephants’ trunks; the beasts turn and trample the Turks. He overtakes Saveh, shoots him through the spine, beheads him, and puts to death the warlock who confesses to sending the dream.
Alone within his tent, he sent to callIran’s great s for counsel, all.
Within his tent he took advice for fight,Until both armies slept beneath the night.
The world lay still for any man to take,Yet ’s warlike thoughts remained awake.
While sleeping in his tent, that lion sawThe Turks advance with battle’s iron law.
His troops were routed; barred from flight or aid,He begged for life, on foot, alone, afraid.
He woke in grief, his noble head oppressed,And passed the dark with pain within his breast.
He told no man the terror of his dream;His heart held sorrow like a hidden stream.
Just then came , ’s wary heir,From Turkish camp with words he would declare.
He said, “What confidence is this you show?Behold the snare of below.
Do not cast Iran’s brave lives to fate unkind;Treat these great nobles with a prudent mind.
For valor’s sake, have pity on your life;No man has faced the like of such a strife.”
Bahram replied, “In your , we know,Men traffic fish through summer’s heat and snow;
Your folk know only reeds and waters damp,Unfit to counsel champions in their camp!
You are no man for spear or in war,Nor bow or shaft when battle’s thunders roar.
When sun climbs those dark mountains into sight,I shall show how kings and warriors fight.”
When Sol from Leo rose and whitened air,The sounded through the morning glare.
The battle-cry went up; earth shook belowThe horses’ hoofs as armies faced the foe.
Bahram arrayed his ranks, then mounted high,And grasped a war-worn gorz beneath the sky.
He placed three thousand veterans on the right,All mail-clad warriors of tested might.
An equal force he sent upon the left,Vengeful horsemen, bold and battle-deft.
, who rode through rivers, ledThe right, where many spears were lifted red.
, who held the leftward line,Served ’s holy fire and shrine.
supported both with might,A firm reserve prepared to join the fight.
held firm the center’s ground;His horseshoes fired the reeds with every bound.
With each there stood three thousand, s dressed,Stone-hearted s who met each test.
Then proclamation rang across the field:“O golden-crowned chiefs, stand firm; do not yield.
Who flees the fight, though lion should appear,Or leopard block his path and rouse his fear,
By God, I shall behead him, burn his frame,And leave his lifeless body to the flame.”
Two paths of flight lay open in the rear;Both roads he blocked with earthen ramparts sheer:
Ten rash in height he raised them, steep and tight,To bar his own Iranians from all flight.
The royal scribe drew near, aghast and pale:“This madness makes our very courage fail!
Among these troops we are one white hair shownUpon a sable ox, exposed, alone.
No soil, no hill, no stream is seen at all;Turanian swordsmen darken field and wall.”
Bahram cried, furious, “Coward at heart,Your ink and paper are your proper art.
Who bade you count the foemen’s force today,Or measure what the sword will sweep away?”
The scribe sought Kharrad, saying, “In his pride,Bahram has none but to be his guide.”
The scribes then sought some path by which to flee,So they need not behold the doom to be.
They feared both Bahram and the king of kings,And bit their lips at what the battle brings.
A steep height rose beside the battlefield;They climbed in fear, to see what it revealed.
“We must observe their ranks,” they said in dread,And watched the helm that crowned Bahram’s proud head.
Then Bahram, when his ranks were set in place,Withdrew from camp and fell upon his face.
Before his God, he cried aloud in dust,“O righteous Judge, whose every doom is just,
If this my conflict is unjust to You,And ’s cause is truer in Your view,
Then calm my heart within this battle’s roar,And grant him triumph over us in war.
But if I toil and strive at Your command,And risk my head in battle as I stand,
Make me and all my troops rejoice in peace;Let warfare’s torment through the whole world cease.”
Still praying loudly, he arose foursquare,His ox-head gorz raised high in morning air.
King Saveh cried, “Begin your spells and art,To cloud Iranian eyes and quell each heart.
Let no disaster fall upon our own;Let all their courage fail, their ranks be thrown.”
The sorcerers began their spells in air,And hurled wild fire through the murky glare.
A wind arose; a black cloud filled the sky,And rained its arrows on the troops nearby.
Bahram exclaimed, “Chiefs, nobles, men of war,Do not heed spells or fear their empty roar.
Come on in anger. This is nothing trueBut trick and sorcery brought forth for you.
The men who use such means deserve our tears;Stand firm in arms and cast aside your fears.”
The Iranians shouted, heated for the fight,While Saveh watched the field from left to right.
He saw the foe recoil not from his art,But press on harder with courageous heart.
Then Saveh led his troops against their flank,Like wolves on lambs, and shattered rank on rank.
He broke the left and charged against the coreOf Bahram’s army with a mighty roar.
When Bahram saw his soldiers flee the foe,He spurred his steed to strike three warriors low.
He hurled them from their saddles to the ground,Then cried aloud to all the troops around:
“This is the way to fight, this is the mode;Why bend in shame beneath the battle’s load?
No shame before , who rules the earth,The chiefs, and nobles of illustrious birth?”
Then like a hungry lion in his might,He wheeled against the enemy’s strong right.
He broke the mighty force before his eyes;Its leader’s banner vanished from the skies.
Then to his army’s center he withdrew,Where stood his generals with their ranks in view.
He said, “A curse upon this stubborn strife;Prolonged contention robs us of our life!
Look out and find in which direction liesA path of safe retreat before our eyes.”
They searched for some escape, but none lay clear;No road would let them leave the fighting here.
Then Bahram said, “An iron wall is reared;The brave will breach the wall the craven feared.
Whoever breaks that wall and wins a wayMay carry life to Iran from this fray.
Set all your hearts on battle; overheadRaise shields, and wield your s as you tread.
If sleepless Fortune pays us for our pains,Our toil shall bring us thrones and sovereign reigns.
Let none despair of God, lest you beholdYour white day blackened and your courage cold.”
King Saveh cried, “Bring elephants ahead,And make the field for foes a road of dread.
Attack in force; drive hard against the foe,And crush their ranks beneath each heavy blow.”
Bahram from far beheld the beasts appear,And grief and anger struck his heart with fear.
He drew his sword and called, “Now string your bows,Your bows of , to meet these mighty foes.
Put helmets on. By life and royal headOf our great Shah, whose fame is widely spread,
Let every man with bow and shaft in handDraw tight and hold his station where we stand.
Let each man lodge three shafts with deadly blowsWithin a trunk, then turn upon the foes.
Then out with gorzes; press into the fight,And slay your foes beneath victorious light.”
The chieftain strung his bow and set his helm;The steel casque flashed on him who kept the realm.
He made his bow a spring-cloud full of rain,And showered arrows thick across the plain.
The soldiers followed; pointed shafts took flight,And feathered arrows dimmed the stars from sight.
They pierced the beasts’ trunks, and the stricken groundBecame a pool of blood, with slain around.
The elephants, in anguish, turned and fled,And trampled down their own troops as they sped.
The troops of Iran followed close behind;The earth became a Nile no bank confined.
Confusion ruled, and many warriors died;Ill fortune crushed the Turkish army’s pride.
Behind the stricken troops there lay a place,Pleasant, adorned for Saveh’s royal grace.
There, on a golden throne, fierce Saveh stayed,And watched his broken army flee dismayed.
He saw his iron mountain flee in gloom,Heads full of dust, souls marching into doom.
Behind them the stampeding beasts came on,And trampled troops until their hope was gone.
He wept. Why should his army flee the plain?Then mounted his bay Arab in deep pain.
He fled in fear. Bahram pursued his flight,Like a wild elephant in maddened might.
A on his arm, his bow in hand,He shouted to his troops across the land:
“Ill fate has marked them; let your arrows rain!Ride on with swords, and reap them down like grain.
Acquit yourselves as Pahlevans in fight;Let none among you turn his back in flight.”
He reached the hill where Saveh held his state,Where he had sat enthroned before this fate.
He saw him fleeing on his Arab steedAcross the desert at a headlong speed.
He chose a shaft whose point shone clear and keen,Four eagle feathers on its length were seen.
He took his Chakh bow in his practiced hand,And set his thumb against the deer-hide band.
He straightened his left arm and bent his right;The bowstring thundered as the shaft took flight.
It pierced King Saveh’s spine; he toppled down,Headlong to dust, with blood beneath his crown.
The crowned king, from his army swept away,Left bare his golden throne at break of day.
Such deeds the turning sky performs below,Showing no love, nor hate for friend or foe.
Fear most when seated on the loftiest throne;Disaster comes when safety seems your own.
The brave Bahram came on and dragged the deadFace-down through dust, then severed Saveh’s head.
None of the gathered men came to his aid;No one approached him where the king was laid.
When Turks beheld his corpse beside the road,Their frantic wailing shook the world’s abode.
Then Saveh’s son said, “Fate has willed it so;Bahram’s bright fortune lays our army low.”
Multitudes died in straits and broken ways;The elephants crushed men in a bloody maze.
Not one in ten escaped the routed side;Some crushed, some headless, all their glory died.
When nine long spans of that grim day were done,No living foe remained beneath the sun,
Save captives bound and pierced in soul and frame,By grief and shafts, stripped of their former fame.
The road was strewn with armor, helms, and bows,With blades from and bodies of their foes.
Earth was a sea of blood where corpses lay,And riderless steeds wandered far away.
Bahram then searched the slaughtered field with dread,To learn which men of Iran now lay dead.
He said to Kharrad, “Give your aid, and learnWhich of our men will nevermore return.”
Kharrad went through the tents and searched the ground;One pious warrior nowhere could be found.
A chieftain named Bahram, a fearless one,A noble prince in valor matched by none,
Was of ’s line, a warrior knownThroughout Iran for valor of his own.
Half-mad with grief, Kharrad went forth to traceThe warrior’s path through death’s disfigured place.
He moved the slain and wounded forms aside,Yet found no sign of him in battle’s tide.
The army’s captain grieved aloud and cried,“Alas, wise warrior, where do you abide?”
But then the man appeared; his welcome sightUnlocked the captain’s heart to fresh delight.
He brought a ruddy, cat-eyed Turk in tow,Whose angry heart betrayed a sullen glow.
Bahram cried, seeing him, “May dust not beYour bride; may victory keep your spirit free.”
Then to that foul Turk, “Hell-visaged man,Banned from Paradise, declare your clan.
What is your name and birth? Speak what you are;Your mother shall have cause to mourn afar.”
He said, “I am a warlock; I do not dealIn manly arms or strength of sharpened steel.
I aid the sepahbods when troubles grow;My dreams disturb the calmest hearts I know.
I gave you that ill dream to harm your head;I should have sought more potent means instead.
My sorcery has failed; ill fortune tossedMy labor to the wind, and all is lost.
Grant quarter, and you gain in me a friend,Accomplished in all arts from end to end.”
Bahram considered, troubled at the thought:“This man might help us when a war is fought.”
Then said, “What profit had King Saveh gainedFrom this dark dealer, though his magic reigned?
All good descends from God on favored men.”He ordered that they slay the warlock then.
They killed the man as Bahram had decreed;His lifeless form could do no further deed.
Bahram stood up and said, “O Judge of all,From You come triumph, glory, rise, and fall.
High place and diadems beneath the sky,Distress and triumph come from You on high.
Blest is the man who walks Your righteous way!”The chief scribe came with praise for him that day.
He said, “ never saw your peer,Nor Bahram, nor , far or near.
O mighty Pahlevan, in you combineA lion’s courage, counsel, and design.
May no calamity draw near your breath;Through you Iran’s towns live secure from death.
The Pahlevans all serve you, and your shieldKeeps every man from harm upon the field.
A chieftain born of chieftains, honored, great,Blessed is your mother for her happy fate.
Your birth is blessed, and blessed the steps you take;Farr, wisdom, fortune follow in your wake.”
Then all the Shah’s great Pahlevans arose;The gathered nobles went to their repose.
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In briefBahram beheads the Turkish chiefs, sets their heads and banners on mules, and sends Saveh’s head to Hormizd on a spear. The Shah gives thanks, spends the treasure on the poor, the fires and the roads, remits four years’ tribute, and grants Bahram the eastern lands.
When night had curled its locks and veiled the sky,And sleep had closed the world’s exhausted eye,
The grew still; rest held the field,While heaven’s turning wheel its course revealed.
Through deepest night the wheel pursued its way,Until the golden vessel rose with day.
Then men awoke as sleep released its hold;The captain summoned all his comrades bold.
He said, “Behead the chiefs among the slain,The bold war-Pahlevans of Turan’s plain.
Each leader of the folk and captain deadShall have his banner flaunting near his head.
Set flags behind the heads of those who woreThe diadems of warriors before.”
He gathered mules to bear the heads away,And took them from the field where corpses lay.
Then called a scribe and spoke at length of all:The countless troops, the battle’s rise and fall,
The movements, chances, stratagems of war,And all the toil and hardship that he bore.
He told of warfare waged by Iran’s men,And how no horseman loosed his belt till then.
When he had written to the Shah, he choseA courier from the troops to bear his prose.
He set King ’s head upon a spear,A sign of victory made stark and clear.
He bade them bear that monarch’s standard too,And heads of chiefs from Chin and Turan’s crew.
On beasts of burden all were borne away,To reach the Shah with speed and no delay.
The prisoners and every captured thingHe kept in for the world’s great king;
While chosen riders rode with watchful sight,To guard the grisly trophies day and night.
They were to seek the Shah’s express commandTo march against Prince ’s own band.
A guide rode out before them on the road;The s rode with their grisly load.
They hastened, longing soon to reach the king,And greetings from and chiefs to bring.
The Turks withdrew, bereft of arms and steed,With neither gear nor baggage for their need.
Chin’s men and Turan’s horsemen turned away,Back to Turan in grief and deep dismay.
When tidings reached Parmudeh, low he bowedHis stricken head, and wept before the crowd.
A grievous wail rose from the Turkish side;That bitter day saw every hope denied.
Their heads were filled with dust, their eyes with tears;None ate or slept amid those stricken peers.
He called his warriors, weeping in despair:“Why did our countless troops so poorly fare?
How could they fail upon the battle-day?”A counselor replied in grief this way:
“We thought the foe was weak, yet none in fightCan match Bahram in courage or in might.
For every hundred warriors we could show,He had not even one to meet the blow.
Not one among his troops received a scar;God raised him high and blessed his rising star.
I could say more, but you have heard enough.”Parmudeh brooded, sullen, dark, and rough.
Within his wounded heart new anger burned,And he once more to thoughts of battle turned.
A hundred thousand fighting men remained,Renowned and battle-hardened, fully trained.
He struck his camp; his columns took the roadTo ’s bank, where its broad waters flowed.
Within ’s fort he barred the gate,And in that stronghold nursed his burning hate.
Meanwhile Bahram’s letter reached the throneOf Shah , to make his triumph known.
Hormizd sat with his nobles in the hall,And spoke his anxious thoughts before them all:
“For two whole weeks we have received no wordOf Bahram’s deeds; no tidings have been heard.
What counsel have you? What should we decide?”Just then the chamberlain came to his side.
He passed the gate and cried before the crowd:“May Shah Hormizd rejoice, serene and proud!
has triumphed in the fight,And Saveh’s fall has crowned Iran with light.”
The Shah called Bahram’s envoy to the throne,And seated him above the chiefs well known.
He asked of Bahram’s health, and how they fared,The battle-proven men whom war had spared.
The envoy said, “Exalted Shah, the dayWent as you wished; may joy attend your way.
Your enemy’s bright fortune now is dead;His crown has fallen from his royal head.
King Saveh’s head is raised before your gate;His younger son has shared his father’s fate.
His father called him ; both appearBefore your gate, each raised upon a spear.”
The king rose quickly, bowed, and, standing, raisedHis voice to God, and thus the Maker praised:
“O righteous Guide, who shaped the moon and sun,You have destroyed our foes and victory won.
Great was my wretchedness and my despairWhen that foe rushed upon us unaware.
No chieftain and no force achieved this deed;God’s goodness came to help His slave in need.”
From treasures left him by his father’s care,He brought a hundred thousand coins to share.
One third he gave in largess to the poor,And much to servants, loyal, tried, and sure.
One third went to the fire-temples and priests,To keep their holy rites and solemn feasts.
For and for , he decreedThe priests should have the funds their rites would need.
With what remained, men mended every way,Restoring ruined stations from decay.
They strengthened desert ways and resting-sites,Made travel safe through days and hostile nights.
Four years of tribute he remitted thenTo crowned rulers and the poorest men.
Then letters, sealed, to all the nobles sped:“Bahram has struck our foe; our fear has fled.
King Saveh’s head was severed in the fray;The world has seen his triumph in our day.”
The Shah spent two full weeks in prayer and praise;Then when the world’s light opened brighter days,
He called the envoy back before the throne,And wrote to make his royal favor known.
He raised Bahram to honor in the state,And sent rich gifts befitting his great fate:
A silver throne, gold sandals, rich brocade,And royal treasures, gleaming, gold-inlaid.
From to the river’s mighty flow,He granted Bahram all the lands below.
He bade, “Divide the spoil with judgment fair,And give each warrior his rightful share.
But Saveh’s private wealth belongs to court;Send every piece with guards and strong escort.
Then march on Parmudeh without delay;Let him not grow in power while you stay.”
Hormizd sent gifts to all Iranian men,Confirmed by letters from the royal pen.
They gave the messenger a robe of state,Then called for noble steeds before the gate.
When Bahram’s envoy reached him, and he learnedThe Shah’s reply, with pride and joy he burned.
He gave the troops much booty from the field,Except the royal share he had to yield.
He sent that wealth with horsemen of renown,Who bore it safely to the royal town.
They bore it all to court by the royal way,While Bahram and his army sought a new fray.
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In briefParmudeh crosses the Jihun to avenge Saveh. Warned against Wednesdays, Bahram spends one feasting in a garden and is surrounded; he breaks out, then storms the Turkish camp by night. Parmudeh flees to Avaza, and Bahram rings the fortress.
When news came sought him as a foe, fled to ward the coming blow;
Within ’s hold, in chambers deep,He stored his gold and barred the mountain keep.
Then, crossing , he led out his force,And toward the field of battle took his course.
Both armies halted, ready for the fray,Two stages out from along the way.
Between the armies two farsangs of groundLay fit for war, where death and fame are found.
Next day brave Bahram rode abroad to scanParmudeh’s troops and judge each fighting man.
He chose a height above the level land,And mounted all his troops at his command.
Parmudeh saw them fill the desert’s face,With Bahram at their head in warlike grace.
He marveled at his stature and his frame,And on his lips was God’s oft-spoken name.
He groaned in grief: “A lion leads this foe;Yet few the warriors in his ranks, I know.
Their leader is a reckless man of might;Beneath him earth will redden in the fight.
At night we shall attack and drive them back,And banish terror from the army’s track.”
Returning to his camp, he planned the fray,And praised the steeds in that small foe’s array.
“Their troops are few, yet excellent their steeds;Their warriors match the chief whom valor leads.
has a heart like flame;To him, spears, thorns, and weeds are all the same.
He conquered ; triumph makes him brash,And blood has made him drunk and quick to clash.
With God to aid me, vengeance I shall takeUpon that mountain for my father’s sake.”
When Bahram marched to crush the Turkish might,A star-seer warned him of the hour to fight:
“On Wednesday, draw no weapon from its sheath;Ill-omened battle yields a bitter wreath.”
Between both camps there lay a garden fair,Beside the field, in pleasant morning air;
When Wednesday dawned, he sought that shady space:“Let wine and harp make glad this peaceful place!”
They spread fine carpets and prepared a feast,With wine and food, while songs and joy increased.
He feasted in the garden without fear,While battle’s shadow still was drawing near.
When one watch of dark night had passed away,The outposts came to where Parmudeh lay.
They said, “Bahram is feasting in the close.”Parmudeh’s anger like a night-wind rose.
He chose six thousand horsemen, brave in fight,With swords and spears, but not a lamp for light.
He sent them out to ring the garden wall,And hold the ground about it, one and all.
When Bahram learned the purpose of their raid,He called and sought his aid:
“O chief, break through this wall and clear our way,Before the Turks close in and win the day.”
Brave Bahram mounted with again,Accompanied by tested fighting men;
They poured out through the breach to meet the foe,And dealt the raiding Turks a crushing blow.
At garden-gate the s raised their cry;The chieftain charged as battle thundered high.
They quickly made a second breach and came,And struck the foe amid the night’s dark flame.
Bahram, half-drunk, with dart within his hand,Assailed them fiercely on the broken land.
Few men escaped him as he cleared the field;Though half-drunk, still his courage would not yield.
As smiths’ hard hammers ring on tempered steel,So rang the blows beneath the turning wheel.
From garden wall to where Parmudeh stayed,Along the road the headless dead were laid.
When Bahram had returned into his place,He planned a night attack with iron face.
Past midnight he armed all his men and ledHis forces where the dark its mantle spread.
Among the Turks no scout beheld his way;No watcher saw him till the horns’ wild bray.
When he had reached the ground, the karnays cried;The warrior Turks awoke on every side.
From each wing s and shouting rose;Their clamor filled the hearing of their foes.
Amid the spears that crowded all the ground,No man could tell what comrades stood around.
Iranian s flashed with fiery light,And seemed to set the earth and air alight.
Of all those valiant Turks but few remained;The stones turned coral-red where blood had rained.
Their leader fled like dust, his mouth gone dry,His lips turned blue beneath the darkened sky.
So passed the night until the dawn drew breath,And somber darkness drew its skirts from death.
The Iranian chief then overtook the foe,And roared up like a lion from below:
“O runaway, you shame the brave today;You are no man of battle; ride away.
It fits you still to suck your mother’s milk,Not wear a or a robe of silk.”
The prince replied, “Fierce lion, how long stillWill you pursue this slaughter with such will?
Nahang and desert leopard sated grow;Is there no end to blood you cause to flow?
You struck King Saveh’s head from off its place,A man whose the circling skies embrace.
You slaughtered troops; the sun and moon looked onIn pity for the lives that now are gone.
I am the remnant of my father’s reign;Regard me now as one already slain.
Both Turk and Iranian are born to die;No birth beneath this heaven can pass death by.
I flee, you follow, yet you cannot takeMy life until its destined hour shall wake.
If sword in hand I turn against your might,One of us may be slain in single fight.
Do not be hasty, hot of head, or stern;A noble chief from such extremes should turn.
I shall go to my tent and write the king,And seek the safety that his grace may bring.
If he accepts me and will grant me grace,I shall serve his court and yield my royal place.
Put war and strife away. You came to fight;Now feast with goodwill after battle’s night.”
Bahram, on hearing, turned his force away,Agreeing to the royal course that day.
When all his troops had rested, Bahram wentTo where Parmudeh’s army pitched its tent.
They cut the chieftains’ heads from every side,And heaped them mountain-high where warriors died.
The warriors, assembled on the plain,Named it Bahram’s Mound above the slain.
They gathered weapons scattered on the ground,And brought the captured gear beside the mound.
Bahram then wrote the Shah of all the fight,Parmudeh’s army and its broken might.
He told what he had suffered in the fray,From Turks and their proud monarch on that day.
He wrote that from the field Parmudeh fled,And in Avaza’s fortress hid his head.
Parmudeh shut the fortress gate in fear,And brooded on the danger drawing near.
The troops surrounded all the fortress ground,But no means of attack could yet be found.
Bahram said, “Better war than long delay;To linger at this task is not the way.”
He bade Yalan-sina choose from the fieldThree thousand horsemen armed with sword and shield.
Gashasp led, at the chief’s behest,Four thousand warriors, battle-tried, the best.
“Behead all found; let blood flow far and wide,A river that may draw the king outside.”
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In briefBahram calls on Parmudeh to open the gate, send down his treasure and ask for grace. Parmudeh answers with a long warning on Fortune’s turns, admits his father sought what was not his, and agrees to ask the Shah — not Bahram — for quarter.
before the fortress held his ground,Three days encamped with warriors ringed around.
At sunrise on the fourth, he sent a callTo Prince , sheltered by the wall:
“O prince of Turan’s marches, why now chooseThis mountain hold, your liberty to lose?
Where now is ’s quest for boundless power,His wealth and all the splendor of his hour?
Where are his elephants in armor bright,His noble chiefs, his spells and magic might?
All Turkdom once seemed small beneath your hand;Your father had no peer in any land.
Now woman-like, you hide within this place,With tear-stained eyes and terror on your face.
Unbar the gate and ask for grace today;Before the Shah I shall your plea convey.
Send down your treasures and your hoarded gold,From fortress towers and chambers of the hold.
If you would hoard your gold, give up your reign;A king regards mere coins with proud disdain.
For you I shall petition at the court;As Iran’s champion, I shall lend support.
I shall make you chief above the chiefs in name,And raise you higher than your proudest aim.
If some concealed design may ease your plight,And turn your dark adversity to light,
Confide in me, since matters stand this way;Hold back no longer; cast no hope away.
But if companions still remain for fight,With treasure, gold, and troops of gathered might,
Then beat the ; let vengeance ride;With wealth enough, fresh troops can be supplied.”
The envoy came and spoke the message true;Parmudeh heard and answered what was due:
“Go say to him: ‘Search not the world’s deep scheme;Your sudden triumph makes your boldness gleam!
Your victory has borne its fruit today,Yet do not boast; the old world has its way.
The turning sky’s deep purpose no one knows;It veils the face behind the acts it shows.
Mock not the fallen, ; I tooHad elephants and tabiras on view.
I too had soldiers massed across the plain;Trust not the sky, well schooled in fraud and pain.
My sire was mighty, great in power and fame;You faced him when to wage his war he came.
The earth lay bound beneath his horse’s tread,And heaven seemed to circle where he led.
Yet still he sought what was not his by right,And would not turn aside from wrongful fight.
His prowess now lies overlaid by shame,And enemies from far deride his name.
You spoke of troops whose numbers seemed to vieWith beams of sun and moon across the sky.
Those steeds and elephants, like seeds, were groundWithin the mill as Fortune turned it round.
All this will pass, and you shall pass with all;Your star will lose its luster at your fall.
Fear Fortune’s sharp revenge, for she may throwHer bane into the healing draft you know.
When one makes human blood his wanton trade,And strikes the innocent with reckless blade,
His own shall flow as flowed the blood he shed,Till in the dust he joins the silent dead.
Though you may wreck the country of the Turks,In time revenge will rise from where it lurks.
I fear to come before you, lest I die;You serve; a king by birth and rank am I.
Shall I abase myself before a thrall?A lone attack my friends would madness call.
Yet in extremity there is no stainTo seek the Shah’s protection and remain:
Procure your monarch’s sealed and sworn decree,A pledge of safe-conduct to rescue me;
Then take the fortress and its hoarded gold,And rule the fertile lands that I enroll.’”
The envoy came and told him what he heard,And Bahram’s heart was gladdened by the word.
🏇💪✍️📜📨👑👂🎉🙏👥💎🎁🐎✍️📜🔏🤝🕊️👦👑🛡️⚖️📨🏇💪🏰💰27 emoji · the whole poem in emoji →
In briefBahram writes asking a safe-conduct for the Khan. Delighted, Hormizd rewards the envoy, has the warrant written on silk under seal with God as witness, and orders Parmudeh brought to court with honor and the spoil forwarded to the treasury.
They wrote a letter, pressed on it the seal,And sent it to Shah in appeal.
“The Turkish Khan now pleads to gain your grace; has hemmed him in a narrow place.
A sealed safe-conduct he requests today;Such news calls for a feast without delay:
For ’s heir has bowed his head so low,From height of glory into grief and woe.”
The letter came; the Shah, in spirits high,Raised up his royal crown toward the sky.
He summoned all Iranians to his side,And ranked them near the throne in ordered pride;
He bade them read the letter in his hall,While on the scribe showers of rubies fall.
“Three watches long I praise my God at night;The Turkish Khan is subject to our might!
High heaven now has made our crown secure;His vast presumption could not long endure.
He raised his head until it touched the sky,And thought himself the sovereign throned on high.
Yet now this prince, with pride once overblown,Bows to a servant sent out from our throne:
The Turks’ proud lord has laid his glory down,And rendered homage to our ancient crown!
Praise to the Ruler of the sun and moon,The Source of every crown and royal boon.
Praise God in every righteous deed you do,And let no chance for goodness pass from you.”
He called Bahram’s own envoy to his seat,And heard his words with favor, kind and sweet.
He called for gem-set girdle, robe of state,And kingly steed with trappings rich and great.
With every golden buckle jeweled bright,The horse was dressed in royal wealth and light.
He gave the envoy dinars, heap on heap,And precious gifts that royal stewards keep;
A robe of woven gold the courier wore,While horses carried honors to his door.
He summoned then a scribe and bade him writeOn silk a warrant, formal, sealed, and bright:
“ Khan shall rest in peace secure;Beneath our royal seal this pledge is sure:
We swear by God, who rules the turning sky,No hand shall harm him as he passes by;
His blood and honor sacred shall remain,Escorted safely across our domain.”
He wrote to Bahram too in words of grace,A letter sweet as heaven’s own embrace:
“Send Prince Parmudeh with his army here;Treat him with honor, free of harm or fear.
The booty taken from his routed train,The spoils you won with valor on the plain,
Send all to court that forms the royal share;The Maker’s aid shall guard you everywhere.
Seek out the foe and take his goods in hand;Burn down his house, but keep and hold the land.
If further troops are needed, they are yours;And wealth shall reach you from the royal stores.
Set down your needs in writing; I will sendWhatever troops you need until war’s end.
Name those Iranians faithful to your side;Their toil shall earn rewards I shall provide.
Your men shall govern marches as their due;A crown and Pahlevanship go to you.”
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In briefParmudeh rides past without a glance; Bahram has him dragged on foot and strikes his head. Warned, he repents and sends gifts, but Parmudeh will not hide it from the Shah. The scribes inventory Avaza, where Siavash’s belt lies — and Bahram keeps two prizes back.
When the Shah’s letter reached the famous chief,New youth arose and banished age and grief.
The king’s high words amazed him, and he sentTo call the chiefs and envoy to his tent.
He showed the Shah’s rich gifts to every man;They blessed King as acclaim began.
He showed the warriors what the Shah had penned;Their shouts made earth itself appear to bend.
He sent the honored warrant to the hold,The royal seal upon its silk and gold.
’s darkened spirit brightened then;He praised the king before his gathered men.
He left his fortress, famous, strong, and high,And gave its wealth to standing by.
Bahram sent guards to count what lay inside,And list the treasures stored there side by side.
Descending from the hold with haughty stride,The Khan rode down the slope in lofty pride;
He passed the lines in arrogant array,Nor deigned to look where Bahram held his way.
Bahram resented how the Khan rode by,Though he had gained a king, a prize so high.
He sent men after him and had him ledAfoot before the troops, with humbled head.
Parmudeh said, “Once I was raised aboveThe folk, with kingship, majesty, and love.
But now I come a suppliant, brought low,Cast down from glory into shame and woe.
Today you show a harsh and cruel faceIn dragging me before you in disgrace.
Now that I hold the warrant of the king,I go to court beneath his sheltering wing.
Perhaps he will receive me brother-wise,And lighten grief before my wounded eyes.
What more would you demand? My wealth, my throne,And all my goods I gave you as your own.”
At these cold words, Bahram’s fierce eyes caught flame;His fury burst beyond all bounds of shame:
He raised his whip and struck Parmudeh’s head,A wanton stroke that filled the chiefs with dread!
They bound the royal prince without delay,And in a narrow tent he spent the day.
, son of , said in pain,“In Bahram, wisdom does not seem to reign.”
He drew the chief scribe near him and confessedHow Bahram’s temper left his soul distressed:
“He has not one mosquito’s wing of wit;He scorns all men and thinks no counsel fit.
He heeds no man. We must go speak today,And tell him, ‘Wrath will lead your mind astray.
Your temper is your deepest source of shame;It wastes your toil and stains your victor’s name.’”
They went to Bahram, pallid in the face,With counsel on their tongues and measured pace.
They said, “You throw your labor to the air;Let not your head with anger blaze and flare.”
He knew his deed was vile; in shame and dread,He laid a heavy hand upon his head:
Like unbaked brick dissolved in churning tide,His rashness washed away his victor’s pride.
Repentant, he unloosed the captive’s chain,And sought to soothe the prince’s grief and pain.
In great concern he sent a horse arrayedIn golden trappings, for a monarch made.
An Indian sword in golden sheath he sent,Then went himself to soothe the Khan’s lament.
He stayed until the Khan had clasped his beltAnd swung astride a racer, sleek of pelt.
Then Bahram rode beside him on his way,And saw the prince’s face was dark and gray.
When time had come to part, Bahram then said,“You bear a secret grudge within your head.
Yet hide this secret grievance from the king;No honor lies in charges you may bring.”
The Khan replied, “Of Fortune I complain;I leave all judgment to God’s hidden reign.
I am not one who spreads reports abroadOf other men, their deeds, their rank, or fraud.
Yet if your monarch hears no news of this,He is not worthy of his throne and bliss.
The turning sky has bound me to this state;I do not speak of servants’ wrongs or hate.”
At this, Bahram grew pale and writhed within,Yet swallowed down his wrath and held it in.
He said, “This proves the warning wise men give:Sow evil, and its bitter fruit will live.
For time will give you fruit of what you cast,And bitter harvests ripen at the last.
Why did I fill my heart with loyal care,And seek to show you kindness everywhere?
I wrote the Shah and hid your every shame,And softened every fault that bore your name.”
The Khan replied, “That evil time is past;Those former words are wind that cannot last.
Yet insolence belongs to days of strife,And courtesy to peace and settled life.
If war and peace are all the same in deed,Your wisdom offers little in our need.
When leaders think themselves too wise to heedTheir king’s commands, they sow an evil seed.
One ought to walk God’s path and cleanse the heart,And bid the darkness in the soul depart.
It would be well to say no more today;For past ill, like the wind, has passed away.”
Then Bahram smiled: “I thought this would stay hid;I shall not veil in silk the wrong I did.
Speak as you will when you arrive at court;My name will bear no stain from your report.”
The Khan said, “Kings must weigh both good and ill,And judge their true degree with even will.
A king who lets his servants’ crimes take flightIs witless and abandons royal right.
When malcontents afar observe that thing,Allies and kings will judge both slave and king.
They call you reckless, witless, light of head,And say Iran’s own king is poorly led.”
Bahram grew pale; and Kharrad saw his ire,And feared that counsel soon would feed the fire.
He feared that bloodthirsty, wrathful manWould hurl Parmudeh down and end his span.
He said, “O , master your wrath;Abandon bitterness and leave this path.
The Khan spoke well; now hear him without blame,For calmer words may quench both hearts’ hot flame.”
Bahram replied, “This man of evil breathWould gladly join his father now in death.”
Parmudeh said, “Do not renew this woe;I lost my father; do not wound me so.
All those in this world who resemble you,With dust-cloud heads and hearts of smoking hue,
Imagine ill, agree with none, and raiseThemselves by craft and cruelty for praise.
You threaten me with Hormizd’s sovereign power;I shall not flee what comes in fate’s own hour.
He is my peer among the great in fame,Not a maligning slave who hates my name.
He is gentle, wise, and high of birth,And mindful of the men of name on earth.
By Hormizd’s soul and head I charge you now:Return at once and cool your angry brow.
Give me no more replies; let speech now cease;Say nothing more, and leave my heart in peace.”
When Bahram heard, he turned with wrathful treadBack to the camp, where anger filled his head.
That proven warrior called the wise to hear:“Kharrad and chief scribe, , draw near.
Now write a letter to the world’s great king,And tell him every public, private thing.”
He told the chiefs and Mobadan, “DepartNow to the hold, with diligence and art.
Go like the wind; discover, count, and tellWhat treasures in ’s chambers dwell.”
The scribes set out with fearful hearts that day;From dawn they wrote till daylight passed away.
Until three watches of the night were past,They filled the pages, but the hoard stayed vast.
There was no room to move for precious things,The hoards of ancient ages, wars, and kings.
Spoils of ’s era there were stored,And ’s wealth in treasuries outpoured.
Gold coins and jewels won from sea and mineLay heaped there by the favoring sky’s design.
Such were the treasures in Avaza’s hold,World-famous, measureless in gems and gold.
Among the goods of came to lightA belt whose golden clasps were jeweled bright;
Two drop-pearl earrings, such as none on earthHad ever witnessed of such matchless worth:
gave them once to ’s hand;Then Lohrasp passed them to ’s command.
Then Arjasp took and stored them there unknown;No living man could tell how long they shone.
They made a full account of every prizeStored in the treasuries beneath their eyes.
Yet no astrologer, nor prince acclaimed,Could know the sum of wealth the fortress claimed.
Bahram then sent a scribe, shrewd and aware,Eloquent, mindful, fit for royal care.
He gathered booty from the hold and field,And every prize the war had made them yield.
Among the spoil were earrings rich and rare,An imperial crown fit for a Shah to wear.
A dragon-coronet of beaten gold,Once worn by famed Siavash, they could behold.
Two cloths of , woven gold and fine,And each weighed seven mans by measured line.
Through fatal pride and arrogance of will,The captain chose to keep that treasure still:
He hid the cloths; no scribe was let to traceThat golden crown or list it in its place!
He ordered forth to ride,With one full thousand horsemen at his side.
He asked the Khan for camels for the load;He counted out their burdens for the road.
The Khan rode first, his nobles riding near;The horsemen followed, guarding from the rear.
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In briefParmudeh arrives with the treasure. King and Khan each watch to see who will dismount first, and the chamberlain settles it by taking the rein. Hormizd lodges him royally and feasts him. A punning remark about Chubin’s wooden music leaves the Shah suspicious.
With troops and treasure, gifts in rich array,The Khan drew near the monarch’s court that day.
The Shah received the news and took his standWith crown on head and within his hand.
He reached the gate and from the porch surveyedWhat honor by the Khan and troops was paid.
He paused to see if they would quit their steeds,While watched ’s looks and deeds.
Still mounted, with beside,The Khan approached with grave, imperial pride;
Lest either monarch should concede the right,King Hormizd took a courser sleek and light:
He rode a coal-black Arab through the gate,To greet the prince in equal royal state.
Beside the Khan he stayed a little space,Within the entrance of the royal place.
The chamberlain reached out and seized his rein;The Khan dismounted there before the train.
By yielding so, exact and self-possessed,He showed the tact by which his suit was blessed.
When he came near the throne, the king, grown kind,Received him, leaving bygone wrongs behind.
He welcomed him with honor near the throne,Repenting all the hatred he had shown.
They lodged him in a palace bright and fair,With all things needful ordered for his care.
A scribe was charged to lodge his retinueClose by, with every honor that was due.
When word of all Parmudeh’s wealth was told,The Shah arranged the keeping of the gold.
Within the square the laden beasts stood rankOn rank, each driver at his camel’s flank.
On the eighth day, the Khan’s long toil had ceased;The Shah commanded court to hold a feast.
When Khan and nobles gathered at the board,They sat before King Hormizd, Iran’s lord.
He bade them bring the camel-burdens near;The nobles gasped to see such wealth appear:
Ten thousand porters labored in arrayTo haul that fortune through the gates that day.
At dawn, when wine refreshed the royal hall,Shah Hormizd took his seat before them all:
Full fifty thousand packs of costly wareWere borne inside from out the palace square;
A hundred vaults were filled with hoarded gold,Amassed from battlefields and keeps of old.
When all the public reckoning was complete,The Shah had garments brought before his seat.
With jeweled earrings and a girdle bright,The clothes were rich with gold and jeweled light.
Then through the banquet hall arose acclaim:“Victorious be the Shah in crown and fame!”
He asked Izad Gashasp, “What say you now?Has Chubin set our crown upon our brow?”
Izad replied, “When Chubin’s wooden strainResounds, the trees will shed their fruit in pain!”
Those covert words aroused the monarch’s dread;Suspicion gathered in his troubled head.
👑📜👀💎👑😠🏇💪💰👦👑👥🤝🤞🔥🛕✍️📜🤲🐎💎👦👑🧭🏇💪🐎👣👦🚫🎁🏇💪😔34 emoji · the whole poem in emoji →
In briefThe chief scribe reports that Bahram Chubin has kept part of the Turkish spoil, including Siavash’s crown. Hormizd, angered, honors the captive Parmudeh instead, binds him by oath and sends him home laden; the Khan snubs Bahram on the road, and the Shah’s resentment hardens.
A sturdy camel-courier reached the throneAnd brought the chief scribe’s message, sealed and known.
“May the great Shah forever joyful stand,His crown held in his servant’s heart and hand.
Two fine Yemeni cloths were in the spoil,With ancient treasures of Turanian soil:
A crown of gold, with radiant jewels bright,Which famed had worn in ancient fight.
From these the chief took treasure for his own,And kept that portion from the royal throne;
He bore the toil of battle; is it strangeThat he should keep some treasure in exchange?”
said to , “Tell me trueAll that you saw in this affair and knew.”
The prince confirmed the scribe’s report, and said:“He struck with whip your safe-conduct and my head!”
The haughty Shah grew dark within his court:“ has strayed from right, by your report!
He lifts his head as high as heaven’s height,And dares strike royal blood with lawless spite!
Now shall a monarch’s crown indulge his greed?Does this proud servant claim our royal breed?
His toil is wind; the good he did is lost;His justice turns to wrong at bitter cost.”
He called the Khan and seated him nearby,And feasted him with royal honor high.
They sat till night spread musky tresses wide,And darkness gathered over every side.
The Shah said, “For my sake you suffered so;Here, from my people, you have met with woe.”
He took the Khan’s hand firmly in his own;Parmudeh marveled at the favor shown.
The Shah went on: “Now swear a solemn oath,And let our faith be binding on us both.
When you return, break faith with none of mine,Not me, nor nobles of the Iranian line.”
They swore great oaths by God, whom all revere,And by the lives of chiefs assembled here;
By Him above all greatness, all we know,Who gave both Venus and Jupiter their glow;
By sun and moon, by royal crown and throne,They pledged the faith their solemn words made known;
By ’s enduring sacred flame,They bound themselves beneath that solemn name;
By signet-ring and diadem they sworeThe Khan would turn against the Shah no more.
He would not let his heart from Hormizd stray,Nor cause him grief in any deed or way.
That oath complete, the gathered kings arose,And each one sought his couch in night’s repose.
When yellow sun had climbed the mountain crest,The kings awoke from their appointed rest.
The noble Shah prepared a splendid trainOf gold and silver, steeds with jeweled rein,
Rich coronets and girdles worked in gold,With armlets, torques, and earrings manifold.
Arabian horses stood in golden gear,And Indian swords in golden sheaths were near.
He sent them to the Khan, then rode besideHis guest through parting stages, stride for stride.
Two stages, then a portion of a third,He rode, then turned with many a parting word.
When Bahram heard what gifts the Shah had sent,And how the Khan returned in high content,
He rode to meet him with a chosen train,His heart still troubled by remorse and pain.
He stored provisions where the Khan would pass,In town and village, hill and open grass.
Ashamed of all the wrong that he had done,He sought forgiveness from King ’s son.
He greeted him with blessings on his way;The Khan turned from him, nothing more to say.
No coin, provision, slave, or gift he took;He rode as though he would not spare a look.
For three full stages Bahram rode beside;The Khan ignored him with unwavering pride.
Upon the fourth, Parmudeh sent to say:“Turn back; you have endured enough today.”
When Bahram heard that cold, dismissing word,Chagrin and sorrow in his bosom stirred;
He turned his rein toward in silent dread,While on to all the rumors sped.
There, shamed and sore, he brooded on his deed;Meanwhile the Shah’s resentment gathered speed.
He loathed the blow that brought the Khan disgrace,And spoil seized without royal word or grace.
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In briefHormizd writes Bahram a letter of contempt and sends him a woman’s outfit — distaff, spindle and cotton, a gown and a veil of golden thread — with iron fetters, with a base envoy instructed to add insults and to announce his removal from command.
The king then wrote to in disdain:“O foul, rebellious , corrupt and vain!
Blind arrogance has robbed you of your sense;You mock our majesty with insolence!
You fail to see that God grants all your might,Yet mount the turning heavens in your flight.
Have you forgotten all our toil and strain,The gold and armies lavished on your plain?
You shun the path true s maintain,And lift your haughty head in proud disdain!
You turned aside from what my word decreed,And chose instead another path and deed.
Here is the robe of honor fit for you,A gift well matched to everything you do.”
The Shah then sealed the scroll and gave commandTo fetch the emblems of the spinner’s hand:
A distaff, case, and spindle laid with care,With skeins of cotton for his hands to bear;
A woman’s gown, a veil of golden thread,With heavy iron fetters forged in dread.
He chose a courier base in thought and pride,To bear those mocking tokens to his side.
He said, “Present these tokens to his sight,And let my words augment his shameful plight:
‘O faithless slave, you bound the Khan in spite,And in the fall of nobles found delight!
Now from your high command you shall be cast;The season of your prominence is past!’”
The envoy brought the gifts with all due speed,And spoke the message as the Shah decreed.
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In briefBahram takes the insult in silence, then puts the women’s clothes on, summons his nobles and asks what answer to give. They renounce the Shah and refuse to follow Bahram if he stays the Shah’s servant; Bahram only feigns to restrain them as they walk out.
When saw the gift the Shah had sent,He bore it silently, in discontent.
He thought, “Is this my recompense todayFor fighting in the Shah’s cause, far away?
This insult was not fashioned by the king;My foes have urged him to this shameful thing.
The Shah commands his subjects as he will;Though he disgrace me, I shall serve him still.
I never thought the spite of foes could steerThe royal judgment of a master’s ear.
Since I left court with but a slender train,All men have seen my hardship and my pain.
If such toil earns this garment of disgrace,Then heaven has withdrawn its former grace.
I will complain to God against the skyThat stripped its love from me and passed me by.”
He called upon the Judge who grants the good,Then took the shameful raiment where he stood.
In woman’s trailing red he sat arrayed,His haughty head beneath a veil displayed;
He took the distaff, and with bitter zestHe spun the raw white cotton to his breast!
He bade his veteran captains gather near,The twelve full thousand who had known no fear;
They thronged the tent, struck speechless and amazed,As on their , spinning thread, they gazed!
He said, “The Shah has sent this robe to me;This is his gift, as all of you can see.
The Shah commands; we are his loyal slaves,And love for him is what each true heart craves.
Now speak your minds, you chiefs before my face:What answer shall we give to this disgrace?”
They cried: “O peerless captain of the fight,Is this how royal crowns our toil requite?
If this vile shameful gown be your reward,Then dogs are worthier than Iran’s sword!
Recall the sage at , that ancient seer,Whose heart was filled with wrath at :
‘I turn from priest and Shah with bitter woeWhen he ignores the hardships that I know.’
How can you seek for honor from a manWho grants no honor to the loyal clan?”
He said: “No more! The Shah commands our blade;From him derives the honor we displayed.
We are his servants, pledged to do his will;Whatever gifts he grants, we serve him still.”
They cried: “We shall not bear his yoke again!No more shall rule as king of men;
Nor will we follow you, if you remainA cringing servant to a master vain!”
They poured in fury out upon the plain,While Bahram feigned to urge them to refrain.
🏇💪🌲🐎🦓👀🧭🌾🏛️✨👑👸💎🔮👑🪑🏇💪😮👥🍽️🎶🧠⏳🦓🧭🏡🤫😔29 emoji · the whole poem in emoji →
In briefHunting, Bahram follows a strange Gur-e-Khar to a splendid palace where a crowned lady seats him beside her and speaks with him in private. His men are feasted; he leaves shaken and transfigured, guided back by the same animal, and tells no one what happened.
Two weeks had passed; he left his palace, keenTo ride into the open fields of green.
Before him stood a forest thick with trees,A place for hunting, mirth, and pleasant ease.
A roamed there, an animal fair;No living eye had seen a form so rare.
He followed, holding back his horse’s pace,And would not overheat him in the chase.
Within the woods, a narrow pathway lay;The Gur-e-Khar then went down that narrow way.
When that proud Gur-e-Khar had crossed the lane,Beyond it opened meadowland and plain.
He followed through the heat across the land,His mouth as dry as dust upon the sand.
observed and rode until his sightBeheld a splendid palace, clear and bright.
The Gur-e-Khar led onward all the way; rode after him that day.
To him he gave his fleet steed’s reins and said,“May wisdom ever guard the path you tread.”
He passed the porch alone; no comrade wentBeside him. Izad watched outside, intent.
Behind them, swiftly came,Upon a warhorse, armed for deeds of fame.
Izad said, “Lion, enter now and learnWhere our chief passed and when he may return.
Our captain, strength of all our troops, is gone;Go seek him in the palace farther on.”
Yalan-sina went on with anxious heart,To find the chief and search each hidden part.
He saw a hall magnificent and wide,No equal known in all Iran beside.
Upon one side a cupola rose high,Its summit hidden in the distant sky.
Beneath it stood a throne of solid gold,Each foot with jewels splendid to behold.
Brocade from lay patterned on the throne,With gems set deep in gold that flashed and shone.
A crowned lady sat in sovereign grace,Tall as a cypress, springtime in her face.
Beside that throne another seat was set,Where Bahram sat, amazed at all he met.
Around them stood fair maidens, petal-cheeked,Like idols that the finest painters seek.
The lady spoke: “Why clouds upon your brow?The crown of kingship waits upon you now!
God grants to you the scepter of this land;The throne of s rests in your hand!
Gird up your loins, fulfill what fate decreed,Though fleeting is the glory of the deed!”
When Yalan-sina entered, she addressedA handmaid standing near in service dressed:
“Go tell that lion-hearted man,” she said,“He must not enter here; let him instead
Remain beside his comrades; tell him thenThat Bahram soon will be with him again.”
She bade her speak in Bahram’s name, and tellThe waiting man to leave, that all was well.
She sent her servants to his retinue,To bring the warriors’ horses safely through.
They led the mounts to stalls and gathered gear,And counted all the saddles lying near.
The gardener opened wide the garden gate,Obedient to the lady’s mandate.
A serving man came in with sprays,To tend the rite and speak the words of praise.
They spread within the garden such a feastThat wonder seized the greatest and the least.
When all the warriors had eaten bread,They stabled every charger in its shed.
When Bahram turned to leave, he blessed her reign:“May Jupiter beside your crown remain.”
She said, “May victory attend your way;Be patient, wise in counsel, day by day.”
When Bahram left that hall, dark visions spread;His brooding eyes were rimmed with tears of red:
Transformed in countenance, in thought, and speech,His soaring mind reached past all mortal reach!
Again the Gur-e-Khar appeared ahead;The chief pursued it where its pathway led.
Until he cleared the forest’s final side,The Gur-e-Khar still served him as a guide.
He then returned from hunting, homeward bound,Yet told the ranks no word of what was found.
asked what vision met his eyes;He gave no answer, lost in dark surmise.
He sought his palace, gloomy and withdrawn,And left the question there to linger on.
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In briefBahram holds court on an ivory throne, wearing Siavash’s crown. The chief scribe warns Kharrad, and the two flee Balkh by night. Horsemen bring the scribe back; Bahram, hearing that he fled in fear, pays him for his losses and returns him to his desk.
Next day, when dawn had silvered every height,And morning filled the world with golden light,
spread carpets of Chinese brocade,As if the vault of heaven were displayed.
Throughout the palace, golden seats were placed,With gold-embroidered cushions richly graced.
They reared an ivory throne within the hall,Where sat the captain, raised above them all;
He wore ’s crown of ancient gold,And held his court like sovereigns of old!
The chief scribe watched , and knewHis boldness, strength, and royal hunger grew.
He went and told what he had seen,Both sight and rumor, all that it could mean.
Kharrad, son of , was racked with pain,And saw that patient counsel had proved vain.
He whispered: “Noble scribe, heed this alarm;Do not despise this brewing cloud of harm!
Our king of kings has acted like a fool,And made the spindle-case his scornful tool.
He did not know this lion’s heart or mind,Nor what fierce temper in him lay confined.
We must keep silent here; at night we goBefore the Shah to tell him what we know.”
Convinced the general plotted for the reign,They marked his pride and saw his treason plain;
They weighed the danger, planned a secret flight,And slipped away from beneath the night.
The chief soon learned the two had fled away,Those prudent men who would no longer stay.
He said to bold , “Now ride;Take a full hundred horsemen at your side.
Pursue those fugitives upon their way;Ride swiftly after them without delay!”
Though Barzin’s crafty son outstripped the chase,The burdened scribe was halted in his race:
Yalan-sina assailed him where he turned,And seized him like a wolf as anger burned;
He bound his wrists in an unyielding chain,And dragged him back to Bahram’s court in pain.
He brought him there intending he should die,Though no just charge against the scribe could lie.
Bahram said, “You have done a foul ’s deed;Why flee without my leave at such great speed?”
The scribe replied: “Kharrad aroused my fear;He swore we could no longer linger here!
He warned that when the general claimed the throne,His wrath would crush the scribes who served his own.
He urged this flight!” Bahram replied: “Just so;A prudent soul anticipates each blow.”
He paid the scribe for everything he lost,And added gifts beyond the reckoned cost.
Then said, “Now tend your office and your pen,And never think of flight from here again.”
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In briefKharrad reports the palace and the crowned lady; the High Mobad reads the vision as a Div’s trap and blames the Shah’s insult for the loss of Iran’s trust. Bahram sends Hormizd twelve swords; the Shah returns them snapped, and Bahram’s troops curse his line.
, the son of , fled; his horseRan to the Shah’s court on a headlong course.
He told his news and held no matter back:The wood, the meadow, , and track.
He spoke of ’s stay, the narrow way,The palace shining in the field by day.
He told of jeweled throne and crowned queen,And slave-girls serving in that hidden scene.
He told the Shah whatever he had heard,And all he saw, concealing not a word.
The Shah received the tale with inward dread,And pondered what the High Mobad had said.
The omen-reader, too, had warned the throneThat Bahram would no more its lordship own.
At once he called the High Mobad inside;Kharrad remained there, seated at his side.
He said, “Relate your journey, clear and true;Tell every wonder that appeared to you.”
Kharrad obeyed and opened up the tale;He told it all, from palace-wall to vale.
The Shah then asked the priest, “What does this mean?We must discern the truth of what was seen.
The Gur-e-Khar that led him through the wood,The wilderness where that strange palace stood,
The crowned lady on the seat of gold,Her queenly slaves, a wonder to behold;
This tale resembles dreams from ancient lore,Or something shaped from stories told before.”
The High Mobad replied before his eyes:“That Gur-e-Khar was a in disguise.
It sought to draw Bahram away from right,And turn his heart to mutiny and spite.
That palace was a work of magic art;The crowned lady was a witch at heart.
She showed him crown and throne in royal state,To feed his pride and hasten on his fate.
He left her palace swollen high with pride;No gentle rein will turn his mind aside.
Already maddened by the distaff-case,A witch’s whispers deepen his disgrace!
It was not wise to send that woman’s dressTo one so proud, so prone to swift excess!
By this, Iran’s men have withdrawn their trust,Their hopes in you have fallen into dust.
Devise some way your army to recallFrom to serve before your palace wall.”
The king repented what his anger chose:The cotton and the gaudy women’s clothes.
He asked Kharrad, “What do the soldiers sayOf that crowned lady seen upon the way?”
Kharrad replied, “The army knows her name:They call her Bahram’s Luck and praise her fame.
They say she sat upon the throne, well dressed,Her beauty radiant, her heart at rest.”
The king grew fearful of the coming ill,And what revolving fortune might fulfill.
Then Bahram sent an envoy to the throne,With twelve broad blades of watered steel, well known:
Sharp, venom-tempered swords of deadly light,A challenge to the monarch and his might.
beheld that grim, defiant load,And fury through his royal bosom glowed:
He bade smiths take their sledgehammers and smite,Till each snapped blade was broken in their sight!
He packed the shattered steel to send away,With words of bitter malice and dismay.
When Bahram viewed the fragments in the field,Those blades destroyed, too fractured now to wield,
His wayward spirit filled with darker thought;He called the chiefs to view what had been brought.
“Behold the king’s gift; do not count it small:It says our force is worthless, one and all.
It means no warrior here shall keep his head;He marks us all for ruin with the dead.”
The troops considered both the royal deedAnd words their chief had spoken, taking heed.
They said, “First came, to heap on us disgrace,A distaff and a robe to shame our race.
Now broken s come, a darker sign,Worse than hard blows or words across the line.
May such a Shah no longer hold the throne;May all reject him and his name disown.
If Bahram, child of ’s blood, againShould ride to court to serve this Shah of men,
May neither brain nor bone of him remain,Nor seed of all his lineage on the plain!”
He heard them, marked how royal wrongs oppressedTheir grieving hearts, and then the chiefs addressed:
“Stay watchful, clear of mind; Kharrad has shownOur hidden matters to the royal throne.
Let each devise how best to live this day;Renew your pledge to me without delay.
Let someone from the troops arise to standAgainst our foes and guard this threatened band.
Else darkness falls upon my life and power,The army slack of belt in battle’s hour.”
He chose a new course, vigilant and clear,And tried his troops, whose hearts were filled with fear.
They ranged across the breadth of his domain,To seize the Shah’s dispatches on the plain.
No royal letter reached Iranian hands,So none would arm to heed the Shah’s commands.
A week passed thus; no man throughout the landCould read a letter from the monarch’s hand.
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In briefBahram lays his case before his chiefs, who answer in riddles and proverbs. His sister Gurdiyeh breaks in and argues from precedent that no subject has ever taken the crown. The council praises her; Bahram, unmoved, calls for wine and for Esfandiyar’s Seven Stages.
then summoned all his chiefs,To voice his secret thoughts and inward griefs.
was there; beside him cameThe ancient scribe, a counselor of fame;
, renowned in many a fight,With valiant , proved in martial might.
That Bahram sprang from ’s seed,A warrior known for many a valiant deed.
was there, a prudent guide;With these Bahram took counsel at his side.
They all were lions, men of spear and blade;Before those restless chiefs his case he laid.
“O famous chiefs whose counsel men require,Whose words can kindle judgment into fire,
The Shah is angry with us without cause,And turns away from justice and its laws.
What will you do? What remedy remains?No profit rises now from former pains.
Who hides his anguish from the healer’s artWill bear a wound that festers in the heart.
Small troubles swell beyond a man’s commandWhen kept from those who truly understand.
I have my private griefs, and I will tellThe sages where my wounds and sorrows dwell.
You know these matters; you have seen the field,And can bear witness to the truths revealed.
By order of the Shah we left our land,With few troops facing one vast hostile band.
Though one might live long years beneath the sky,No greater foe would ever meet his eye.
Had Turk and King ledTheir troops against Iran, with banners spread,
Our land would then have melted like soft waxBefore the weight of their combined attacks.
And then, when Iran’s royal lands were won,They would have marched on beneath the sun.
Parmudeh and King Saveh then were shownA marvel no one in the world had known.
We bore great toil, and when the field was done,Left them no elephants, no treasure, none.
The Shah has heaped his coffers, and he hoardsThe wealth we won in battle with our swords.
Yet now he scorns the troops in bitter spite,Though all we did restored his royal right.
The work that saved his crown was ours alone;No toil of his made that high seat his own.
Amid this turmoil, what can now be doneTo free my heart from grief beneath the sun?
You too must seek a path that brings release;What remedy can guard your lives and peace?
I have laid bare my heart and freed my soul;Now speak of good or ill and state the whole.
If any means are known to mind or hand,Speak plainly now, and help your captain stand.”
Behind the chamber veil, concealed from eyes,There dwelt his sister, prudent, brave, and wise:
Fair , endowed with noble grace,Whom Bahram cherished for her mind and face.
When from behind the veil she heard his speech,Her anger flared beyond the bounds of reach.
She joined the council, tears upon her cheek,Her tongue like arrows, sharpened now to speak.
Her cheeks were gold with grief, her heart distressed;Old words and grievances weighed on her breast.
Her brother, when he heard her voice, grew still;No answer rose against her forceful will.
The Iranians, too, were silent in that place,For fear of harm was written on each face.
Then Gurdiyeh addressed the warrior train:“Illustrious men, why hold your tongues in chain?
You seek for guidance, yet your lips are sealed;Why must your anger still be kept concealed?
You are Iran’s great chieftains, brave and wise,The foremost lords beneath the turning skies.
What do you see within this bloody game?What course can save your honor and your name?”
, the , replied:“O living memory of the brave, our guide,
If every tongue of ours became a sword,It would fall back before the words you poured.
God made you learned, brave of heart, and wise;Your counsel lifts our judgment to the skies.
We need not fight like leopards with the world,Nor rush where every spear and lance is hurled.
No one should seek my counsel from this day;My wisdom has no further word to say.
If you will fight, I too will lend my hand,And meet their horsemen firmly where they stand.
If I have pleased the Pahlevan, may youthBe his forever, safe from time’s harsh tooth.”
Bahram perceived that Izad would not choose,But sought a course where neither side could lose.
He turned to bold Yalan-sina and said,“What thoughts now move beneath your warrior head?”
He answered, “Chief, the walker in God’s wayWins fame and wisdom, clear as break of day.
He gains his wish and victory through grace,But must not rush toward evil or disgrace.
For evil turns a blessing to a curse,And circling heaven may answer with worse.
God gave you grace and fortune, might full-grown,With wealth and power no rival could have known.
If you give thanks, your gifts He will increase;Through thanklessness the heart will lose its peace.”
Bahram then turned to Bahram, wise in thought,His prudent friend, whose counsel had been sought.
“What say you of this quest for wealth and state?Will royal greatness come, or grief await?”
He laughed to hear them weigh so grave a thing,Then tossed into the air his signet-ring:
“As long as this gold ring remains in air,So long a subject may the diadem wear!”
The captain frowned: “You make the crown too small;It is no trivial honor, once for all!”
Then Bahram bade bold Kanda Gashasp bareHis mind: “O lion, sword in hand, declare:
What do you see and say of our affair?Do we deserve the royal throne to share?”
That Pahlevan replied, “O living lightOf heroes famed for courage in the fight,
A Mobad once at declared this thing:‘To reign a moment as a mighty king,
Then let the soul to heaven take its flight,Is better than long years of servile plight,
And waiting, needy, at the royal doorTo beg the sovereign’s treasure evermore.’”
Then to the chief scribe Bahram turned his face:“Old wolf, now speak your counsel in this place.”
The chief scribe sat awhile and held his peace,Amid a crowd of thoughts that would not cease.
Then said, “Who rightly seeks his heart’s desireMay gain the very thing he would acquire.
Time’s arm is long; with all that God has willed,A man may see his striving’s aim fulfilled.”
The chieftain turned to Hamdan Gashasp then:“You know how Fortune lifts and humbles men;
Whatever you shall utter in our hallWill be as wind and do no hurt at all.
Advise us in this test of good and ill,While Fate advances toward its hidden will.”
Great Hamdan answered, “Prized among the great,Why fear an evil not yet born of fate?
Why ask so much concerning crown and reign?Act first, and leave the rest to God’s domain.
Why reach to pluck the date with such alarmIf fear of thorns already binds your arm?
The leader of a people finds no rest;His mind knows fear; care weighs upon his breast.”
The captain’s sister writhed at what they said,And clouds of grief and anger filled her head.
Yet in that long debate she spoke no word,From sun’s decline till midnight’s hush was heard.
Then Bahram asked, “Fair lady, make it clear:What judgment have you drawn from all you hear?”
But Gurdiyeh answered nothing in that hour;His counsel seemed to her a poisoned flower.
Then to the chief scribe she directed speech:“O harmful man, old wolf beyond all reach,
So you conceive the crown and royal seat,Ranks, wealth, and Fortune’s force beneath one’s feet,
Were never sought by nobles, wise and great?Do you think service harder than the state?
If ruling seems the easier in your eyes,Your wisdom warrants tears, not our surprise.
Let us recall the precedents of kings,And hear what ancient, nobler counsel brings.”
The chief scribe answered, “If my counsel failsThen follow yours wherever it prevails.
Speak, act, and do whatever art may guide;Follow your heart and let that heart decide.”
Then to self-willed Bahram his sister turned;Her words were sharp; within, her sorrow burned.
“Your knowledge and your counsel are not good;Your steps now lead through treachery’s dark wood.
Full many times the Shah’s throne has been bare,Yet no great chief looked on that seat to share.
Their task was guarding earth by valor’s hand,Not taking seats they were not born to command.
They knew that kingship was the higher place,And better than subjection and disgrace.
They did not aim at throne or crown’s embrace;They armed themselves to serve with loyal grace.
They sought their sovereigns’ welfare, heart and hand,And served with truth the masters of the land.
No stranger to the royal line should reign;By noble birth a man that height may gain.
First hear the tale of noble Shah ,Whose troubled will let reckless longing loose.
He sought to probe God’s mysteries on high,To count the stars and walk across the sky.
But through perverse desire and reckless pride,At he was shamed and cast aside.
Yet old and , battle-wise,Did not seize throne or let rebellion rise.
And later, when Kavus went far away,To , where in chains he lay,
No loyal Iranian sought to seize the crown;They showed but grief, and laid their sorrow down.
When Iranians told Rostam, ‘You are fitTo claim the golden throne and sit on it,’
He rounded on the speaker, fierce and grim:‘May the cold grave be all that waits for him.
Shall I sit crowned on gold while Shahs are bound?Let kingship perish, buried underground.
Let crown and throne be ruined root and stem,Before I shame my lord by claiming them.’
He chose twelve thousand horsemen at command,World-conquering riders from Iran’s broad land.
Their steeds in , an iron wave,And freed Kavus, with and the brave.
With them Gudarz was freed from captive night,And honor filled Iran with renewed light.
Then when was slain and hope was lost,And all Iran had reckoned up the cost,
While , emboldened by their plight,Sat calmly on the throne in royal might,
There came , of ’s noble line,To raise the throne again by clear design.
When his success was plain before the land,The nobles came to hail his royal hand.
They wished to make him monarch of the earth,Though but a subject, proven high in worth.
He told them, ‘Such a deed would bring disgrace;The crown belongs to those of royal race.
Although is young, the child will grow;The wolf must not be placed where lions go.
To crown a man who lacks the royal bloodWould drown his kin in shame as in a flood.’
When young Qobad reached manhood, fate grew grim;He saw Sofrye stood high in rank by him.
He had Sofrye, by wicked counsel, slain,The state’s strong pillar, guardian of the reign.
The army rose against Qobad that day,And set upon the throne to stay.
The people then put bold Qobad in chains,That horseman born to rule Iran’s domains.
They gave him to , that he might takeRevenge upon him for his father’s sake.
Rizmehr saw none more worthy of the crownThan royal-born Qobad, though then cast down.
He freed him so that he could press his claim,And rise again in kingship and in name.
No subject dared aspire to crown or throne,Though many had proud birth and worth well known.
When from the Turks the man called Saveh cameTo seek the crown and seal with royal aim,
The glorious Maker ordered that his headShould fall in Iran, and his pride be dead.
Why should a subject seek the royal throne,And covet all the kingdom for his own?
Yalan-sina spurs his horse, as though to say,‘I raise to kingship, winning fame this way,
Bahram Chubin, sprung from ’s line,And make my name through future ages shine.’
Wise , aged and glory-crowned,Found youth renewed when stood renowned.
All nobles of this realm uphold his reign;They serve his will through every hill and plain.
He has three hundred thousand at command,Famed horsemen, lances, swords, and spears in hand.
His bold men heed his will and keep their place,Yet he chose you by royal right and grace.
He raised your ancestors to noble height,And let them triumph over hostile might.
Will you repay his good with evil now?Know evil will return upon your brow.
Design no evil, brother; every wrongReturns upon the doer before long.
Make greed no lord above your heart and head,Or sages will withdraw the praise they spread.
Though I am young, a woman at your side,Still hear the wiser path my words provide.
Do not cast all your fathers’ deeds away;May you not rue these words some future day.”
The assembly marveled at her speech and mind;The chieftain bit his lip, with rage confined.
He knew her words were just and sought the right,A path of honor clear before his sight.
Yalan-sina answered, “Fair lady, ceaseTo vex the warriors’ counsel and their peace.
Hormizd will pass, and soon your brother’s handWill hold the throne and rule the royal land.
Since he is what he is in force and fame,Count him already king in deed and name.
If Hormizd claims the crown and royal gift,Why send the cotton and the distaff shift?
The Pahlevan, a lion fierce and strong,Makes earth itself quake as he strides along.
Had his good sword stayed sleeping in its sheath,The Shah and Iran had been ground beneath.
Iran itself had bowed to foreign tread,Yet he was sent a woman’s shift instead.
Shame on this faithless king! Speak so no moreOf Turk-born Hormizd and his hoarded store!
Five hundred years that line has held the throne,And claimed the world’s dominion for their own;
Now let the crown from ’s lineage pass,Whose fame has withered like the summer grass!
Think not of ; let his nameBe heard no more; it merits no acclaim.
The men most close to him within his courtWill serve your brother and his word support.
At Bahram’s word they will bind him in place,And heap upon his head that deep disgrace.”
Then Gurdiyeh said, “The spreads his snare;Destroy us not through boasting filled with air.
I see in you but wind and empty show;Our father served as frontier lord long ago.
At Rey he kept the frontier, not the crown;Why stir our kindred toward a false renown?
Your words will cast our labor all away,And bring our ruined house a darker day.
Base lackey, you would lead him into shame,And turn our peaceful days to strife and flame.”
She spoke and left in tears, estranged in heart;Her brother’s path and hers now lay apart.
The assembly praised that saintly woman’s art,The eloquence and sense she could impart.
They said, “Her words seem read from wisdom’s page;She outshines Jamasp, that renowned sage.”
But Bahram was displeased by what she said;Her warning circled darkly in his head.
In long reflection, fevered dreams had shownHim throned and crowned, the realm and power his own.
He said, “Through toil alone the bold may winThis fleeting world and seize its prize within.”
He bade them spread the board and pour the wine,And called for harp and minstrel-songs divine.
“Sing only Seven Stages; let it flow,And tell how struck his blow
Within the in days gone by.”They drank to Rey and raised its praises high.
“May Rey endure; may God cause it to yieldMore captains like yourself to rule the field.”
They scattered when the daylight ceased to shine,Their heads bewildered by the strength of wine.
🏇💪✍️📜📨👦👑🤝🕊️🎁💎👥💰🐎🗺️🏙️⚒️🪙👦👑👤🧭🛍️🏛️🪙👑😨27 emoji · the whole poem in emoji →
In briefBahram writes to the Khan seeking peace, empties his treasury among his troops, garrisons Khorasan, and rides from Balkh to Rey, where he founds a mint striking coins in Khosrow Parviz’s name and sends a merchant to spend them in Tisfoon.
When rising sun shot out its beams of gold,The sickly night withdrew its darkened fold.
, the mighty chief of war,Called for the chief scribe, as he had before.
They wrote the Khan a letter richly dressed,Perfumed and bright, with ’s skill impressed.
“I seek your pardon for the harm I brought;My heart is full of sighs and troubled thought.
From this day on, your marches I shall guard,And for your sake keep watch with due regard.
If kingship of the earth should come to me,Your younger brother I shall always be.
Wash vengeance from your heart; let hatred cease,And join Iran and Chin in lasting peace.
Do not keep former wrongs within your mind;God pardons slaves and leaves their faults behind.
All blessings on your judgment and your reign,Your honored place and far-renowned domain.”
He spoke much more; the envoy rode awayAs swift as wind, and hastened on his way.
The Khan received him, praised him at the court;He gave the letter, adding his report.
The Khan rejoiced, and further gifts bestowed,And wrote an answer for the homeward road.
He sent rich gifts to cheer his heart;Then Bahram turned to other schemes and art.
He threw his vaults wide open, and outpouredAmong his troops the riches of his hoard.
He gave them coins and steeds and slaves beside,While royal hopes swelled higher in his pride.
He chose a to take commandOf , and guard that borderland.
With and his charge, he setIn and troops to meet each threat.
On day, within the month of Dey,He left Balkh, deep in thought, and rode to .
He weighed the gains and losses in his mind,Then bade them build a mint as he designed.
They struck fresh dinars with inscription clear,And made Prince Khosrow’s royal name appear:
The portrait of the youth upon the face,Proclaiming him the ruler of the race!
He chose a merchant of discerning wit,Eloquent, shrewd, and for his purpose fit;
He gave him laden bags to bear awayTo ’s marts without the least delay:
“Spend all this gold on Roman silk,” he said,“And fine brocades with glittering figures spread;
Disperse the coins until they reach the throne,And let the Shah believe his realm outgrown!”
🏇💪✍️📜👑😠📨🪙👦👑👑👀😡👨👦💔👑🤫☠️🕵️👦⚠️🐎🏃⛰️🔥🛕👥🤝🛡️👑⛓️👨👦👦32 emoji · the whole poem in emoji →
In briefBahram’s letter renounces Hormizd and declares for Khosrow, hoping the father will kill the son. Hormizd, seeing letter and coins, orders Khosrow poisoned. Warned by a chamberlain, Khosrow flees to Azar Abadagan, where the frontier lords swear to him; Hormizd imprisons his kin.
chose a prudent man,Brave as , to carry out his plan.
He wrote a blustering letter, long and wide,Of ’s force and proud ’s pride.
He told how he and all his troops had fought,And of the royal gifts that war had brought.
He named the black spindle case and the shameThe woman’s coif had brought upon his name.
“You shall not see me, even in a dream;Pull back your fishing hook from out the stream.
When high-born takes the throne,I shall obey no order but his own.
I shall lay mountains low, make summits fall,Flood sands with foes like at his call.
Though young, his wisdom fits him well to rule;You show no more discernment than a fool.
I have accepted him as king of kings,And serve no other lord beneath heaven’s wings.”
He wished the king would put his son to death,Though innocent, and stop his royal breath.
He feared the prince, whose charm could draw men near,And set these words down for the Shah to hear.
He told the merchant, “When the Shah has seenThese coins, he will lament what they may mean.
Without his son to stand beside his throne,He will confront my onslaught on his own.
I shall cast deference aside and rendThe roots of till their line shall end.
God did not make the earth for them to reignAlone; their blessing must no more remain.”
The envoy rode with noblemen from ;To ’s royal court they made their way.
When took the letter in his hand,He paled to read what Bahram Chubin planned.
Then word of new-struck coinage reached his ear,And grief on grief increased his doubt and fear.
He writhed and turned suspicion on his son,And told what had been done.
“Khosrow Parviz has grown too bold,” he said;“He seeks revolt and raises high his head.
His name on newly minted coins is clear;Could he despise me more or show less fear?”
Ayin Gashasp replied, “Without you, sire,May field and horse elude his heart’s desire.
Your son Khosrow has wandered far astray;He has no right to act in such a way.”
Hormizd replied, “That upstart soon shall fall;He shall not see my blow approach at all.”
That lord replied, “While you are living, mayNo foe attain his wish or win the day.”
One night, in secret, they called one man near,And brought him close, the Shah’s command to hear.
The Shah said, “Khosrow must be put to death;Obey my order: take his final breath.”
He answered, “I shall drive love from my heart;Send me your poison; I shall play my part.
Some dark night, when he is drunk, I shall pourPoison in his wine; he will drink no more.
Far better thus to take his life,” he said,“Than stain my hands with blood that I have shed.”
The son, still unaware of what was planned,Sat glorious in his palace, cup in hand.
With charming idols and delightful wine,He passed his days, blind to the dark design.
Two days each week he rode out to the chase,A brave young horseman, full of charm and grace.
For God had willed that Khosrow’s crown should riseFor many years beyond the moonlit skies.
A chamberlain caught wind of that dark deed,And cast aside both sleep and every need.
He hurried to Khosrow and made it clear:The king was plotting murder out of fear.
He learned the plot and fled that very night;He left Tisfoon and vanished out of sight.
He saved his precious head and spurred his steedTo at great speed.
When tidings of his coming filled the air,The frontier lords rose up with loyal care.
They said, “Khosrow, aggrieved by royal spite,Has fled with only a few men in flight.”
They sought the well-loved prince along his road;From all the northern keeps the nobles flowed.
The border marshals gathered round and said:“The royal crown befits your youthful head!
The throne and helm are yours by right and grace;Iran and desert spearmen seek your face.
Whatever swordsmen, chiefs, and men you needWill gather at your call, each on his steed.
Your will lead the army. Fear no blow;Live great and glad, beloved by high and low.
At times we shall ride hunting through the land,Or we before shall stand,
And pray as all our fathers prayed of old,Before the fire whose rites we still uphold.
Though all Iran’s three hundred thousand rideTo cast you down, we stand upon your side.
Our lives we shall give for you on the field,And honor those whose lives become your shield.”
He said, “I fear the Shah and all his men;Give me your oath, and I shall trust you then.
Come first before Azargashasp and takeAn oath, and give a pledge you will not break.
Then I shall stay, assured of where you stand,And fear no within this land.”
The warriors, hearing him, all duly cameTo swear before Azargashasp’s bright flame.
They swore the oath he asked with solemn breath:“We prize your love and serve you to the death.”
Assured of all the chiefs, he, still awareOf peril, sent his spies out everywhere,
To learn what Hormizd said, and to reportWhat fresh designs were forming at his court.
When Hormizd heard that Khosrow Parviz fled,Revenge and fury filled his royal head.
He ordered and bound tight,Both uncles of the prince by mother’s right.
The prince’s other kin, apart from these,Were dragged to prison by the king’s decrees.
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In briefHormizd sends Ayin Gashasp against Bahram, with orders to sound him out first. A freed convict joins the army; a star-reader at Hamadan names him as the chief’s killer. Ayin Gashasp sends him to court carrying his own death warrant; the man reads it and beheads him.
Then to the Shah replied:“We lack sound counsel, with the wind allied.
Now that my son has fled, what shall we doWith , self-willed slave and rebel too?”
Ayin Gashasp then sought a fitting wayTo make his counsel pleasing on that day.
“Exalted Shah, Bahram has often saidThat most of all he longs to see me dead.
I first provoked his anger; send me bound,And some advantage may for you be found.”
The Shah replied, “I will not act that way;This is the course that would lay.
I will send forces under your command;Go forth to battle; show your fighting hand.
But first send one adviser from our sideTo learn what purpose in his heart may hide.
If crown and throne and power are his aim,Then Fortune will desert him and his claim.
But if he still will serve beneath my reign,A peaceful end will follow all his pain.
I shall give him a portion of the earth,And set a hero’s crown upon his worth.
The world has hardly such a warrior known,But, though like , he is still my own.
Report his conduct, every word and act;Make no delay; send back each certain fact.”
Ayin Gashasp obeyed the Shah’s command,And took the charge the monarch now had planned.
There was a captive held in royal chain,His fellow townsman, all consumed by pain.
He heard Ayin Gashasp would leave the court,And sent a messenger to seek support:
“O battle-loving chief, now hear my prayer;Your fellow townsman suffers in despair.
You know me, surely; ask the king for me,And let me join your force when I am free.
I shall march with you, fight before your eyes,And risk my life where battle’s dangers rise.”
Ayin Gashasp sent word before the throne,And made his plea for that poor captive known:
“A man from my own town is bound in chains,In fear and peril, crushed by all his pains.
He will march with me if you set him free,And grant this captive’s service now to me.”
The Shah replied, “What fighting can he do,This worthless wretch who seeks to ride with you?
You ask a thief and murderer to fight;What gain do you expect from such a blight?
Yet now I cannot turn aside your plea,Though none could be a greater scourge than he.”
He gave Ayin Gashasp that man of ill,That thief and murderer with a hardened will.
Ayin Gashasp brought out his whole array,And drove them like the wind along the way.
He reached , pitched his camp, and cried:“What learned star-readers in this place reside?”
They said, “Whoever reads the stars may hearYour summons, come, and earn your favor here.
There is an aged wealthy dame whose sightCan read the stars and bring their truths to light.
You might call her the eye of heaven’s sphere;What she foretells will prove both true and clear.”
Ayin Gashasp sent both a man and steedTo fetch the woman for his hidden need.
He asked what fate the Shah would have to bear,And how the army’s leader soon would fare.
Then said, “Bring close your lips beside my ear;Tell me what fate awaits my body here.
Will my soul leave my swarthy frame in bed,Or will a foeman’s weapon strike me dead?”
While thus he whispered secrets to the crone,So low that none could hear a single tone,
The man for whom he begged release passed through,Looked at the chief, then went beyond their view.
The ancient woman watched him disappear,Then asked, “Who is that man who just passed here?
His blow will bring you death, and men will weep;Your life is in his hands to take or keep.
May skin and marrow rot within that man;His hand will close the measure of your span.”
At this, Ayin Gashasp recalled the loreThat star-readers had told him once before.
He tried to put their warning from his mind:“A neighbor’s hand will kill you, you will find.”
“A worthless rogue will spill your blood,” they said,“Far on the road, despite the tears you shed.”
He wrote the Shah: “The rogue I asked you forIs dragon-spawn, unsuited for this war;
As soon as he presents this letter, slayThat serpent; strike his head from trunk away.”
He stamped the royal wax with secret care,Then called the youth with false and friendly air;
He praised him much and gave him gifts beside,With hearty blessings offered to his pride.
Then said, “Convey this letter with all speed,In secret, for the Shah himself to read.
Bring his reply to me without delay,And do not linger at the court or stay.”
The young man took the letter from his chief;His mind filled up with questions, doubt, and grief.
He said, “I have endured enough in chains,With prison, heavy bonds, and hungry pains.
God freed me from distress and evil fate,From grief and want inside that narrow gate.
Yet now, if I return to ’s walls,My blood and marrow boil at what befalls.”
He traveled sadly for a little way,Then broke the seal and read what it would say.
He marveled at the world’s strange turning round,And at the treachery within it found.
“My neighbor saved my life, and used to preachThat noble men should act as he would teach.
Why does he now insist upon my blood,Unless some dream has stirred this evil flood?
Now he shall see the road to bloodshed plain,And rest from toil, endeavor, fear, and pain.”
He turned and sped back like the driven blast,With death and anger in his heart held fast.
He reached the camp; no helper could be found.The chief sat in his tent, with none around.
No aide was there, no scimitar or steed;He brooded on the Shah and Fortune’s deed.
When that freed neighbor stepped inside the tent,Ayin Gashasp knew what his purpose meant.
The murderer drew his scimitar to fight;The chief implored him, shaken at the sight.
“Deluded one, did I not beg your life,And free you from your chains and prison strife?”
The other said, “Granted. What have I doneThat you should seek my death beneath the sun?”
He struck the noble captain’s head away;His feasts and battles ended on that day.
He bore the bloody head out from the tent;No soldier knew the captain’s life was spent.
Let him who seeks for honor never standAlone in wartime, far from every hand.
The miscreant left the murdered chief behind,And sped to Bahram, death upon his mind.
“See your foe’s head,” he cried, “the man who cameTo harm you, unaware of your true aim.”
“Who is this? Whose head lies here?” Bahram said;“Who mourns this now he is dead?”
He said, “Ayin Gashasp, who left the courtTo lead the army as the Shah’s support.”
Bahram replied, “The Shah sent him to meTo make our peace, that righteous man you see.
You took his head by stealth; now you shall pay,And all will weep to see your final day.”
He had a gallows raised beside his gate,And hanged the wretch alive to meet his fate.
The sight made wicked men recoil in dread;Ayin Gashasp’s whole force in panic fled!
Bereft of leader, all their ranks were rent:A faction rode to Bahram’s rebel tent;
A portion fled to Khosrow’s camp in fear;While some to Tisfoon brought the tidings clear.
Like sheep that lack a shepherd’s watchful care,They scattered wide before the winter air.
👑📨👤💀😢🚫🏛️👥🗣️👑🏇💪⚠️👦👑⚠️👴👴⛓️💰🔑🏃🪖👥📣🏰🔥👑🪑⬇️👑🚫👁️🔥🪡👁️💔37 emoji · the whole poem in emoji →
In briefThe Shah shuts himself away, and rumor empties his court. Bandvi and Gostaham break out of prison, raise the city and lead troops to the palace; the crowd curses a king who sought his own son’s blood. They pull Hormizd from the throne and burn out his eyes.
When news arrived that his great chief was dead,The Shah closed court and bowed his grieving head.
No man saw him lift wine to ease his grief;He neither ate nor slept, nor found relief.
His eyes were full of tears, his heart was wrung;And how he shunned them passed from tongue to tongue.
One said, “ now seeks the fight,And longs to seize the throne and royal right.”
One said, “The Shah has stirred his son to wrath;Now Khosrow’s troops take the Iranian path.”
The warriors were confounded by the case;Each held a different counsel in that place.
As rumors spread throughout , his fameAnd royal credit withered with his name.
His servants’ hearts were filled with grief and wrath,And curses, not their blessings, marked his path.
Few troops remained beside the palace gate;The Shah’s heart felt the world’s constricting weight.
Then word reached , with near,That royal had darkened, once so clear.
The captive uncles bribed the prison guard,And burst the heavy doors they kept so barred;
When word went round that royal kin were free,The palace garrison renounced decree:
Bandvi and Gostaham appeared in force,In gleaming , each on an armored horse;
Along the royal thoroughfares they sped,While clamor through the capital was spread.
They passed through market streets with troops in train,And reached the royal court to end his reign.
Then Gostaham addressed the gathered band:“This matter is no trifle; understand.
If you would join us, cast respect away;Let no regard for make you stay.
Take vengeance for the guiltless chiefs he slew,And pious men, whose blood cries out to you.
Let all who prize their faith and judgment soundNo longer call him Shah or serve him crowned:
Turn Iran’s water bitter as the gallOf colocynth, until his glory fall!
We lead the vanguard; let our oath be knownTo raise a righteous sovereign to the throne!
But if you show your weakness and delay,We leave Iran to you and go our way.
One corner of the world will meet our need,And there with all our comrades we shall speed.”
The throng, at Gostaham’s words, condemned his reign;Their curses swelled into a fierce refrain:
“Down with the king who seeks his own son’s blood!”And rage swept through the army like a flood.
The troops then set the palace gates aflame,And through the royal halls in fury came.
They reached the Shah and stripped his royal headOf crown and farr; all deference had fled.
They hurled him headlong from his royal seat,And cast him down before his rebels’ feet:
A glowing bodkin pierced both eyes outright;The white-hot needle quenched their shining light!
They left him blind, in darkness to remain,Cast down forever from imperial reign.
Such are the turns of heaven’s transient stage:Grief follows joy, and winter follows age;
We taste the sweet, then swallow pain and dread,Till earth becomes a pillow for the head.
Though here you reign a hundred years or more,Death waits to reap you at the palace door!
If you would guard your soul from shame and ill,Do good, and let your heart follow justice still.
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In briefA courier rides to the shrine of Azargashasp with news of the coup. Khosrow grieves, disclaims all joy in it, and marches from Barda, Ardabil and Armenia toward the capital, which welcomes him and sets up an ivory throne, while he thinks of his father in despair.
Then and sent one nightA courier with two steeds to speed his flight.
To ’s shrine he rode to bringThe news from Iran to the youthful king.
He came when one night of the month had passed,And told of ’s turmoil, first to last.
The young prince paled like fenugreek in flower,And spoke beneath the grief of that dark hour:
“Whoever leaves the road that wisdom lays,And follows impulse down benighted ways,
Who does not fear high heaven’s turning wheelWill reap no lasting good from all his zeal.
If this ill news has filled me with delight,May food and sleep be burned in fire outright.
But when my father sought my death, I fled,Nor could I stay within Iran for dread,
Yet still I am his slave in heart and deed,And still obey his every word and need.”
With seared heart, he set out without delay;Like fire, he and his troops sped on their way.
From and from he ledTroop after troop along the road ahead.
From high horsemen rode besideThe prince, like desert whirlwinds on their ride.
When Tisfoon learned that Khosrow sought the crownAnd now approached the people of the town,
The city felt its ancient fears depart;With shouts of joy they hailed him in their heart.
The nobles reared an ivory throne on high,With torques and royal crowns to meet the eye;
Yet while the cheering throngs made glad the air,The prince thought of his father in despair.
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In briefA short prelude on the turning heavens: one man is crowned, another feeds the monsters of the sea; one goes bare and sleepless, another lies in silk and fur; both end in dust. The poet then takes up the thread of Khosrow’s life again.
From heaven’s vault that turns in ceaseless flight,What hope has man against its restless might?
One head receives the crown by Fate’s decree;Another feeds the monsters of the sea.
One wanders bare of head and bare of feet,Denied all rest, repose, or safe retreat;
Another, nursed in luxury, arrayedIn beaver pelts and shimmering brocade.
Yet both are caught within destruction’s net,And both lie down in dust when death is met.
Had wise men not been born, they would not knowSuch days of hardship, whether high or low.
Now let us take again the thread, and tellThe hearer what in Khosrow’s life befell.
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In briefKhosrow is crowned and jewels are showered on him. He tells the great men that the throne came by God’s grace, promises justice and peace, and binds his court by three pledges: not to harm the just, not to rebel, and not to covet other men’s goods.
When Khosrow sat upon the golden throne,Men came whose worth and skill were widely known.
They called the great men to the royal hall,And on the new crown let their jewels fall.
He told the Mobad, “Only those whom FateHas favored gain this crown and royal state.
May all my work be founded on the right,For rule without due justice weakens might.
Our will is peace with all beneath the sun;We seek no strife or war with anyone.
This throne, this fortune, rich and newly won,Are mine by grace of God, the Holy One.
Now give your hearts to follow my commands,And keep three pledges that my rule demands:
First, never harm the pious or the just;Next, never rise and break your sovereign’s trust.
Third, shun men’s goods: the smoke returns with painTo those who burn another’s heart for gain.
Now wash your hands of all such petty greed;Let righteousness direct your every deed.
Whatever dignifies mankind will findApproval in the wise and upright mind.
We bear no malice toward the loyal greatWho keep the laws and honors of the state;
Whoever joins pure virtue to high birthShall live in peace and dignity on earth.
Your welfare in our keeping rests secure;We shall not yield to ’s dark lure!”
All those who heard him blessed his crown and reign,And praised the Fortune he had come to gain.
They left rejoicing, loud in praises deep,While smiles of gladness through the court did sweep;
Yet when the cheering ceased and failed the light,Grief for his blinded father ruled the night.
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In briefKhosrow comes to the blinded Hormizd and weeps, offering his service. Hormizd asks three things: his son’s voice each morning, a warrior and a sage with the chronicles of kings for company, and the deaths of Bandvi and Gostaham. Khosrow grants the first two.
When ebony had vanished from the sky,And distant cockcrow rang its morning cry,
The young king came before his father’s place,With wounded heart and deeply troubled face.
He saw his sire and broke into lament,Then bowed before him, sorrow-worn and spent.
He lingered long before his father, dumbWith grief, then spoke of service yet to come:
“Ill-fated king, whose life preserves the nameOf and his royal fame,
Had I stood by you, none would dare to slipA needle’s point against your fingertip.
Command me now; your sorrow fills my heart,And makes it bleed to see you bear its smart.
I am your slave, if you command me so,To guard your head through every wound and blow.
I seek no throne, no crown, no armed array;Before your feet I lay my head this day.”
replied, “O prudent son and heir,This day of misery will fade to air.
Three things alone I ask, and nothing more:First, grant your presence, which I now implore;
Each morning, when the dawn unlocks the skies,Console my blinded hours with words I prize.
The second: send a sage to share my place,Well versed in lore of battles and the chase;
Let him bring ancient books of kings of old,To soothe my darkness with the tales they told.
The third: your mother’s brothers must no moreBehold the daylight on this earthly floor:
Slay and slay outright;Avenge the needle that destroyed my sight!”
Khosrow said: “King, may foes be swept away;Let none who does not mourn your lost eyes stay.
Though grief be held in secret in the heart,It is enough that he should feel its smart.
But weigh what strength may meet us in attack: has countless horsemen at his back.
He stands as champion, mighty in the fight,With armed battalions terrible in might.
If we lay hands on Gostaham today,And strike down Bandvi in our disarray,
Our army will disperse before our foes,And leave us naked to Bahram’s fierce blows!
Yet for a scribe well versed in ancient lore,To read the scrolls of kings and deeds of war,
And for a to sit beside,I pledge companions faithful, true, and tried.
Bear this dark lot until the tempest cease;Let patient wisdom guide your soul to peace.”
He spoke, then left in tears, his heart oppressed;He told no one the secret he possessed.
The son was gentler-hearted than the king;Hear what an ancient sage was heard to sing:
“A gentle youth whose words are sweet and kindExcels a monarch of unyielding mind.”
The man of virtue and the soul depravedAlike in earth’s cold bosom lie engraved.
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In briefBahram marches to Nahravan. Khosrow’s spies report a rebel who keeps royal state: audience, cheetah hunts, the book of Dimna. A Mobad lectures on the four shares of wisdom; Khosrow announces that he will ride out alone and offer peace before fighting. The armies camp across the water.
heard how Fortune struck that king,And what a ruin Fate had come to bring.
They branded both his eyes and quenched their light,Two garden-born narcissi plunged in night.
His son now sat upon his royal throne,His Fortune trampled, kingship overthrown.
Bahram was struck with wonder at the news;Distressed, he turned within himself to muse.
He bade them bear the s afield,And bear the mighty banner there, revealed.
He packed the baggage, called his men to horse,And girded for a clash with Khosrow’s force.
His army, like a moving mountain, pressedTo , with boldness in its breast.
When Khosrow heard, the news disturbed his mind;Such force and haste in Bahram were combined.
He sent out spies to mark the moving train,And learn what drove him onward to the plain.
“First learn if all his troops are one in aim,Or if delay may yet affect our claim.
Observe where in the army he will ride:The center, baggage train, or either side.
Observe how he holds court, and note his sport:Whether he hunts afield; then bring report.”
The spies went out, observed, and came again,To tell the Shah in private of those men.
They said, “His troops, from chief to youngest boy,All serve Bahram with one consenting joy.
Now, on the march, he rides the central ground,Now left or right, now where the packs are found.
He shares his secrets with his people; theyHave no need to seek strangers on their way.
He sits in audience as monarchs do,And rides into the fields to hunt there too.
He hunts with cheetahs, as the kings have done;In zeal, few riders match this tireless one.
He speaks of battles fought by kings of old,And reads the tales in ’s book retold.”
Then Khosrow told his minister with sighs,“A long and heavy task before us lies.
When Bahram charges at the hostile line,He breaks the hearts of dragons in the brine.
He learned the royal customs from the Shah,The ways that make men hold a king in awe.
, Dimna; both advise his mind;No scribe with sharper counsel could he find.”
Then Khosrow said to and his kin,To , “Our trials now begin.”
When , ; ’s lord;And , , came in accord,
Those shrewd chiefs met in secret with the king,All seasoned men, well versed in warfare’s sting.
He said, “O mighty warriors, hear my plea:When wisdom shines, it lights what men can see.
Then knowledge is the that we wear,Which nothing but death’s sword can pierce or tear.
Against that sword a steel helm turns to wax;No mortal arm can parry its attacks.
In years I am the youngest of you here;I will not let youth’s judgment rule my sphere.
Instruct me what to do and how to stand;What cure can heal the wounds that grip the land?”
A Mobad said, “May life be yours, and light;May minds find sustenance in your clear sight.
Since first the world’s deep mysteries were known,Four shares of wisdom have to men been shown.
One share belongs to kings, for in their raceBoth and wisdom rightly hold their place.
Another share the pious may possess;The third serves those who near the monarch press.
For wisdom will not hide from those who standIn service near the ruler of the land.
The ’s portion is a meager dole;Of all this wisdom, little fills his soul.
The thankless have no wisdom to their name,Nor those who fail to know God’s holy claim.
If now the king will heed the sage’s word,And fix his mind on everything he heard,
He soon will eat the fruit that wisdom brings,When counsel settles in the hearts of kings.”
The Shah replied, “Were I to write in goldThese words, their luster never would grow old.
The Mobad’s words are jewels, clear and bright;Yet I have other thoughts to bring to light.
When our two armies meet in war’s array,And spearheads rise to Gemini that day,
Alone I shall ride from the center line,And call to Bahram; shame shall not be mine.
Before both sides I shall show peace and grace,And praise him openly before his face.
If he accepts, so much the better; whoAt court could serve as well as he could do?
But if he seeks for battle, I will fight,And range my troops against his hostile might.”
All leaders praised the scheme the young Shah planned;The great applauded him on every hand.
They hailed him king of earth, and all replied,“May Fortune’s ills be turned from you aside.
May victory, grace, majesty, and crownBe yours, O king of kings of high renown.”
He answered, “May it be. Enough. May weFrom rout and separation all be free.”
He led his army out from ’s plain,And pitched the royal pavilions of his train.
As both great armies neared the battleground,The air re-echoed with a martial sound.
The world’s bright lamp sank down, its light withdrawn,And night shook out its tresses till the dawn.
Scouts came from both the armies, watchful-eyed,To guard their troops against the other side.
When night, scared by the sword of day, had fled,Dry-lipped and trembling from the morning red,
The tymbals sounded loudly from each camp,And Sol led war forth with his fiery lamp.
The Shah bade Bandvi, Gostaham prepare;They put on iron helms for war to wear.
The Shah rode with those chiefs toward the flowOf Nahravan, to meet his marching foe.
A scout rode up to Bahram and he said,“A force lies two bowshots from us ahead.”
On hearing this, he moved his troops to fight,And called the veterans to his side outright.
He rode a piebald charger, nobly bred,With musk-black tail and proud, uplifted head.
Its hoofs were bronze; his Indian blade flashed bright,Its stroke like lightning bursting through the night.
He drove the horse like lightning through the plain; rode leftward in his train.
and rode,Their hearts intent on strife along the road.
Three Turks, descended from the Khan, now sworeTo ease the burden that his army bore:
“If we should see the Shah ride out alone,Away from all the troops he calls his own,
Seized or slain, he shall be yours; your men shall restFrom every trouble by which they are pressed.”
Khosrow held the near bank, Bahram the far,While Nahravan flowed on, a liquid bar.
Both armies watched the two across the flow,To see how Bahram would approach his foe.
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In briefAcross the Nahravan the king and the rebel abuse and argue with each other at length. Khosrow offers him command of Iran; Bahram offers a gibbet. They dispute whether kingship comes by blood, merit or conquest, trading precedents from Ardeshir to Rostam, until Khosrow laughs and turns back.
and Khosrow met; the king showed cheer,The other’s face was grim as he drew near.
The young Shah rode an ivory-gray in pride,With gold and rubies crowned, his chiefs beside.
His robe from Chin was gold brocade in light,A blaze of kingship in the army’s sight.
advanced before him as his guide,With and , both allied.
among them now drew near,A golden helmet flashing bright and clear.
In iron, silver, gold, the chiefs rode by;Their gems and golden girdles caught the eye.
Bahram grew pale with fury at the scene,And spoke before his chiefs in tones of spleen:
“This low-born wretch, this miscreant of shame,Has risen now to manhood, power, and name.
The down is scarcely written on his face,Yet he assumes the royal crown and place.
Now, like , he would seize the throne,And make the and diadem his own.
He takes the style of kings with brazen breath,But soon this world will close on him in death.
This dark-souled bastard leads his troops in pride,With ’s fortune at his side.
Search through his troops and see if any manCould face my sword or match me if he can.
I see no single warrior in that massWho could confront me while one breath might pass.
Now he shall see the work that men can do,The steeds, the swords, the gorzes striking through.
Clubs strike, and arrows rain down from the sky;Once more the heroes raise their battle cry.
When I advance, the elephants give way;The mountains crumble at my voice that day.
The lion flees before my battle yell;Upon the sea my blade shall cast a spell.
The desert I shall fill with blood,” he said,Then spurred his piebald charger on ahead.
As though a flew, the charger sped;The army watched, astonished, where he led.
He chose a narrow stretch on which to fight,And rode to in Khosrow’s sight.
With him rode several men of Iran’s force,All bent on war with Khosrow in their course.
Khosrow said, “Noble chiefs, make known to meWhich man is Bahram, that my eyes may see.”
Gordvi replied: “O king, observe the steed,That piebald courser of impetuous breed;
The rider clothed in white, with baldric black,Who surveys the field from that charger’s back:
That is Bahram!” The Shah replied in scorn:“That swarthy giant, withered, battle-worn,
Who flaunts his piebald with such haughty show?”Gordvi replied: “He comes to work you woe.”
Then Khosrow said, “Ask him whose back is bowed;His answer will be coarse, his manner loud.
His pig-like nose and sleepy eyes revealThe anger that his heart cannot conceal.
An enemy of God stands in that place;I see no sign of service in his face.
No man, I think, can rule his stubborn head,Or change the path his greedy heart would tread.”
To Gostaham and Bandvi then he spoke:“A proverb suits this man who spurns the yoke:
If to the load the ass will not draw near,Then bring the heavy load beside him here.
If some bold foul fooled Bahram’s sight,How should he see the way of God and right?
For hearts that ache with greed are never stayedBy all the counsels sages have conveyed.
Bahram wants war; no justice guides his mind.We must weigh all the outcomes we may find.
Who knows which force shall triumph when they meet,Which side shall rise, which side endure defeat?
His troops stand well-arrayed and battle-bound;Their chief would prove what strength in him is found.
Bahram is grim, a Div who leads the band,With wolf-like fighters gathered at command.
With your consent, lest shame should cling to me,I first will offer peace for all to see.
To greet him first is better than to showA weakness when in battle with the foe.
If he replies in fairness and restraint,His recent wrongs may yet be cleansed of taint.
I will bestow some corner of the earth,And win his thanks by bounty and by worth.
Our war and field endeavors then may cease;This gain is ours if battle turns to peace.
When kings can bargain wisely and succeed,The pious joy in such a prudent deed.”
Then Gostaham replied, “O king, live long;Your speech is strewn with gems of wisdom strong.
Do what you will; your justice lights the way,While that slave’s heart is wind and dust today.”
Then Khosrow rode before his gathered troops,And raised his voice across the hostile groups.
He called to Bahram, seeking to be heard,And sent across the ranks a peaceful word:
“Illustrious man, how do you fare today,Here on the field where troops stand in array?
You are the court’s own jewel, bright and rare,The throne’s strong wealth, the army’s prop and care.
You are a lamp that brightens every feast,And when war rises, valor is released.
You are ambitious, brave, and serve God’s light;May God preserve your name in every fight.
I have weighed all your case, and I intendTo welcome you with honor as a friend.
I will receive you and your ranks with song,And glad my heart will be to see you strong.
I shall appoint you chief throughout Iran,And place you first among each .
For you I shall make prayer to God Most High,That Fortune keeps your glory near the sky.”
When brave Bahram heard Khosrow’s courteous call,He checked his black-tailed piebald before all.
He saluted from the saddle, paused in pride,Then answered sharply from the other side:
“I stand at ease, in Fortune blithe and high;May greatness never lift you to the sky.
You have no grasp of kingship or its right,Nor what is justice in the world’s clear sight.
’ king would rise to rule the land,With only luckless men to lend a hand.
I have considered you and shaped a snare,A noose well-twisted for your neck to bear.
I will erect a lofty gibbet soon,And hang you under sun and watching moon.
Your hands shall be made fast within the coil,And Fortune’s bitterness shall be your spoil.”
When Khosrow heard, his cheeks grew pale and wan;He knew Bahram would press the battle on.
He knew he would not quit the crown and throne,Nor cast away the claim he called his own.
He answered, “Ingrate, good men do not speakSuch words to guests who come their peace to seek.
When guests arrive from far before your gate,Do you revile them at the feast in hate?
Such conduct is no custom among kings,Nor Pahlevans from whom true honor springs.
No Iranian or Arab, I say,Has treated guests in such a shameful way.
The wise would blush to hear such words from you;Do not embrace ingratitude as true.
When guests salute you with a gracious face,Only a Div’s dark heart returns disgrace.
I fear ill days await your road and reign,For all your counsels wander into pain.
Your remedy is in that King’s commandWho lives forever, ruling sea and land.
Yet in His name you sin and show disgrace,With fear at heart and shame upon your face.
You call me Alanons’ king, yet you knowMy lineage: why then abase me so?
Am I unfit to wear the crown and reign,With Anooshirvan’s blood within each vein?
, my father, wore the royal sign;Whom do you know more worthy in this line?”
Bahram replied, “Mad wretch in word and deed,Hear now the answer that your follies breed.
You speak of guests; your tale is old and worn,Your nature evil from the day you were born.
You are no sage, no Pahlevan to fear,No man whose worth commands a soldier’s ear.
You ruled Alanons, seated on their throne;A slave of slaves has rank above your own.
You are a worthless evildoer, base,No Shah or chief that mighty men would face.
But men bless me as Shah. I will not letYour foot on earth remain where mine is set.
When I called you ill-starred, a mean disgrace,Unfit to govern any royal place,
I said it, worthless Shah; may crown and stateBe never yours by Fortune, will, or fate.
Iran’s men are your foes in heart and hand;They will uproot your power from the land.
They will tear skin and veins and leave your bonesFor dogs to gnaw beside the broken stones.”
Khosrow replied, “Knave, why so fierce and proud?Foul speech disgraces men before the crowd.
From first to last your nature has been clear;Sound wisdom never found a lodging here.
Blessed is the man who nurtures wisdom’s light;A Div always talks when death comes in sight.
I would not see a Pahlevan like youDestroyed by wrath and all the harm you do.
I beg you, banish anger from your heart;Do not let wrath consume your better part.
Remember God, the just Possessor’s name,And found your wisdom on His righteous claim.
A height before you towers, stark and wide,More vast than great ’s own mountainside.
If from your stock a king should ever rise,The barren thorn would fruit before men’s eyes.
Your heart is full of dreams of royal power;We shall see what God wills in His good hour.
Who taught you such an Ahrimanic creed,And trained your nature for this evil deed?
The one who counsels you and draws you nearIs plotting death with whispers in your ear.”
He spoke, dismounted from his ivory-gray,And took his costly crown off there to pray.
He turned toward the sun with grievous cries,And placed his hope in God who rules the skies.
“O glorious Judge, who brings hope’s tree to fruit,You know who wrongs Your slave with proud dispute.
You know how shame now stains the royal crown,And how this rebel seeks to pull it down.
If royalty must leave our ancient race,I will not strive to hold the royal place.
I will become a servant in the Fire,And live on herbs and milk with no desire.
I shall not hoard up coin of any kind,But wear coarse wool, to holy rites resigned.
Yet if the crown by God is meant as mine,I will serve You with justice as my sign.
Grant victory to my army in this fight;Keep crown and throne beyond that wretch’s might.
If I prevail, this crown and steed shall goTo , where the fires glow.
These armlets, earrings, torque, and robe, which shineWith gold and gems, I too shall give that shrine.
Upon the lapis dome I shall let streamTen bags of dinars, yellow in their gleam.
When I return, the worshippers shall thenHave a hundred thousand silver coins again.
A city by injustice overthrown,Where wild beasts roam, I shall rebuild in stone.
Where thorns grow, lions and wild asses stray;I shall send treasure, driving want away.
Bahram’s men whom we capture shall be madeTo serve the sacred Fire with ready aid.
The and Hirbads I shall please,And set their troubled hearts once more at ease.”
He rose, a wronged man, with the truth for shield,And turned from worship back to face the field.
Swift as a dust-cloud from his place of prayer,He called to Bahram through the battle air:
“You hellish, Div-hearted slave of rage,Remote from wisdom, grace, and every sage,
Some rabid Div, tyrannous and strong,Has blinded you and urged your heart to wrong.
Instead of wisdom, vengeance rules your breast;The Divs’ praise is what you love the best.
A thorn-choked plain seems like a town to you,And hell itself a garden fresh and new.
The lamp of wisdom in your brain is dead,And luster from your mind and heart has fled.
Deceitful magic has misled your sight;It shows a downfall in the promised height.
Today you set your hand upon a shoot,With leaves of poison and with bitter fruit.
Your stock has never reached for such a prize,Nor is such grasping honored in men’s eyes.
God has denied you royal and grace;No diadem befits your subject race!
Have you forgotten , ’s son,Whose treacherous folly left his name undone?
Can river crabs contest the falcon’s flight?Can ravens soar above the solar height?
By holy God, by crown and royal throne,If I should meet you troopless, on your own,
And blow a chilling blast against your face,You would not stand before my kingly place.
I have heard harsh words from you, one by one,And lean on Him by whom the day is won.
If I am not fit for the kingly name,May I not live in servitude and shame.”
Bahram replied, “Possessed and witless fool,You never prized your father’s royal rule.
Your sire, the Shah, upheld the sacred creed,Wronged none and followed justice in each deed.
You flung him vilely from his royal seat,And now would set the world beneath your feet.
You would be wise and vigilant? Your stainMakes you God’s foe, with evil all your gain.
Even if Hormizd had been harsh and wrong,And earth and time against him raised their song,
It was not fit for you, his son, to reignBy sin, in Iran or Turan’s domain.
You merit neither life nor throne nor room;Far from good Fortune, you deserve a tomb.
For Hormizd I shall take revenge in fight;In Iran now the crown is mine by right.
Now make this clear to me: what upright manApproved the blinding of the royal clan?
Who said that you might sear the eyes of Shahs,Or bid another do that deed for cause?
From Sun to Fish’s back, accept this sign:The crown and royal power now are mine.”
Khosrow replied, “May I not live to knowA joy that springs from my own father’s woe.
What had been written came; what had to beHas come to pass beneath God’s own decree.
How long will empty boasts exalt your name,While you before your troops the kingship claim?
A shroud will not be yours when death draws near,Yet you proclaim yourself a monarch here.
With others’ horses, barding not your own,You play at kingship, far below the throne.
You have no house, no homeland, birth, or sign;You are a windbag king with borrowed shine.
With such false title and such empty wares,You will not mount the throne of royal heirs.
Brave men before you, with their gorzes great,Were servants, not pretenders to the state.
As lieges, they forbore the sovereign seat,And laid no claim to rule beneath their feet.
But you grow rabid, all restraint denied,And make your shame a thing you cannot hide.
God founded kingship on a threefold claim:On justice, merit, and ancestral name.
He gives it to the worthiest, the wise,To those from whom the least of harms arise.
My father gave Alanons’ realm to me,Made angry with me by your treachery.
And now God has bestowed on me the crown,The throne and greatness, by His will sent down.
I hold them from the Master of the skies,Who sees all deeds beneath His watchful eyes.
With Hormizd’s leave I took the royal place;He held the crown inherited through race.
I hold them from the priests and sages’ word,The mighty chiefs whose judgment has been heard.
I hold them by the Faith that broughtFrom Paradise, with wisdom nobly taught.
He gave the word of God in light,And took and held that teaching bright.
All those who wronged me in this troubled hour,And those whose wealth has come into my power,
Are under my protection, foe or friend;My care shall guard them firmly to the end.
Their wives and children, too, shall know my care;I shall call all men pious everywhere.
The destitute in ruined towns shall findWealth at my hand, and leave their grief behind.
Outcast or kin, I will uphold their right,And make their ruined dwellings whole and bright.
Like Paradise, the bramble fields shall growBeneath wide skies, where men and cattle go.
I shall leave goodness in the world, a nameThat lives beyond my death in lasting fame.
Come, let our hearts be scales to weigh the right,And let our arms be strengthened for the fight.
When Shah Hormizd made justice his first choice,Both earth and time had reason to rejoice.
The son should keep the crown his father wore,The throne, the girdle, Fortune, as before.
But you, sly man of treachery and spite,First raised your hand against Hormizd in fight.
No evil came except by your command,Your spells, your plotting, and your treacherous hand.
If God shall will, in the wronged monarch’s name,I will dim light where your war-banners flame.
Now who deserves the crown? If not I, who?What other man can claim it as his due?”
Bahram replied, “The man who takes your crownIs worthy of the throne and its renown.
When ’s daughter bore the royal heir,The held sway everywhere.
Did not strike dead,And set the crown by force upon his head?
Five hundred years of ’s rule are spent,And cold now grow the heads of that descent.
Now comes my day for diadem and throne;The power and work are mine; the task my own.
Conquering Fortune stands allied with me;The crown is mine by Heaven’s own decree.
When I behold your troops, your face, your crown,My lion-hearted wrath will strike them down.
I will abolish all s’ fame,And scrape from every roll the Sasan name.
Their head and crown together I will tread;Their Fortune too shall lie among the dead.
Great power rightly to the Ashkanians falls,If wisdom heeds what lineage recalls.”
Khosrow replied, “If rule should leave our line,Who are you to declare, ‘That rule is mine’?
What place have you among that royal breed?What claim can spring from your ambitious seed?
What are the folk of but double-faced,Their manhood weak, their counsel all debased?
From Rey a little force joined in the fightWith and ’s great legions’ might.
They seized the throne; from them great evil came,Which God the Maker would condemn to shame.
From Rey came , vile heart, foul deed,Who darkened ’s royal seed.
The Iranians girded, each resolved to gainRevenge for all the evil and the pain.
The Judge who gives support crowned Ardeshir,And made his Fortune blaze across the sphere.
He was most worthy of the royal crown,Though lacking wealth, his worth won high renown.
Those heroes’ names have passed; their day is gone,And all our words are wind that wanders on.
Now who deserves the rule and lordly seatWithin this shifting world beneath our feet?”
Bahram replied, “I am the fighting manWho shall uproot the whole clan.”
Then Khosrow answered, “You have heard the sawThat teaches noble order, rule, and law:
Do not entrust the gear of royal stateTo mean or wayward men who harbor hate.
You cannot get it back when you demand;Its power has made him drunk who holds command.
My father, rash, ill-counseled, could not knowWhat lay concealed beneath the outward show.
With worthy nobles ranged on either flank,He set the thankless one above each rank.
What did the sweet-voiced sage once say of men?Do not uplift the thankless one again.
To raise up fickle men brings toil and pain;Avoid the thankless, or your hopes are vain.
You once were brave, high-aiming, keen in fight,But nature’s flaw has dimmed your inner light.
My father placed you first among the great;You stood above the chiefs in royal state.
But favor and the silver throne’s bright snareHave made you drunk, beyond all prudent care.
Chubin is now Bahram in name and fame;That silver throne has trapped you in your claim.
You sit upon it, longing for the moon;A would be a monarch soon.
No sage has ever held such speech as this;I do know you consort with the Div’s kiss.”
Bahram replied, “Evil man, you knowReviling is the only skill you show.
You heed no covenant, justice, law, or right,And seek a state beyond your rank and might.
You blinded Hormizd; how can such a deedBe hidden from the world or cleansed by creed?
Your friends are yours in word, but mine in heart;They wear your colors while from you they part.
The Khan is my ally, and with him standThe armies drawn from Chin at my command.
I rule with justice, sword held in my hand;No enemy can wrest from me my land.
From to Rey I shall transfer the crown,And cast the Kayanian glory down.
I shall restore the customs Milad knew,And make the ancient laws of Rey come true.
I spring from famed , and in the fightI am a fire no man can quench by might.
I am great Gorgin’s grandson, and I claimThe blazing force of ’s sacred flame.
King meant Iran to lose its crown,Its throne and signet trampled, broken down.
He meant to raze the temples, and erase and from their honored place.
The Iranians would have all been enslaved,Had I not risen and my people saved.
If you would know how many marched that day,Four hundred thousand formed his vast array.
Twelve hundred elephants of war he led;The earth beneath their weight bowed low in dread.
That vast array fled from my lion’s cry,Their broken ranks like dust beneath the sky.
No man devoid of deeds and proven mightWould seek the throne or claim the royal right.
My helmet bears the promise of the crown;My sword shall win the ivory throne’s renown.
If but a gnat should war with you in pride,It would unseat you, sweeping you aside.”
Khosrow replied, “Recall Gorgin of Rey:What royal throne or Fortune marked his day?
No throne or majesty to him was shown;He had no state, and he was scarcely known.
Your name was hidden; you were poor and small,Until reached the Shah’s hall.
He told the monarch of your youth and name,And raised you from the dust to public fame.
The king supplied you treasure, arms, and men,And ’s moon-bright banner rose again.
God did not will the Turks from Chin to spoilIran, or crush the lives upon its soil.
He helped you in that fight; your helmet roseToward clouds because God humbled all your foes.
The Great King’s Fortune brought success that day;You claimed the merit and were led astray.
If kingship leaves the Kayanian line,Why should you strive to hasten its decline?
It takes the force of Iskandar’s own handTo darken kingship over all the land.
May you, with the Div face and dusty head,Attain to nothing but a ditch when dead.
Your wayward conduct dimmed my father’s days;You coined my name to end my life through praise.
You are the source of evil; blood you spillWill hang you in the next world for that ill.
You will not find in sleep throughout the nightWhat all day long you hunt beneath the light.
O luckless, unjust man, give not your daysTo crookedness, nor walk such ruined ways.
Do not bring such disgrace upon your head,Nor live unjust, miserable, misled.
Seek God’s good favor; let your labor showThat wisdom guides your steps where you may go.
For what is mine and yours will pass and fade;Time counts each breath until the debt is paid.
Who says, when guile has clothed your heart in night,That guile is better than the path of right?
Obey, and have your wishes: you shall shareA portion of this realm beneath my care.
Then in this world you will know peace and rest,And leave it, calm of heart, at death’s behest.
Zardosht has spoken in the Zand; his loreWe may not lessen, nor may we add more.
Zardosht has said: who leaves the holy roadHas lost all awe of God, all inward goad.
Counsel him for a year; if counsel fails,Then death by royal order next prevails.
Cast out his guilty corpse upon the way;Slay rebels to the Shah without delay.
Men will shed your blood, for a twisted fateDemands this payment from your rebel state.
A wretched life awaits, and fire’s embrace,If still you turn from Shah and God’s own grace.
You ail, and counsel is the drug you need;I strive to heal your envy and your greed.
If envy rules, another healer’s artI shall bring here to cure your ailing heart.
Your healer, counsel; wisdom is the cureThat may remove the crown’s deceitful lure.
Your victories made you someone in the state,But thoughts of treasure opened ruin’s gate.
Have you heard how ’s impious reignMade Divs and warlocks fill the world with pain?
When noble hearts could bear his rule no more,What did Fereydoon do? Recall that lore.
Your troops, alive or dead, are mine by right;Through you they gained some honor in the fight.
When I display my treasure to the band,Their hearts will soften at my open hand.
Your men, grown rich when Saveh met defeat,Thought no new foe could force them to retreat.
I would not have Iran’s great warriors slain,Nor bring defeat and ruin on my reign.
Tell me, in Arash’s days, who held the land?”“,” said Bahram, “held command.”
Khosrow replied, “You know he ruled the world,While Arash served where royal flags were furled.
So Rostam learned from , and knewThe ways of kings, their throne and customs too.
He kept the customs of the kings; his eyeNever sought their throne or station high.”
Bahram replied: “You shepherd-born disgrace,Sprung from a herdsman of ignoble race!
Did Babak not bid Sasan take his crook,To tend his ewes beside the mountain brook?”
Khosrow replied: “Falsehood procures no crown;Such slanders drag your warrior honor down!
You spring from crooked roots; yet Sasan’s breadEnriched your house and raised your father’s head!”
Bahram retorted: “Though your words be bold,A shepherd’s crook was Sasan’s lot of old!”
Khosrow said: “When King breathed his last,To noble Sasan was the kingship passed!
Though Fortune waned, the royal seed remained;By lies no sovereign title is attained!
With such blind judgment, would you govern men?”He laughed in scorn, and turned his rein again.
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In briefA Turk’s kamand takes Khosrow’s crown before Gostaham cuts the rope; Bahram, furious that his parley was broken, withdraws. Gurdiyeh presses him again with fables and the example of Sahm. Khosrow plans a night attack, tells too many men, and is talked out of it.
The three Turks of the Khan’s own lineage sworeTo win a name upon the field of war.
One horseman, fierce and reckless, forward came;Like wolves, the three were bent on martial fame.
“We shall, upon the battle day,” they said,“Bring you the Shah, whether alive or dead.”
That horseman rushed forth, grim and seeking fight,His wound in sixty coils held tight.
He neared the Shah’s bright ivory-colored steed,And aimed at crown and head, kamand half-freed.
He cast his sixty-coiled kamand in flight,And snared the royal crown in all men’s sight!
Quick unsheathed his blade to tearThe rawhide loops, and cut the deadly snare;
While loosed a shaft of whistling fire,To pierce the treacherous raider in his ire.
cried, “May dust conceal your head,And may the earth alone become your bed.
Who bade you strike the Shah before my eyes?I stood in parley under open skies.”
Distressed in soul and body, he withdrew,And back toward camp his troubled spirit flew.
His sister heard of his return that day,And cast her splendid crown and pomp away.
An aide brought forth her veil; with wounded heart,She ran to meet him, shaken in each part.
“O warlike chief,” she said, “now plainly say:How fared your meeting with the Shah today?
If in his youth he burns too hot and fast,Relax no effort till you make peace last.”
Brave Bahram answered, “He has no true claimTo stand among the kings or bear their name.
He is no sage, no of might,Nor generous, nor fearsome, nor yet bright.
In kings, true merit counts for more than birth;A king must have those gifts that prove his worth.”
His sister said, “O shrewd, ambitious chief,My words will stir your anger, not belief.
Recall the sage of , who wisely said:‘The truth tastes bitter when our faults are read.’
Do not destroy your country. You possessYour share of earth; do not pursue excess.
A wise man said: ‘An ass once tried to donAn ox’s horns; and both his ears were gone.’
Do not invite the world to cast you down;No ancestor of yours has worn the crown.
Had not this youth laid claim to kingly power,I would not grieve through each benighted hour.
His father lives; the royal line remains,Yet you stretch out your hand toward crown and reins.
How this will end I do not understand;All night my eyes shed blood; my grief is fanned.
Your aim is pain; your path is cursed and wrong;You breathe a poisoned flower all day long.
Chubin, your name, will bear the stain of shame,And scorn shall cling forever to your name.
God will be angry, and your soul shall dwellIn darkness, driven by rebellion to Hell.
Consider who first sought you out and raisedYour hidden worth, and had your service praised.
Was it not King who gave you place,And lifted you to honor, rank, and grace?
But since King ’s goods and throne were won,You have assumed the crown beneath the sun.
Through Hormizd’s trust your name became renowned,Yet now your heart is set on being crowned.
Know every blessing comes from God above;Repay your Shah with loyalty and love.
Do not presume upon the fields you won;Take honor humbly for the deeds well done.
You have gained fame; do not let pride command,Or give to your heart and hand.
When Hormizd raved in anger and in pain,And stirred his rage and bane,
You should have borne it patiently; your placeAs servant gave no right to war’s disgrace.
When Hormizd suffered, and his son, who burnedFor vengeance, now from had returned,
You should have sought the youthful monarch’s court,And graced his throne with homage and support.
He then would have accepted your advice,And spared you evil days and their steep price.
You would have known peace, triumph, and delight;Why aim at crown and throne through wrongful fight?
You know that princes still survive and shine,From ’s old stock and royal line.
The princes still remain with wealth and force;Who in Iran would sanction such a course?
If any king with troops and treasure’s storeCould eye this land and force its guarded door,
It would have been King Saveh, prince of Chin,Who marched against Iran, his hatred keen.
But God set you against him in the fight,And saved Iran and all its chiefs from blight.
Since God first vaulted heaven’s dome on high,No noble like has passed beneath the sky:
No raging lion faced his iron brand,Nor dared against his to make a stand;
Yet when King governed in disgrace,And broke the ancient customs of his race,
Iran’s grandees offered Sahm the royal throne,To make the turquoise diadem his own.
He cried: ‘Forbid that I should dare to reachFor sovereign rank, or prompt such lawless speech!
My throne: the dust where now lies;The throne of Nohzar is the crown I prize.’
I tell you this, my brother: none may gainThe throne unless good Fortune aids his reign.
He must be generous, of royal line,And in his bearing kingly must shine.
He must be wise, with justice for his guide,And hold a heart enlightened deep inside.
I do not know what Fate will bring on you;Wisdom has vanished from your heart and view.”
Bahram replied, “I own the truth you tell,And holy God has marked the matter well.
But matters now have passed beyond recall;Distress now holds my heart and mind in thrall.
I must gain power or bow my head and feelThe death that pierces through a helm of steel.”
The youthful king, rejoicing to the core,Recrossed the bridge to the shore.
He called the captains of the army near,And ranged them by his throne to speak and hear.
He said, “Good-hearted chiefs, experienced, wise,My reign is new and needs your searching eyes.
I must be tested; none yet owes me praise,Though I know kindness shown in others’ ways.
No good from me has reached you to this day,And now fresh toil and war obstruct your way.
You served my ancestors; you long have knownThe harsh and bitter things the world has shown.
I will reveal the purpose I conceal,But guard it well; let no one break the seal.
If published to the troops, my scheme will fail;Let silence stand around it like a veil.
Tonight I mean to lead our force to war,For I have parleyed with that man before.
Bahram is active, skillful, bold afield,A horseman who will fight and never yield.
Yet little wisdom could I see or findIn him or in his chiefs of matching mind.
His fight with Saveh is his only tale;He tells it over, though the tale is stale.
He thinks me foolish, young, and full of fear,And hopes his sword and gorz will daunt me here.
He does not know I shall attack by night,And drive out fear by meeting him in fight.
If you will share this battle’s risk with me,Once night is dark, no more delay shall be.
When night with ambergris has washed her face,And shakes her musk-sweet hair across this place,
Mount armed with gorz and scimitar in hand,And strike with me against the hostile band.”
They all agreed to follow his command,And each one pledged, with sword and heart, to stand.
When he returned, he cleared his tent of all,And let no stranger linger by the wall.
He called for Gostaham and Bandvi then,And , seasoned chief of fighting men.
He told them of his planned attack by night,And hoped that they would aid him in the fight.
Then Gostaham replied, “O king, beware;Why place such faith in battle’s hidden snare?
A night assault may alienate your own;Your troops and his are kinsmen, closely known.
Grandfather here, and grandson there, they stand;Their hearts are bound together, hand to hand.
What art could change their minds? Their ties are dear:A brother there, a father standing here.
How shall the father fight his son? Take care:Do not fulfill the wish your foes would share.
This was no matter for the troops to know;Your words have ruined all and laid us low.”
Gordvi said, “Our plan is lost from sight;Your words have cast it to the winds tonight.
Power, desire, wealth, armies in arrayCan turn even a prudent man astray.
Do not remain here while the plain is dark,Nor leave your troops and treasure as a mark.
I have no doubt our secret is now known;The other camp has heard what we have shown.
Do not expose your head to hostile might;Preserve the throne and turn from rash delight.”
Pleased with their counsel, Khosrow gave assent,And chose devoted chiefs of firm intent.
came at the monarch’s call,With lion-like Gostaham among them all.
, , Bandvi, proved in field,With fierce , the hero-scorching shield;
These loyal captains drew their swords to keepThe youthful Shah, a watch that knew no sleep:
Upon a grassy knoll they set their tent,To watch the plain until the night was spent.
The Shah surveyed his army from the height;Bahram sat down with men of rank and might.
When all the chiefs drew near, Bahram began:“What news have you of kinsman, friend, and clan?
Send word to all your kinsmen, one in mindAnd faith with you; if they should be inclined
To come, obey, and pledge their lives, then allTheir strength shall answer to our army’s call.
He has but Barda, , and thoseArmenian troops to face us as our foes.
We fear them not when battle’s fury wakes;For Barda’s men are dust the whirlwind takes.”
The chieftains heard Bahram’s proposed design,And chose a scribe from men within their line.
Eloquent, wise, with memory keen and clear,He took the secret charge he came to hear.
Throughout the long dark night he made his way,And told Iran’s chiefs what he came to say.
He gave the message; they replied, “UntilThe armies meet, we stand by Khosrow still.
We fear this matter may be long and grim;He plans a night attack; do not trust him.”
The envoy heard and wheeled, swift as a gust;He raced to Pahlevan Bahram through dust.
In private, word for word, the man made clearIran’s full answer, meant for Bahram’s ear.
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In briefBahram strikes first at cockcrow with six thousand swordsmen. Khosrow watches the slaughter from a hill, charges the three Turks, and is deserted. He sends the treasure over the bridge, fights Bahram, shoots two horses from under their riders, then breaks the bridge and rides for Tisfoon.
When learned the troops inclined his way,He ordered fires to keep the dark at bay.
In every quarter watchfires blazed and spread;Then Bahram marked the fiercest men he led.
Six thousand swordsmen, chosen for their might,The scribes had counted, ready for the fight.
He cried, “When s at cockcrow sound,Raise battle-shouts that shake the solid ground.
Charge in, and let your battle-shouts resound;With blood let all the noble heads be crowned.”
Led by three Turks, the troops rushed to the fight,And fell upon the king’s troops in the night.
A din of and club and sword arose;Earth turned to iron; dust obscured the foes.
The soldiers cried, “Where is Khosrow the king?Today our victory shall make earth ring.”
Khosrow stood on the hill in bitter pain,His eyes like blood, his cheeks a lapis stain.
Bewildered by the battle’s fearful turn,He pondered what to do with deep concern.
Until the shafts of dawn began to rise,The slaughter weighed upon his heart and eyes.
But when dark night had drawn its skirt away,He saw the dead and wounded where they lay.
He told his chiefs, “Now help me. Strike the foe;Let all your strength and loyal courage show.
For God the Victor is my help and stay;My task is striking with the sword today.”
He charged straight at the three proud Turks in wrath,Three wolves of blood that barred his battle path.
One closed with him and raised his glittering blade,And at the royal crown a fierce stroke made.
The royal rider caught it on his shield,Then struck and hurled the Turk upon the field.
“Famed fighters, stand a little longer here!”He cried to all the warriors standing near.
Yet all his troops turned back and fled the fight,And left the prince alone in sorry plight.
He said to and bold ,“I read ill omens in what now I see.
I have no grown son fit to take command,Nor kin to wear the crown of Iran’s land.
If I am slain in battle’s storm today,The world will have no king to guide its way.”
Bandvi replied, “O noble prince, ride on;Do not remain, for all your troops have gone.
Let all the world still yearn for you; take flight;No man remains to guard your royal right.”
Then Khosrow said to , “Hasten now;Take with you, loyal to his vow.
Secure the tents, the treasure, and brocade,The crown, the slaves, the money bags displayed.
Lead out a thousand horsemen; bring awayThe ivory throne and what you find today.”
The nobles labored hard to load the train,And bear the treasure from the battle plain.
Then rose a dragon-banner in the fight;The world turned violet before its sight.
Behind that flag rode Bahram, fierce and proud,Who dimmed the world’s bright luster like a cloud.
Then Khosrow met him, fighting hard and long,Two fierce war-lions, terrible and strong.
Like elephants of war, with fury red,They struck their blows at one another’s head.
Bahram wheeled lion-like around the field;His weapons failed to force the king to yield.
The sun passed through the dome; upon the ground,Their struggle raged beyond all measure’s bound.
Then Tukhar came: “The treasure and the trainHave crossed the bridge; none on this side remain.”
The monarch said to Gostaham, “No friendRemains to help us see this warfare end.
We are but ten; their army fills the land,Led by a of high command.
If only some would help me in the fray,I would not turn my head and ride away.
Timely retreat is better than to fight;Alone, we must withdraw from hostile might.”
The youthful king then reached the bridge in pain,Pursued by Bahram, vengeance in his brain.
Khosrow beheld him, stopped, and called his guide,The seasoned Gostaham, to stand by his side.
“Bring me my bow,” he cried, “whose tongue shall tellMy words in battle, where it serves me well.”
The treasurer brought the bow at his command;For Gostaham directed what was planned.
The Shah poured arrows forth, and darkness spread;One shaft would stitch a helmet to a head.
Then Bahram charged with raised on high,A dragon under him against the sky.
His horse was bare of armor in the fight;The king turned back and saw him with delight.
He strung his bow and struck the charger’s chest;The wounded horse collapsed and lay at rest.
The , on foot, then raised his shield;He grasped his head, distressed upon the field.
Then charged; the king, in scorn,Shot at the horse by which the chief was borne.
On foot he left the bridge, his charger lame;The troops withdrew along the way they came.
When Bahram drew away from bridge and fight,Khosrow destroyed the bridge and took to flight.
He sped to , full of grief and fears,His heart in pain, his eyes with bloody tears.
He barred the city gates with iron tight,And sat with anxious thoughts of all their plight.
He summoned all his chiefs, from ward and post,And manned the gates where danger threatened most.
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In briefKhosrow tells the blinded Hormizd of his defeat and proposes Arab allies; Hormizd sends him to Rum and the Caesar’s kinship instead. As Bahram’s dragon banner appears, Khosrow rides for Rum; Bandvi and Gostaham turn back, strangle Hormizd with a bowstring, and rejoin him.
Then heart-transfixed, with blood-red tears, he cameBefore his sire in sorrow, grief, and shame.
He paid his father homage, grieving then,And lingered long before he spoke again.
“The mighty horseman, the you chose,Came like a king whose royal splendor glows.
He came with and with a mighty force;He spurned my counsel and pursued his course.
He cared for nothing but the clash of war;May no such name be honored evermore.
Against my will we fought a bitter fray,And many suffered under Fate that day.
My troops all left me then, and would not stay;They scorned me like a stranger on the way.
They hailed as king, nor gave a thoughtTo all the perils with which this was fraught.
His mountain-moving troops pursued my flightTo ’s great bridge with all their might.
When hope of holding out had failed, I fled,And slipped the net of ruin round me spread.
As I now weigh the profit and the cost,Arabs alone can win back what is lost.
If you command, I shall bring Arab steeds,And countless horsemen for our battle needs.”
replied, “This plan will bring no gain;Your footing is too weak for such a strain.
To go to them is toil; their tents are bareOf wealth for you, of arms against despair.
The Arabs will not help where no rewardOr treasure waits to draw them to your sword.
For payment they may hand you to your foes,And leave you helpless in your bitter woes.
Yet God will aid you; Fortune’s face may turn,And smiling farr beside your banner burn.
If you would quit this land and elsewhere roam,Depart at once; in seek safer home.
Tell all this helpless servant’s plea;Repeat my words to him as words from me.
There wealth abounds, with Christian troops prepared,Great legions armed, no gold or iron spared;
For Caesar springs from noble of old,Whom enriched with crowns of gold:
That ancient stock will recognize your claim,And shield an allied prince in honor’s name!”
Then Khosrow kissed the earth and gave due praiseTo God, who governs all men’s nights and days.
To , , and thenHe said, “We dwell with toil and grief again.
Prepare at once; pack up and take the road,And leave our land beneath the rebel’s goad.”
Just then the watchman cried, “O just Shah, hear!Dark dust has risen on the roadway near.
A dragon on the army’s flag is shown;Like that at Nahravan, by Bahram flown.”
mounted like smoke in flight,His blue flag streamed behind him in their sight.
He fled like dust for Rum; then, looking back,He saw the two ride slowly on his track.
He shouted, hot with anger, “Shameless two!Why lag so slow with foemen close in view?
Have those pursuers now become your friends?Why lag while danger on our backs descends?”
Bandvi replied, “O king, take no alarm;He will not see our dust or do us harm.
The army’s great banner is far away;Our friends have weighed this flight, and this they say:
This flight will fail. Bahram will come and bringThe crown again to Hormizd as the king.
He then will take the minister’s place besideThe Shah, and serve with counsel as his guide.
From Hormizd he will write to Caesar thus:‘A worthless slave has fled in fear from us.
Grant him no refuge under Rum’s high dome;Let him not rest in peace or make a home.
Each time he rose, our troubles would increase;His crooked dealings robbed us of our peace.
When he arrives, put him in iron chain,And turn his gladness into grief and pain.
Return him swiftly to this royal court,Before his fortunes gather new support.’
They then will bind him and return him fast,A guarded captive, weeping and aghast.”
Khosrow heard this with troubled heart and mind,His cheek grew dark; he answered them resigned:
“Ill Fortune may indeed treat us this way;Long words and grievous work are ours today.
Let us trust God.” He urged his steed and said,“Whatever good or evil lies ahead
Must come as God has written on our brow;No anxious thought can turn it from us now.
May we not need an enemy in flight,Nor seek his help to save us from our plight.”
When Khosrow rode ahead, the uncles turned,While in their breasts a ruthless hatred burned:
They sought the darkened chamber of the king,And from a war-bow loosed the braided string;
They cast the hempen cord around his head,And choked his royal breath until he lay dead!
Without a wound to spill imperial blood,They quenched his spirit in a silent flood.
His throne and crown had vanished with his breath;As though he had not lived, he passed in death.
Such is the turning world: its fruits may growNow sweet, now poisonous, bringing bitter woe.
Seek no sure profit from a stock like this;Its quest brings pain, not certainty or bliss.
When Hormizd’s life was ended, spent and flown,The throne and crown were left to stand alone.
Tabiras boomed; pale with fear, the killers eyedBahram’s approaching flag, his troops beside.
Bandvi and Gostaham fled from the place,And reached Khosrow with fear upon each face.
He saw their pallor, knew their secret well,And why they had turned back; no need to tell.
His face grew yellow as the fenugreekIn flower; yet he did not choose to speak.
He hid his knowledge from the pair, and showedNo sign, but bade them shun the way men rode:
“The army presses close; take the long roadThrough wilderness, and bear all hardship’s load.”
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In briefBahram sends six thousand horsemen after the king. Khosrow rests at a Christian shrine on unleavened bread, watercress and date wine; when the pursuers appear, Bandvi puts on the royal robes, shows himself on the roof as the king, and buys a day’s delay while Khosrow escapes.
When entered in the royal hall,He chose fierce troops obedient to his call.
Six thousand men who swung the curving blade,All mailed for the pursuit and war arrayed.
He gave those troops to ’s son,Bahram, to chase the king till flight was done.
And Khosrow crossed the wilds in desperate pain,To keep his life across that barren plain.
At last he reached a shrine of towering height,Its lofty battlements were lost to sight.
“The House of God,” the people called that place,A blessed shrine of penitence and grace.
There Christian clergy made their dwelling nearThe penitents who sought seclusion here.
The king asked of a priest, “What have you storedOf food within this house to spread the board?”
A bishop said, “Unleavened loaves we keep,And watercress, if hunger cuts you deep.
If such plain fare will suit your need today,May it sustain you kindly on your way.”
The king dismounted with his weary train,And turned to prayer to ease his inward pain.
With his two courtiers, twigs in hand,He prayed, then sat upon the yielding sand.
They ate in haste of what the place could give,That grief might let these weary men still live.
Then Khosrow said, “Blessed elder, tell me plain:Have you no wine to ease the heart of pain?”
The bishop said, “We make clear wine from dates;But little now remains within our gates.
Like rosewater it shines, both pure and bright,And red as garnet in the shining light.”
He brought a cup whose color struck the eye,And dimmed the hue of Sol within the sky.
Khosrow drank three, then barley-bread he ate,While grief and wine contended with his fate.
When ruddy wine had warmed his weary head,He slept where soft sand made his troubled bed.
His head lay on ’s lap in trust,His soul grief-pierced, his fortune turned to dust.
Just as he slept, the bishop, old and wise,Came near and spoke of what had met his eyes.
“Black clouds of dust have risen on the way;Behind them comes an armed and vast array.”
Khosrow replied, “Our fortune now is grim;Both men and horses fail in every limb.
Our foes have found us when our strength is done;The day of helplessness has now begun.”
Then loyal Bandvi, friend in need, replied:“That chief draws near, with armed men at his side.”
Khosrow said, “Good friend, guide us through this hour;Show us a way beyond the foeman’s power.”
Bandvi replied, “I know what course to take,Though death may be the payment for your sake.
In this hard strait I give my life away,To save the monarch of the world today.”
Khosrow replied, “A sage of Chin once saidThat loyal service lifts the faithful head.
Who sows his service at a monarch’s gateShall reap in Paradise beyond this state.
When city walls are leveled to the ground,No lesser fort can stand there safe and sound.
When mighty cities perish from the land,Do not expect their hospitals to stand.
Use any stratagem you know to try;Yet still on holy God you must rely.”
Bandvi replied, “Give me the golden crown,The earrings, girdle, and the royal gown.
Give me the robe from Chin, gold-woven, bright,Its ruby color blazing in the light.
While I put all these on, do not remain;Go with your troops across the open plain.
Fly like a ship its sailor drives at sea;With all your troops, make haste away from me.”
The youth obeyed Bandvi without delay,And rode beside the wind upon his way.
rode beside him, grim and wan,His heart weighed down with grief as they fled on.
When Khosrow vanished in that swift retreat,Bandvi prepared his stratagem complete.
He told the bishop, “Seek the mountain height;Stay out of every hostile rider’s sight.”
Then Bandvi swiftly entered in the shrine,And shut the iron door with firm design.
He donned the robe embroidered all with gold,And set the royal crown on, bright and bold.
He climbed the roof and looked across the plain;On every side he saw the hostile train.
He waited while the armed men, fierce of face,Drew close beneath the walls around the place.
He stood upon the roof in open sight,Clad in the signs of kingship, gleaming bright.
They saw the crown, the earrings, torque, and gold,And cried, “Khosrow is trapped within the hold!”
When Bandvi knew the foe had been deceived,He hurried from the roof, his aim achieved.
He swiftly donned his ordinary clothes,Then climbed the roof again above his foes.
Fearless, he said, “Young warriors, answer true:Which chief among you leads and speaks for you?
I bear a message from the Shah today,For him who leads your warriors’ array.”
The son of Siavash, in answer brief,Said, “I am Bahram, and I am the chief.”
Bandvi replied, “The Shah has said, ‘My roadHas sorely tried me with its weary load.
Our beasts are bruised and weary from the way;The long road leaves them broken where they stay.
With five companions I have come to restWithin this house, by toil and pain oppressed.
At dawn I shall ride with you, and proceedTo proud with every speed.
I seek no further time than that, unlessHigh heaven sends some aid in my distress.
My ancestors upheld their faith and ways,And honored lesser men in adverse days.
From shining sun to earth beneath our feet,God’s will alone directs all we shall meet.’”
The chief agreed; all those who heard were stirred,And pitied Khosrow when they heard that word.
The troopers all dismounted for the night,And kept their guard around the holy site.
Next day Bandvi went to the roof and cried:“The Shah still prays; let him in peace abide.
He prayed all night; the sun is high today;Do not afflict him with the burning ray.
Let him rest here today; when dawn is bright,He will ride with your troops and end his flight.”
“This may prove trifling,” Bahram told each chief,“Or prove a weighty matter past belief.
If pressed too hard, his anger may arise,And he may fall upon us by surprise.
He is an army in himself, and bold,World-seeking, shrewd, a warrior hard to hold.
If he should fall, Bahram Chubin will turnHis wrath on us; for this our lives will burn.
Best wait today, though stores are running low,And see if without conflict he will go.”
Thus matters stood till night climbed mountain height;The troops closed round; on each side fires burned bright.
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In briefBandvi tells the pursuers from the roof that Khosrow is long gone, and asks quarter to speak to their chief. Young Bahram takes him alive; Bahram Chubin rages at both, spares Bandvi’s life, and has him chained in the young man’s keeping.
When earth grew sun-hued, eloquent Climbed to the roof where all the ranks could see.
“Young , ,” cried Bandvi then,“Look on these walls, and hear my words again!
While you stood watchful through two nights and days,The Shah spurred westward through the desert haze;
Though eagle-winged you soared above the sun,You could not track the prince whose flight is done!
He crosses now into the Roman lands,Beyond the reach of all your rebel bands.
But grant me quarter; I shall gladly goBefore your chief and tell him all I know.
About our group of men, both low and high,Whatever he may ask, I shall reply.
If not, I don my armor for the fightAnd meet you as a warrior, with full might.”
The young man’s heart grew old beneath his grief;He turned and spoke to every fellow chief:
“What profit comes if Bandvi now is slain?His death will bring us neither news nor gain.
The better course is this: take him alive,That through his answers our designs may thrive.
Before the Pahlevan let him be led,To gain an honored crown or lose his head.”
He called, “You schemer, take your words of blameTo Chubin; let him hear the case you claim.”
Bandvi the Lion left the heights behindAnd rode beside the chiefs, of fearless mind.
heard his troops had returned,And how revenge in Khosrow’s bosom burned.
He heard the Shah had fled to ; his ireAt ’s son blazed up like fire.
“You luckless wretch! This task surpassed your skill;I praised a man unfit to do my will!”
The , in pride, called Bandvi then,And poured his anger out before his men:
“You miscreant, deceitful, lying man,Who fooled my troops by trickery and plan!
Your treacherous heart could find no quiet rest;You joined that cursed stripling, breast to breast:
You teach a boy the wickedness of state,Reviving ancient feuds and bitter hate!”
Bandvi replied, “Exalted chief, be still;Seek truth from me, and curb your angry will.
Know that the king of kings is kin to me;His greatness and his bounty guide my plea.
For him I risked my life, as duty bade;I did what must be done, and gave him aid.
If you are truly chief, act straight and plain;Let justice rule; let wrath no longer reign.”
Bahram replied, “I will not take your breathFor this offense, nor put you now to death.
But Khosrow’s hand will kill you soon; that dayYou will admit the truth of what I say.”
They bound his limbs with irons, and conveyedThe captive to young Bahram’s watchful blade.
Chubin sat brooding till the day had fled,With dark forebodings circling in his head.
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In briefBahram puts the question of the throne to Iran’s chiefs. Some hail him, some urge him to seek Khosrow’s pardon; when one proposes waiting for a royal heir, Bahram swears to behead any woman of the royal line. A written pact is signed and sealed, and he is crowned.
When Sol took up his sword and cleft the night, called chiefs in s bright.
He called Iran’s nobles to his side,And set them high where kings in glory bide.
With golden seats about the throne now placed,He sat in joy, with royal triumph graced.
Then with a mighty utterance he spoke,And from his lips a kingly question broke:
“O noble, honored men, now make reply;Advise me truly under Fortune’s sky.
Search all the world: none worse than came,Who slew his sire to win a monarch’s name.
Through that dark deed Iran fell to his hand,And evil’s shadow covered all the land.
Now Khosrow, cursed, has slain his father too;He fled to when that foul deed was through.
Until a worthy royal heir is foundTo wear the crown, with kingly girdle bound,
Who is the man among us fit to stand,And raise the ancient customs of the land?
By Him who keeps the sun in heaven bright,I pledge my aid to set this matter right.”
The nobles heard the famous chieftain’s word,And in the hall no voice of dissent stirred.
Then , aged, brave, and bold,A warrior chief, stood eminent and old.
He answered, “You are helper of the world,A prince before whose flag the foe is hurled.
Had you not faced the threat when came,No man could match his might or check his aim.
He crossed our border to make free men slaves,And roll Iran beneath invading waves.
You armed yourself and turned that trouble back;Iran was safe from danger and attack.
Four hundred thousand warriors in the fightFled from your single shaft in broken flight.
Thus Iran rested after heat and strife;Her throne befits your Fortune and your life.
Whoever dares to turn from your command,Or shuns the pact by which we take our stand,
However brave, we shall compel him still,Though Khosrow be the cause that moves his will.”
He spoke and sat; ’s chief drew near,And stood before devoid of fear.
He said, “This elder, wise in ancient lore,Has spoken of the deeds that went before.
He told of all the good that you have done,And cheered the hearts of those here, every one.
Yet in the , gaveA saying honest minds should heed and save:
Whoever turns from God, let counsel guideHis steps for one full year, with needs supplied.
If, when that year has passed, he still should stray,The Shah commands his death without delay.
If he remains the just Shah’s open foe,Then strike his head and let his lifeblood flow.”
He spoke and sat; then arose,And weighed just speech against misfortune’s blows.
“O helpful chief,” he said, “let right prevail;Let none rejoice in words that tip the scale.
May you be blessed, Bahram; may your sightSustain the world and keep its order bright.
If what we say is judged unfit to stand,The conquering God lends us no helping hand.
This throne befits you; through your heart’s pure light,You cleanse the realm and set its wrongs to right.
May evil hands and tongues be kept at bay;May you, our Shah, live on in joy each day.”
He sat; then , the chieftain, came,A lion-hearted chief of noble name.
He said, “Though many men talk much today,The right still shows a better, plainer way.
Dispatch a cameleer with utmost speed;Do not delay or turn from wisdom’s lead.
Let not , exalted still,Wear out the road to you through fear of ill.
Seek pardon for your deeds; do not now climbThe throne too boldly in an evil time.
No chief of chiefs deserves the royal throneWhile Khosrow lives to claim it as his own.
If Khosrow’s wrath has filled your heart with fear,Quit and ; withdraw from here.
Keep power in Khorasan; live in peace,And write to him to let your quarrel cease.
Send plea on plea with humble, careful art;Perhaps Khosrow may yet relent at heart.”
Before he moved, rose upright,And spoke with justice clear before their sight:
“O chiefs of noble race, I listened longTo Iran’s chosen leaders, right and wrong.
First comes a slavish plan, both dark and grave:To make a the Shah we crave.
Such counsel sickens every wise man’s frame,And brings a noble warrior lasting shame.
Khorasan’s words were lofty in their tone;Yet in them wisdom’s light has never shone.
But Farrokhzad spoke rashly, fierce and hot;Sound counsel has restraint; his words did not.
The fourth was Khazarvan, whose words rang true;His counsel kept the wiser course in view.
Begin with Zahhak, Arab, foul of mind,Whose unjust rule left righteousness behind.
He slew proud , king of ancient fame,And seized the world through violence and shame.
The holy then grieved to see the reign,Their hearts oppressed with sorrow and with pain.
Next , miscreant of Turan,Crossed streams and raised his sword against Iran.
He cut off ’s head with ruthless steel;The fortunes of the land began to reel.
Third, of Rum came to invade,Ravaged Iran, and there his dwelling made.
He slew brave , noble, battle-tried,And joy and rest throughout Iran had died.
Fourth, foul laid our honor low,And dealt Iran a catastrophic blow:
’s fierce warriors slew King then,The pride and glory of men;
Yet those four scourges sprang from foreign seed,While we today perpetrate a fouler deed:
Our very army drives our prince astray,To beg for refuge in a land away!”
He sat and wept; his eyes were washed in grief,While sullen silence seized on every chief.
Bahram grew pale; then took his stand,A veteran with Indian sword in hand.
Before the gathered chiefs, the elder cried:“This noble Pahlevan stands justified.
Until one born of royal race shall rise,And claim the realm before the nation’s eyes,
He should now take the royal crown and reign,Since conquering Fortune marks him for that gain.”
Bahram, chief of warriors, heard him through,And from its sheath his sharpened sword he drew.
He cried, “If in this quarter we should findA woman of the royal Shahs’ own kind,
My sharpened sword shall strike her head away;Her final breath shall rise that very day.
I will let no one rule this ancient land,Or ride as king amid a mounted band.”
When chiefs possessed by had heardTheir leader’s foul and overweening word,
They drew their scimitars and rose as one,And uttered monstrous words beneath the sun:
“Bahram is Shah; we serve him and shall treadUpon our foes and crush each hostile head.”
When Bahram saw the drawn swords in their hands,He chose good sense and issued these commands:
“Who leaves his seat and grips his sword,” he said,“Shall lose his hand to sober him instead.”
He sought the garden; one by one they went,Their faces furrowed and their spirits spent.
When pitch-hued night unveiled its starry face,And watchmen’s cries resounded through the place,
He called for pen and paper; then there cameA wise and generous scribe to serve his aim.
The scribe set out the inkstand and the pen.Bahram said, “Write this pact from Iran’s men:
‘Bahram Chubin is Shah, let him be praised,Deserving crown and throne, by Fortune raised.
He seeks but truth, in all he may reveal,And equally in what he may conceal.’”
The writing done, they pondered through the night,And troubled faces waited for the light.
When lapis-colored darkness passed away,And all the world grew sun-gilt with the day,
A Fortune-favored man prepared the hallWithin Bahram Chubin’s palace wall.
He set the throne; they swept the great hall bare,Then hung the crown above the royal chair.
Upon the golden throne they set the seat;Then opened court, its setting now complete.
He took his place as Shah upon the throne;He wore the crown; his power was plainly shown.
The scribe then brought the royal scroll to light,On precious silk inscribed, both fair and bright.
Each chief then testified and signed his name:“Bahram is monarch, worthy of his fame.”
He sealed it with his golden seal and said:“Let holy God bear witness overhead.
This realm is mine; may kings of my descentHold crown and throne through ages heaven-sent.
For one full thousand years may they remain,With son succeeding son throughout that reign.”
On day, when Azar’s month was new,The spheres revolved in portents strange to view:
A lesser star usurped the solar throne;The world was turned to dust and shadows lone;
The royal cypress fell beneath the blade,While choking briars filled the garden glade.
Then Bahram spoke: “Our strife has passed away;No vengeance stands among us here today.
Whoever will not own this settlement,Whether upright or false in his intent,
May stay three days; then, at the fourth day’s glow,Must leave Iran and straight to Khosrow go.”
Men blessed him, though their hearts denied the word:“May earth not lack you!” through the hall was heard.
But those still loyal to their rightful kingGrieved that Bahram now ruled everything.
They left Iran and made for Rum’s frontier,Dispersing from the land they held so dear.
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In briefIn prison Bandvi works on young Bahram until the young man makes him swear on the Zand-Avesta, frees him, and plots to kill Chubin at polo. The plotter’s wife, in love with Chubin, betrays him; Chubin feels the hidden armor, cuts him down, and Bandvi flees toward Mawsil.
For seventy days , a cheetah bound,Lay prisoned where held guarded ground.
Bahram, the son of , kept ward,Yet grieved to keep him captive for his lord.
Still scheming in his bonds, Bandvi beganTo lure the youth with every practiced plan.
“Despair not of Iran’s true monarch’s right;Though Fortune tarries, day will follow night.
Though fell, and Fortune turned away,Though prevailed upon that day,
In King the royal line rose new,And God restored the throne where it was due.
So Bahram cannot keep the crown and throne;Can this usurper think it is his own?
Let none of noble stock so lose his wayThat he should throw his life like dust away.
Count on your fingers; two months more shall bring’s legions to Iran against this king.
They shall one day set crown and throne alight,And sweep his claims to kingship out of sight.
They shall break the jewels on this rebel’s head,And all his dreams of sovereignty lie dead.”
Bahram replied, “If Khosrow grants me grace,Your counsel in my heart shall have its place.
I will obey you wholly in this thing,But swear an oath to bind the help you bring:
By moon, , by throne and crown,That when Khosrow returns with Rum’s renown,
When he brings ’s legions to this land,You shall secure my life from his own hand.
Let no Iranian word revoke his grace;Do not dismiss the peril that I face.”
He brought the to his side,And made Bandvi swear by the words inside.
Bandvi took up the scroll and made this vow:“May pain and toil descend upon my brow,
And may I never know one hour of rest,But dwell in grief, by lasting sorrow pressed,
If I prove false. When Khosrow takes the throne,I shall approach and make your wishes known.
Once in his presence, I shall urge my questUntil he grants the mercy you request:
A signet and a crown of high renown,To mark your rank in every field and town.”
Bahram, when he had heard the solemn vow,Believed that Bandvi’s heart was faithful now.
He said, “I shall disclose my scheme aloud:I shall strike down the tyrant, fierce and proud.
I shall ensnare Chubin within the hall,And at the feast my deadly sword shall fall.
The sea itself has not a drop to bring,Now that we have to name this Bahram king.”
Bandvi replied, “O seasoned man, attend:I know the path by which such troubles end.
When Khosrow comes from Rum with force and state,And takes the throne assigned by royal Fate,
You will find Khosrow grants me every prayer;His heart will bend to any plea I bear.
For your past wrong I shall present my plea;He would give up his very crown to me.
If you will keep your word and hold no guile,Then loose my bonds and trust me for a while.
First think of Khosrow; this will make it clearWhat you intend, and news will reach his ear.”
Then Bahram’s face grew bright; he loosed the chain,And freed Bandvi from prison’s bitter pain.
When musk-hued night grew pale at dawn’s first ray,Bahram said, “If my heart holds firm today,
When Chubin plays at polo, I shall aimA killing blow to end his royal claim.
Last night I planned with five to strike him down,And end his wicked grasp on throne and crown.”
His brought, he drew it to his side,Then hid it under robes and went to ride.
The warrior’s wife was wicked, false of heart;She loved Chubin and played a traitor’s part.
She wished her spouse cut down and left to die,While love for Chubin burned within her eye.
She sent this secret warning to his ear:“O helpful chief, take heed; a threat is near.
Bahram conceals a jowshan in his robe;What evil he intends, I cannot probe.
Keep far from him; do not join him in play;Whatever harm he plans, keep well away.”
Chubin touched each back gently, keen to feelBeneath the robes the hidden links of steel.
He greeted each with courteous words of cheer;At last the son of Siavash drew near.
He found him mailed beneath his silken gear,And spoke with wrath for all the court to hear:
“O viler than a snake! What man is foundIn jowshan under silk on polo-ground?”
He drew his vengeful scimitar; one strokeCut young Bahram through jowshan and through cloak.
The city heard that young Bahram was slain;When Bandvi learned, all light left heart and brain.
He donned his jowshan, mounted, filled with dread;With trembling hands he girt himself and fled.
He took Bahram’s kin and all allied,All those who staked their fortunes on his side.
They fled to keep Chubin’s revenge at bay;One stage beyond, more riders joined their way.
They pressed toward with desperate speed,While fear behind them spurred each flying steed.
When Chubin left the polo game, he woreA robe whose bloodstains showed the wrath he bore.
He ordered , “Guard Bandvi for me!”They answered, “He has fled; the man is free.
When he was told of Bahram’s death that day,He mounted on the wind and fled away.
He grieved to hear about his comrade’s doom,And saw the road ahead wrapped all in gloom.”
The King cried: “Cursed be he whose witless endFails to distinguish between foe and friend!
One sleeps by elephant tusks in foolish pride;Another trusts his bark to ocean’s tide;
A third provokes a monarch to his face;A fourth would grip a lion in embrace!
Pity all four: their judgment runs perverse;Their headlong folly breeds their early curse!
One calls a crowd to move a mountain’s height,Then grasps but wind for all his wasted might.
To sail in ships unfit to face the tideIs safer than to let rash haste decide.
You seek to see the spring, but turn away,Bewildered, with your anger on display.
Who takes a blind man as his guide will roamLost on a road that never leads him home.
Who grips a dragon forfeits life and breath;The beast breaks free and brings its captor death.
Who tries a poison, sipping it to test,Wins but the mortal fire that burns his breast.
I spared Bandvi when first I had him caught;He schemed and won the freedom that he sought.
My deed is one for which I still must weep,And wait to learn what God would have me reap.”
Meanwhile Bandvi, with his devoted band,Sped like the wind across the rugged land;
By secret tracks where desert creatures strayed,He rode until he saw a camp displayed:
There noble , northern frontier chief,Lay camped beside a stream in watchful grief;
Brave Bandvi sought his tent in hopeful mood,And was received with fellowship and food;
He bowed to Mawsil, and in private toldHow young Bahram had died, how treason rolled.
Mawsil replied, “Stay here with me and hearThe latest news of Khosrow’s purpose clear;
What Khosrow does in Rum, and what the newsReveals of peace or war; which he will choose.”
Bandvi agreed to linger where they lay,And called his waiting comrades up that day.
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In briefCrossing the desert, Khosrow is fed by an Arab caravan chief and by a merchant, and a storm breaches the walls of Karsan for him. At Warigh a hermit knows him at sight and foretells Caesar’s help, a daughter’s hand, victory within a year, and betrayal by Gostaham.
crossed parched terrain in pain;No guide was there; no grass grew on the plain.
Slack-reined, to they rode ahead,With bitter hearts, along the road they sped.
There all the well-disposed among the greatCame out to meet the Shah outside the gate.
As he drew near, he bade his ranks alightThere in the town, worn down by dust and flight.
Scarce had they done so when a courier cameFrom Iran, riding hard with secret aim.
He bore a secret letter at his breast,From to the ruler, a request:
“Detain all the armies that come this way;My troops pursue and will arrive today.”
The ruler read the letter’s hidden thought,And hastened to the Shah with what it brought.
Khosrow read on, amazed at Fortune’s change,And how her turn made all the world seem strange.
He feared pursuit and mourned his weary state,Then mounted swiftly and passed through the gate.
He gathered up his reins and onward went,Until he reached the , travel-spent.
No rest was his within his own domain;His followers went hungry through the plain.
Then they beheld a wood and water bright,And on its grass the Shah bade them alight.
They strung a bow and sought for game to eat,But found no living quarry for their meat.
A caravan appeared, a laden train;A cameleer led on across the plain.
The youth beheld Khosrow and blessed his name,And honored him for and royal fame.
The noble Shah asked, “Tell me who you are,Your trade, and from what land you come so far.”
He said, “I am , ’ noble son,Heir to Arab chiefs by lineage won.
From I came with caravan and gear;I am its chief and foremost cameleer.
Beside the Farat’s waters I abide,And from that home I came to this wood’s side.”
Khosrow asked, “What food have you to share,And rugs to spread? Our stores and gear are bare.”
The Arab answered, “Stay; I stand with you,With body, soul, and goods, devoted, true.”
He loved the Shah and brought a fatted cow;They slaughtered her beside the forest bough.
They kindled fire from sticks both green and dry,And sent the smoke ascending to the sky.
He grilled ; the Shah’s companions fedUpon the roasted meat, but had no bread.
The faithful said the prayers their creed had taught;The others ate the food the Arab brought.
Each chieftain made himself a place to rest;They slept, then rose to pray at God’s behest.
They offered prayers to God, the Judge Most Just,Who made the mighty and the weak from dust.
Then said the Shah, “Who bears the greater blameShall find more honor with me, greater fame.
Still those who have done worst and gone astray,Rebelled, and left the Almighty’s righteous way,
May trust me with assurance in their need;Give them fair hopes in counsel and in deed.”
His comrades blessed him: “Upright, pure, and true,May joy protect you when hard times pursue.
May joy be yours through all the years ahead;May crown and throne be yours,” his comrades said.
He asked the Arab, “Tell me of the track;How shall my troops fare, and what shall they lack?”
He said, “Some seventy farsangs you must goThrough desert land and mountains, high and low.
Give me your leave, and let your haste abate;I shall bring meat and water if you wait.”
Khosrow replied, “No other course remains;With food and guidance, we may cross these plains.”
The Arab sent a swift camel ahead,To show the troops where mountain pathways led.
They hurried on through toil and anxious care,With hunger, thirst, and dust upon the air.
Far off another caravan appeared,Upon the route by which the army steered.
A wealthy merchant came before the king;The Shah began to question everything:
“Say where you travel, and what trade you ply;Declare your home beneath the turning sky.”
He said, “I am a merchant and a scribe;From comes my tribe.”
“What name did your own father give to you?”“,” he answered, speaking true.
The king requested goods and food from him,For all his weary troops grew faint and grim.
The chief replied, “Our stores are rich and vast,”Though on the merchant’s face a cloud was cast.
The Shah said, “When you meet a guest one dayUpon the road, more wealth shall come your way.”
The merchant loosened bales of varied wares,And brought forth provender to ease their cares.
He sat upon the ground and blessed the king,While all received the food that he could bring.
When all had eaten, he came forth to standBefore the Shah, a ewer in his hand.
But , son of , saw the scene,And quickly crossed the open space between.
He took the warm ewer to spare the kingThe shame the merchant’s service there might bring.
When next the merchant brought clear wine to him,Like bright rosewater, shining to the brim,
Kharrad again received it from his hand,And gave the goblet by the Shah’s command.
In true observance servants profit find,For faithful service is repaid in kind.
The Shah then asked, “What route shall soldiers try?Where in that district does your dwelling lie?”
He said, “O Shah, may wisdom be your guide;I am a merchant,” he replied.
He bade his scribe, , record the nameAnd village of the youth from whom help came.
“Go on your way,” he said, “and let your heartBe wisdom’s warp and woof in every part.”
The little troop left that refreshing ground,And rode toward the Roman border’s bound:
They reached the fortress of at last,Whose Christian wardens made the portals fast;
They barred the gates in terror and surprise,And watched the strangers with suspicious eyes.
Within, they shot the bolts and stood aghast;The Shah remained outside, his heart downcast.
The royal exile waited, sore distressed,Three days outside, with hungry troops hard-pressed.
Upon the fourth he sent a man to say:“Our troops are few and worn upon the way.
We have not come to fight against this town;Do not let hunger wear our people down.
Send provender and relief in our need;Do not oppose us with so harsh a deed.”
They scorned his words; his troops were weak and worn,Their strength by hunger and exhaustion torn.
Then suddenly a murky cloud arose,And roared like a war-lion at its foes.
A storm swept over that embattled place;From every quarter rose a cry for grace.
By midnight part of its great walls fell down;Amazement seized the people of the town.
The bishop prayed; they gathered food in fear,From every quarter, and drew quickly near.
Three venerable priests went forth that day,With Roman fruits and gifts in bright array.
They brought the Shah fine robes and a led horse,And begged forgiveness for their erring course.
“Our fault, O Shah, is manifest,” they cried;The noble youth did not reproach their pride.
Within the city walls a palace rose,Whose summit met the clouds in high repose.
had built its hall and domes that loom,With many slaves, the pride of royal .
The Shah went in and left the dusty plain,Then walked the city streets despite his pain.
The Romans all acclaimed his royal feet,And strewed bright jewels through the echoing street.
Possessing that fair dwelling, he took rest,Though Roman exile still oppressed his breast.
He wrote to Caesar of the storm and rain,The blackened cloud, the town, and all its pain.
Then on toward went the royal train;He named it on the open plain.
The shrewd, the wise, the great in power and fame,With priests and monks, before the monarch came.
They brought him gifts and offerings, and spokeOf storm and cloud, and how the tempest broke.
They said, “We are your slaves, and bow beforeThe least command that issues from your door.”
He stayed three days; the fourth day brought the light,When Sol’s bright sword cut cloud and dark from sight.
Toward then the royal party came;Its cross and hospital had won great fame.
Upon the plain he saw a hermitage,And heard a hermit speaking, worn with age.
The Shah drew near the door and cried aloud:“May God bless you beneath this desert cloud.
Come forth, if you will leave your ancient cell,And may your worship long with blessing dwell.”
The hermit heard, descended from his place,And saw the Shah and knew his royal face.
He said, “In truth, you are Khosrow the king,Whom one man’s treachery to Rum would bring.
That wicked slave, puffed up with scorn and spite,Has driven you from throne and royal right.
All this affliction for your father’s throneHas forced you from the realm you call your own.”
He spoke at length; the Shah was cheered in heart,By all that kindness and prophetic art.
Amazed, they praised the Maker for the sage,Whose mind was burnished by his holy age;
From saddle-bow the Shah addressed the seer,Who bowed in reverence as the prince drew near;
To test his sight, young Khosrow said: “I rideTo speak as herald for our sovereign’s side;
I bear dispatches to Caesar’s royal hand,And shall return his answer to our band.
Will this my journey prosper? Let me knowWhat end awaits me, whether joy or woe.”
He answered, “Do not speak as one who serves;The Shah commands the homage he deserves.
I knew you at first sight; do not deceive;Your holy Faith forbids the lies you weave.
Deceit is not your custom or your way;You have endured much toil from day to day.
At last you fled before your slave in fear.”Khosrow stood shamed, amazed at what came clear.
He started to excuse himself, but thenThe hermit said, “Do not begin again.
Ask what will come; take heart and be secure;Your coming here will lead to triumph pure.
Stand like a bough in fruit, with farr-lit face;God’s favor soon will lift you to your place.
He will bestow high Fortune, crown, and might;From Caesar you will gain both arms and right.
You shall have legions, and his daughter fair,A worthy bride to share the crown you bear.
of all keeps watch and will assistYour battle with the slaves who now resist.
The miscreant will flee and then recallThe days when Fortune raised him over all.
Far from the battlefield he will alight,And dwell removed from your victorious sight.
Yet rather than submit to you and stand,He will choose exile in a distant land.
Still they will shed his blood at your behest,And death will bring his rebel heart to rest.”
The Shah replied: “May God fulfill this sign;Yet tell me when the kingship shall be mine?”
The hermit said: “Twelve months must pass away,And to their number add the fifteenth day:
Then as the King of Kings, the world’s bright sun,Your throne shall rise, your enterprise be won!”
The Shah then asked, “Who here will strive to bringDistress and pain upon me as his king?”
The hermit said, “, a man of pride,Your uncle, in whose fortune you confide.
Beware of him, for he will bring you pain,And harm and sorrow in the years you reign.”
The Shah grew angry. “Speak,” he said. “ExplainThe truth behind these names, and make it plain.
Your mother named you Bistam; yet you claim, when in battle, as your name.”
“This is my mother’s brother,” Khosrow cried;Then to the Shah the holy man replied:
“Yes, he is that same man; of him beware:Through Gostaham you will know pain and care.”
“And afterward,” the Shah said, “what will be?”His counselor replied, “Let that thought flee.
From that time onward praise shall mark your days;No evil shall descend upon your ways.
If hardship comes, it comes by God’s decree;This rebel will disturb your peace,” said he.
“Then all shall be as you yourself command;For all his spite, his end is in your hand.”
Then Gostaham said, “King, dismiss this fear.By holy God who made the moon appear,
Who fashioned such a Shah to rule mankind;By sun and moon, whose courses He designed;
By , and by our Shah’s own head,And by his life, whose fame is widely spread:
While Gostaham still draws the breath of life,He shall seek right and never turn to strife.
If ever I should choose another course,May Gostaham’s own soul depart its source.
Since God first made the world that all men see,No mortal has beheld His mystery’s key.
Why trust, then, what this Christian has declared,Or heed the idle words that he has shared?
Grant me protection from this Christian’s claim;Do not seek cause to stain my loyal name.
Now I have sworn my oath before your sight;Do not let baseless doubt obscure the right.”
Khosrow replied, “Holy men speak true;And I have never witnessed wrong in you.
You do not stoop to folly or deceit,Nor set your mind where crooked counsels meet.
Yet heaven’s course may make a good man stray,For when God wills, even wisdom turns away.”
Then to the hermit: “May your heart be bright,And may your days be filled with joy and light.”
He left the hermitage like lightning castFrom cloud to earth, and rode to Warigh fast.
And when he reached the city on his way,The men of worth came forth without delay.
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In briefA Roman horseman brings Caesar’s welcome and a promise of arms. Khosrow briefs his envoys for the Roman court — to win at polo and archery, to write few words for philosophers to weigh — and sends them. Kharrad delivers the letter standing, and Caesar weeps.
When Khosrow came, from noble ’s sideA horseman then appeared with courtly pride.
He said, “Ask what you will within our land;Conceal no wish; make known your full demand.
This realm is mine, yet you are equal here;So dwell secure and honored, free from fear.
Stay in this city, fearing no offense;My rule shall be your shelter and defense.
All Roman chiefs, however proud and high,Shall serve your need and never aid deny.
I shall seek neither food nor sleep nor rest,Till arms and legions answer your request.”
The Shah rejoiced to hear that noble word;His anxious soul was eased by what he heard.
He called brave , , and then and , his seasoned men.
, ’s son, stood among the rest,To these the Shah his royal charge addressed:
The monarch said, “At break of day prepare;Set golden saddles on each stallion rare.
Wear tunics woven with the gold of Chin;Be one in heart and purpose, conscience clean.
Depart and parley at great Caesar’s hall;Let courtesy and measured sense guide all.
Be wise, attentive; hear what he will say,And let your gracious speech prepare the way.
If Caesar goes to polo or the groundFor archery, let all your skill be found.
Strive to the utmost with his chiefs in play;Let none of you be worsted there that day.
Let him know riding is Iran’s own art,And victory comes with a lion’s heart.”
The Shah then said to Kharrad, Barzin’s heir:“Bring silk from Chin and black musk, with due care.
I must write Caesar with resplendent light,Like Sol in Paradise to gladden sight.
Let words be few, yet rich in meaning, soEach heart retains the wisdom they bestow.
His wise philosophers will weigh each word;Let no vain phrase within that court be heard.
They measure every word in all they do;Let them find nothing faulty or untrue.
When Caesar reads the letter, be so deftThat none among them has an answer left.”
Then to Balvi he said, “When Caesar speaks,Hear what he asks of me, and what he seeks.
To oath or treaty, kinship, pledge, or bond,With honeyed words be ready to respond.
You are my tongue before that foreign court,Interpreter of good and ill report.
Use every means to guard our royal fame;Save us from shame and safeguard Khosrow’s name.
Take my assurances; keep firm in mindThese words, and leave no royal charge behind.”
Those ardent veterans heard the youthful king,And blessed the crown that Fortune soon would bring.
They said, “May none but you the diadem wear,”Then went to Caesar with glad hearts and care.
When Caesar heard that men of lofty name,Khosrow’s Iranian envoys, to him came,
And neared the palace, he without delaySent legions out to meet them on the way.
He decked a palace with brocade of ,Gold-ground and jeweled, star-bright from the loom.
He sat upon his famous ivory seat,And donned the crown whose light made all complete.
He bade the chamberlains draw back the veil,And lead the envoys in their shimmering mail:
First noble Gostaham, with stately tread,Advanced; then Balvi and Shapur were led;
Kharrad and Andiyan, in gold arrayed,With jeweled belts and coronets displayed,
Approached the throne, made low obeisance meet,And scattered lustrous pearls before his feet!
They scattered gems before the throne’s bright gold;He asked of Khosrow, seeking to be told
Of Iran, troops, and hardships on the way;Kharrad came near, the letter to display.
By Caesar’s order four gold seats were set;Four envoys sat where honor’s ranks were met.
The men of high and well-advised renownSat, but Kharrad stood and would not sit down.
Then Caesar said, “A traveler should sit.”Kharrad replied, “The Shah has not deemed fit
To give me right to sit while in your sight;I hold his letter and uphold his right.
By standing, I may serve this embassy,And show the Shah’s command through courtesy.”
Then Caesar said, “Speak now. What says your king?”Kharrad began, and wisdom took its wing.
And Caesar held his words within his mind.Kharrad praised God, with heart and speech combined:
“The Maker reigns above all heights, all-wise,And holds all might beneath His vaulted skies.
By His command the heavens turn and climb;He stands beyond all bounds of place and time.
The sphere and stars are works of His command;He shaped mankind from dust within His hand.
From earth He gave the living creatures birth,And first brought life to on earth.
The line continued down to ,Whom God chose from the great to grant His boon.
The hidden stock grew known, of high renown,Till Kay received the royal crown.
His house kept God’s true way and knew no ill;A slave now holds the Kayan throne at will.
I seek redress against injustice shown,Not crown or cap or girdle, nor the throne.
Whoever rules must wisdom’s gifts possess,With Fortune and renown to bring success,
And know whose throne this is, whose royal crown,And whose the that marks the Shah’s renown.
Help me; defeat this faithless man. Too longOur exile shames us in the gazing throng.”
When Caesar heard, his cheeks grew fenugreek-pale;Tears dewed that flower as he began to wail.
A bitter cry broke from his tongue and breast,As grief and pity robbed his heart of rest.
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In briefCaesar tells Kharrad that he holds Khosrow above his nearest kin and would give his eyes if they were asked for. He has an old scribe write a generous answer promising men, arms and treasure, and sends it by a horseman to the waiting Shah.
He read the letter; grief within him grew,The throne before his eyes turned lapis-blue.
Then spoke to , wise of heart:“The wise know well the truth I now impart.
I hold Khosrow above my nearest kin,Above the living soul I bear within.
I have arms, legions, treasure; now declareWhat he requires; his needs shall be my care.
If he should ask my eyes, I would agree,Though more than all my wealth they mean to me.”
Then Caesar called an old and practiced scribe,A man of skill and wisdom in his tribe.
He bade him write an answer rich with art,Like Paradise to gladden every heart,
With counsels, promises, and royal lore,Of former times and present days and more.
When done, he chose a horseman free of fear,Ardent and wise, whose fluent speech was clear.
That learned warrior, weighing matters well,Was sent to where the exiled Shah would dwell:
“Proclaim: ‘O noble Shah, who treads the way,My power shall sweep your bitter cares away!
Both arms and gold are ready to your hand;No guest shall suffer sorrow in my land.
And had I lacked them, I would beg the aidOf every prince until the cost were paid,
That you might turn to Iran satisfied,With all your hopes fulfilled, your wants supplied!
Such are the turns of heaven: grief and care,Then sudden triumph in the place of snare.
Grieve not, but rest while fortune turns its wheel:I shall supply the legions and the steel!’”
The envoy reached Prince Khosrow and conveyedThe words of Caesar and the pledge he made.
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In briefOn his counselor’s advice Caesar calls in four Roman sages, who advise refusing aid: Iran has bled Rum since Iskandar, and a restored Khosrow will demand tribute. Caesar changes his mind and writes so. Khosrow answers with restrained anger, threatens to seek the Khan instead, and sends Tukhar back to Rum.
Then cleared his hall, and sat and weighedThe matter, with his counselor to aid.
He told the priest, “This man has sought our grace,And chosen us for refuge in this place.
What shall we do to help him win reliefFrom shame imposed by that rebellious chief?”
The counselor replied, “What now we needIs counsel from the shrewd in thought and deed.
Let some of our philosophers attend,Well-advised men who know where counsels end.”
So mighty Caesar sent, and four men came,All Roman sages, men of noble name.
They said, “Since departed life,The Iranians have worn us down with strife.
By frequent raids and war, by shedding blood,They wounded us and spilled a causeless flood.
Now holy God repays their evil ways; Fortune dims beneath His gaze.
Give him no aid. If Khosrow now regainsThe royal crown and over Iran reigns,
He soon will ask for tribute from this land,And trample beneath his haughty hand.
Consider whether such a course is wise;Hold all their promises as empty lies.”
When Caesar heard, his purpose turned about;The Shah’s first hope was dimmed by Caesar’s doubt.
He sent a swift horseman out to conveyHis note and what Rum’s sages had to say.
The envoy reached the place where Khosrow stayed,And spoke the words that Caesar had conveyed.
He gave the letter and explained at large;The Shah’s heart tightened under every charge.
His face turned wan with care; he then replied,With royal grief restrained by royal pride:
“If we must lay to heart, from ages past,Each charge that our accusers choose to cast,
Then all the hardships we have borne are vain,And all our weary toil has brought no gain.
Consider now our ancestors’ long fight:Was it unjust, or did they fight for right?
Ask ancient men who keep such matters clear,And question Rum’s wise sages without fear.
So be it; we shall turn from Rum and go;May you not need Iran in time of woe.
Let them decide which bird began the fight:The crow or owl, and which one acted right.
Not all who rise in Rum can therefore standWithout the Maker’s aid and guiding hand.
My ancestors were men of high renown,And prospered in the world beneath their crown.
They bore no man’s rebellion or his pride,Nor foolishness, nor harshness would abide.
But what does all this matter, when my headLies in the dragon’s maw, enclosed by dread?
Greet Caesar; say, ‘The great will not deviseSuch empty words to lay before the wise.
Though good and ill pass onward in the end,I will not rest, nor shall my purpose bend,
Until I free my robe from this foul stream,And wake from exile’s dark and shameful dream.
If Rum will not support me in my need,Envoys shall go where the Khan’s banners lead.
My words were vain, deprived of all their force;The running stream was darkened at its source.
When my returning messengers draw near,I shall depart and cease to linger here.’”
He told Iran’s men, “Let no heart be torn;Obey my word, though Fortune turns in scorn.
For God the Conqueror will bring us through;Our part is to be brave, and kind, and true.”
He wrote his answer, gave it to ,Who bore it to the Roman court afar.
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In briefCaesar consults his minister and astrologers, who foretell a long reign for Khosrow. He then writes offering troops, treasure and his daughter, provided Khosrow swears to end the ancient feud, forgo Rum’s tribute and leave the Roman frontier alone. Khosrow’s Iranians welcome the peace.
When read the letter, thought returned,And in his heart deliberation burned.
He called his noble minister and said,“Unfold these problems, weigh them in your head.
Summon the great and brave; tell how things are,And learn what Fortune grants this exiled .
Will Khosrow triumph in this present strife,Or writhe beneath the turning wheel of life?
If you shall say, ‘No triumph waits for him;No New Year comes; his Fortune will be dim,’
Then let him seek the Khan in some far land,And find his cure at that great ruler’s hand.
But if he shall regain his father’s throne,Then let him not go helpless, on his own.
It would be well to send him legions, lestHe keep a lasting hatred in his breast.”
The prudent minister obeyed forthright,And summoned star-readers of ancient sight.
Through three long watches of the darkened night,They spoke with nobles, weighing Khosrow’s plight.
At last an astrologer began and said:“O Caesar, lord whose fame is far outspread,
I have consulted Plato’s tables old,Where star-wise signs and destinies are told.
Before long Khosrow will regain the throne;The realm and royal Fortune are his own.
For thirty-eight full years his reign shall last;No darkening dust shall over him be cast.”
Then Caesar told his minister, “Our doubtConcerning Khosrow now is driven out.
What shall we answer? What shall now be said?What salve upon this wound can we now spread?”
The minister replied, “The Khan may lendHis aid to Khosrow, prove a helpful friend.
If soldiers come from anywhere but ,He will avenge his wrongs and bring us doom.
Advise, O king; your wisdom counts for more,Your strength in all the stratagems of war.”
Then Caesar said, “We must dispatch him aid;Let legions go; let no delay be made.
When all is weighed, the wiser course is shown:Spend wealth to guard the safety of the throne.”
He wrote then, praise on praise in formal art:“With our wise priest we weighed each troubled part.
On good and ill we searched the matter through,And now resume the course we first held true.
Our counsels now are settled; I have laidThe ancient hoards wide open for your aid.
In Constantinople few legions standTo keep secure the borders of our land.
We called for legions, summoned far and wide;As each arrives, we send it to your side.
This long delay, this guarded hesitation,Arose from grave and careful calculation.
Our sages spoke of former wars and wrong,Remembered through the years, both deep and long.
Under Shah , ’s son,Our youths knew toil before that war was done.
Then ravage, slaughter, and assault were rife,And wrongful vengeance drove the chiefs to strife.
Both and forgot the wayOf God’s just law, and let their judgment stray.
Iranian arms laid thirty-nine towns low,And left but bramble, dust, and ruin’s woe.
The fields were drenched with blood of chiefs, and soTheir wives and children captive had to go.
So marvel not that Roman hearts have weighedRevenge for grief upon their fathers laid.
To cause hurt violates our holy creed;May God preserve us from each evil deed.
No better thing than uprightness we know,With no deceit or knavery to show.
We called the wronged and spoke to them at length,Until old rancor lost its hold and strength.
Their evil passions now have passed away;The ancient poison finds its cure today.
We have ensured that none shall raise a cryOf past revenge or let old hatred fly.
They pledge their souls to carry out your will,And swear to keep that solemn promise still.
You too must pledge that none shall ever bearIll will toward Rum or scorn the aid we share.
Say, ‘While I reign, I shall not scorn or slightThe Roman labors witnessed in my sight.
I will not ask Rum’s tribute anymore,Nor sell these labors for a richer store.
Your Roman frontiers shall remain secure;No inroad from Iran shall they endure.’
Go further in goodwill: make treaty now,And bind affinity by sacred vow.
Whatever comes, through peace or bitter war,Let us remain true brothers evermore.
When power shifts, and need has passed away,Let not revenge return another day.
Else men will speak once more of and ,And ancient wrongs will shatter present calm.
I ask a binding pact fit for your seal,A sign that future years may read and feel.
From now on, we will never speak in rageOf ’s blood or wrongs of ancient age.
Let Rum and Iran now be joined in peace;Let no hand break the bond or make it cease.
There is a daughter in our ladies’ bower,Fit for the greatest of the great in power.
Ask her according to our holy rite,And by our Faith make treaty firm and bright.
A child of Caesar’s line will not demandRevenge for Iraj from the Roman land.
The earth will rest; its war and strife will cease,And walk, the past put by, in righteous peace.
With wisdom’s eye, esteem this pact as just;For kinship gives alliance lasting trust.
Such is the precept that we have from God;It turns the sword from field and bloodied sod.
Long years have passed since ’s blood was shed,When stood firm and Pirooz fell dead.
But perish every treaty-breaking king,Whose faithless hand makes dust and ruin spring.
Our Prophet, the Messiah, said this word:‘When justice goes, the mind grows warped and blurred.’
Khoshnavaz strove with every means to savePirooz from ruin and an early grave.
But when Pirooz used force against his foe,In battle he saw nothing but black woe.
His troops and throne were scattered far and wide,Because he cast the path of right aside.
You are a youth and new to kingly care;Take Fortune’s fruit; keep faith in all you swear.
Do not make one who breaks a pact your friend;He is not worth a shroud when life shall end.
The crown and throne curse any king who breaksHis pledge for any vengeance that he takes.
Read through this letter closely; then prepareYour answer with a king’s attentive care.
I would not have this known to any scribe;Write it yourself; let no one else transcribe.
When I shall read your answer, I shall findThe purpose of your independent mind.
Then I shall send you arms, our legions, gold,To ease your care and strengthen what you hold.
As for the honored men who stand beside,And those against whom anger may abide,
Put hatred firmly from your heart and mind;Leave their misdeeds to God, all-wise and kind.
Be neither harsh nor proud with friend or foe;Let measured justice govern high and low.
If you would have victorious Fortune last,And rule the world, your crown and throne held fast,
Do not seize others’ goods to sate your greed;Keep bright the pathway of your soul and deed.
Be gracious; keep your people’s lives secure;Protect the working folk who toil while poor.
If you are generous and a friend in need,None will attempt your crown, nor foes succeed.
The watchful Shahs kept harm and foes at bay;Their God-given farr grew brighter day by day.
Great men seek kinship for themselves, or planSuch ties for their own children, clan with clan.
Now all of us advise you, loyal, true,And offer words of faithful counsel due.”
He stamped the musk seal when the ink was dry,And blessed the envoy sent with this reply.
When word of Caesar’s wish for peace was plainTo , joy displaced his pain.
He told Iran, “The sun turns strange today;A letter from wise Caesar comes our way.
He seeks to end the ancient feud and strifeThat long has troubled Rum and Iran’s life.”
They answered, “When this quarrel finds its end,No chief will seek the crown or war extend.
Nor shall the troops remain in want and pain;Such peace will bring them comfort in your reign.
Such peace, if won by you, will earn acclaim;On royal crowns they will inscribe your name.”
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In briefKhosrow answers in Pahlavi, swearing to demand no tribute, to restore the towns Rum has lost, and to take Caesar’s daughter as his wife. He traces his line from Kioumars to Ardeshir and claims kinship with Rum through Salm. Caesar reads it and consults his chiefs.
When all approved the counsel and the plan,Khosrow dismissed the courtiers, to a man:
He called for Chinese silk, for ink and quill,And took the pen himself with monarch’s skill;
In ancient his hand portrayedThe solemn covenant and vow he made:
“ swears by the holy God,By circling sun and earth’s sustaining sod,
That while I sit as Shah upon the throne,With Iran’s troops and treasures as my own,
I shall demand no tribute from your hand,Nor lead an army to invade your land;
The border fortresses that has lostI shall restore, unmindful of the cost:
I pledge our seals to ratify this claim,And ask your daughter, worthy of your name:
Her mother, pure, belongs within your house;With your consent, I take your child as spouse.
Entrust her to Iranians at your court,Who dwell beneath your shield and strong support:
, of ’s honored name, and , of noble fame.
Send her with legions when you grant that aid,That wise young bride, renowned and well-arrayed.
Through this affinity I join with you,As ancient royal houses used to do.
First came forth in ancient light,Then , hope and terror in men’s sight.
From and came that raceOf noble kings who held that honored place.
From crowned old monarchs runs the sacred streamTo Kay , whose virtues brightly gleam;
Then Kay and upheldThe royal right, whose justice wolves repelled;
The line flowed on through ’s righteous reign,And valiant followed in that train.
Then , first among the bold,From whom came , famed in days of old.
Through , Fortune’s lightGrew young again; his star was clear and bright.
Now Khosrow, son of , heart and hand,Is one with over sea and land.
Among your distant fathers is known;No falsehood mars the ancestry here shown.
We shall end every feud of former days,And join Iran and Rum in peaceful ways.
Roman and Iranian shall be one;Of ancient quarrels, there shall linger none.
I take from Caesar’s house his daughter fair,The choicest blossom that his gardens bear.
Whatever vice or virtue she may claim,I shall receive her to my crown and name.
God witnesses this letter I have made,And by my hand its every word is laid.
I set my seal to every word I write,According to our ways, our Faith, our rite.
For those who follow you upon the throne,This pledge shall stand, in writing clearly shown.
My soul and wisdom witness what I say;In great or small, I shall not turn away.
My heart, my star, and holy God attestThat every word is true within my breast.
Now keep your promise; grant no more delay;Too long I linger here, day after day.”
When all was said, he placed the scroll in trustWith , son of Kharrad, wise and just.
Swift as the wind, that chief arose and sprangUpon his chestnut horse; the hoofbeats rang.
He sped until he came to Caesar’s throne,And made the words of Khosrow fully known.
Then Caesar broke the band and read the scroll,The Shah’s exalted words before him whole.
He called on wise, well-spoken men to meet,And questioned each before his royal seat.
“What course is best? How shall this treaty standBetween Rum’s realm and Iran’s royal land?
His letter leaves no pretext now,” he cried;“Rum and Iran stand firmly side by side.”
The chiefs and sages rose and answered then:“We are your subjects, Caesar, all your men.
The counsel and command are all your own;Our lives and souls are bound to serve your throne.”
Caesar approved those pious chiefs and wise,And praised the judgment shining in their eyes.
He waited till the lamp of day grew dim,And darkness spread across the heavens’ rim.
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In briefCaesar has his adepts build an automaton of a weeping widow. Gostaham, Balvi, Shapur and Andiyan all counsel it in vain; Kharrad alone sees that its motions repeat and exposes the trick. Caesar then shows him a rider hung in the air beneath a lodestone dome.
When circling Sol sank down and darkness towered,And stars awoke where nightly shadows flowered,
bade skilled mechanicians deviseA talisman to baffle watching eyes:
They shaped a lifelike woman with such artThat none could tell the counterfeit apart.
She sat in trailing raiment, robed and crowned,With handmaids near and servants ranged around.
Before, behind, on both her sides they stood,While she sat silent, fashioned fair and good.
That moon-faced form appeared as one who wept,And in her grief a queenly stillness kept.
At intervals, one hand would gently rise,And wipe the tears that gathered in her eyes.
All those who gazed upon it from afarBeheld a woman radiant as a star.
She seemed to weep for Christ; her cheeks were red,Her lashes, like spring clouds, their showers shed.
When those adepts had set it in its place,One went to Caesar, wonder in his face.
When Caesar heard the expert’s word, he rose,And hastened from the throne to view it close.
He saw the talisman and stood amazedAt secret arts on which in awe he gazed.
He sent for , the warrior famed,And richly paid the sorcerers acclaimed.
With money, robes, and gifts of every kind,He honored all whose craft had fooled the mind.
Then Caesar said to Gostaham, “Attend:I had a daughter, beauty without end.
She grew to marriageable years in grace;I found a kinsman of aspiring race.
I married her to him by Christian rite,And sent her to his palace out of sight.
I chose that youth; I chose in error then;Now heaven has taken him from mortal men.
His soul has gone to Heaven; grief has spread,And daylight now seems lapis-dark instead.
She will not heed my counsel or reply;Our youthful world grows aged while we sigh.
Go speak with her; use learning and your art,And ease with measured words her wounded heart.
Young , born of a noble stock,Perhaps your words her silence may unlock.”
He said, “I will; perhaps this love will cease,And I shall bring her troubled spirit peace.”
With cheerful heart and potent words in mind,The chief approached the image so refined.
As Gostaham drew near the royal seat,The guileful form bowed low, his glance to meet.
Illustrious Gostaham took his place,And spoke to that sad woman, full of grace.
“O daughter born of Caesar’s royal line,The wise do not lament ’s design.
The eagle in the sky, the lion’s pride,The fish beneath the waves where waters glide,
Are none exempt from death’s supreme command;All creatures pass beneath the turning hand.”
But all his words were wind; the form lacked breath,No tongue to answer, silent as in death.
Only at times she raised her hand, to dryThe tears that, by design, fell from her eye.
While Gostaham was lost in wondering thought,Caesar sent for him and the answer sought.
“How did you find my child, whose endless griefHas robbed my heart of comfort and relief?”
He answered, “Long I counseled her; her tongueStayed mute; no answer from her lips was wrung.”
Next day said Caesar, “, take the roadWith and to her abode.
The nobly born may help to make me glad;Go speak with her whose grief has made me sad.
Speak to the mourner of the famous king;Perhaps your words some answer now may bring.
She heaps upon my head the fire of grief;Her tears deny my weary heart relief.
Help me by speaking with my mourning child;Let counsel make her wounded spirit mild.
I feel assured today she will reply,And I shall be released from grief thereby.”
Those three Iranian nobles came to plead;Each offered counsel she refused to heed.
That tongueless form remained in silence bound;No living answer in the hall was found.
The baffled three returned to Caesar’s hall,And said she had not answered them at all.
“We spoke and counseled as our wisdom could,But none of all our counsel did her good.”
Said Caesar, “Fortune wounds us when we grieveFor one whose grief no counsel can relieve.”
Since those great nobles failed, he next addressed, whose piercing thought surpassed the best.
Caesar then said, “From ’s great lineYou come; perhaps her voice will give a sign.”
He sent him to the mourner from the court,With one attendant trusted for support.
Kharrad arrived and studied her array,Her crown, her face, and how she sat that day.
The guileful talisman bowed down to greet;Kharrad watched closely from her head to feet.
He marked the servants standing all around,Then spoke at length, but heard from her no sound.
That scion of the chiefs grew full of thought:“Can grief explain the signs my eye has caught?
If grief had robbed her reason and her will,Why are her servants also silent still?
If these are tears that truly fill her eyes,Her passion should abate beneath the skies.
She lets the drops fall always on one place;Her hand repeats its course before her face.
No other part has stirred, no foot has strayed;The same stiff gesture, endlessly replayed.
Were life within this form, its tears would stray,Or else its hand would move another way.
I see no living motion in her frame;The Roman sages forged this clever game.”
He came to Caesar smiling and at ease:“This moon-faced lady neither breathes nor sees.
She is a talisman the Romans made,Both Balvi and Gostaham it betrayed.
You mock us with the marvels you devise,And cast this spell of blindness on our eyes.
Our Shah will smile when he shall hear the tale,And show his silver teeth where tricks must fail.”
Said Caesar, “Live forever. You are fitTo serve as minister where monarchs sit.
I have a wondrous chamber in my hall;No mind can grasp the marvels of it all.
When you behold it, you cannot decideIf craft or heavenly power stands inside.”
Kharrad beheld a rider in the air,Suspended on his horse, a wonder rare.
He came to Caesar: “Such a wondrous stoneDeserves a place upon a royal throne.”
Then Caesar asked, “Who made this talisman,And raised this lifeless semblance of a man?”
He said, “The horseman is of iron made;The dome of lodestone holds him there displayed.”
The lodestone draws the iron, and suspendsThe horse and rider where the dome ascends.
The Romans set him on an iron steed;The Indian books bring joy to those who read.
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In briefCaesar asks about Indian belief, and Kharrad describes cow-veneration, fire-entry and the sphere of ether. He then turns on Rum, quoting the Messiah’s own precepts against Roman wealth and war, and sets out the Zoroastrian estates. Caesar praises him and gives him a crown.
Then asked, “What heights do they attainUpon the path that Indian creeds maintain?
Do they bow down to idols when they pray,Or does some sacred law direct their way?”
, the son of , answered soon:“In they serve the ox and praise the moon.
They put no trust in God or turning sky,And pass beyond the circling sun on high.
They do not reckon men like us as wise,And hold their bodies worthless in their eyes.
Who kindles fire and steps within its flameBelieves self-burning earns a righteous name.
They say a fire abides within the height,Set by , great Lord of sovereign might.
The sage names this high fire the Ether’s sphere,And speaks of it in words that please the ear.
When earthly flame and ether-flame combine,They say man’s sin is purged by fire divine.
For this they kindle fire and feed its blaze,And deem the burning worthy of their praise.
Your own beliefs are not the truth you claim;Christ’s spirit is my witness to the same.
Mark what Lord Jesus, Mary’s son, once taught,When hidden truths were into daylight brought:
‘If someone seizes your shirt, let anger go;Do not resist or strike him blow for blow.
If one should strike your face with bitter blows,Until your eyes grow dark beneath your woes,
Do not grow angry; let no cheek turn pale;Speak no cold word, and let not patience fail.
If food is scarce, be with the little fed;If bedding fails, ask for no cloth to spread.
Return no harm for harm, no wrong for wrong;Pass through this darkness harmless, calm and strong.’
But now desire is king above your thought;Through overweening greed your hearts are caught.
You raise your palaces to Saturn’s height;Your treasure keys proclaim your wealth and might.
Besides your wealth, you marshal mailed arrays,With Roman helms and armor bright with rays.
You send your legions out against the right,And leave your ease to draw your swords and fight.
The wilderness has turned to seas of blood;Christ did not guide you to that crimson flood.
He was a poor man, earning his own breadThrough toil, by which his humble life was fed.
He lived on curds and milk and simple fare,With butter only for his further share.
A Jewish man seized him and saw him standWithout a friend or any helping hand.
He slew him, raised him on the gibbet-tree,And mocked his Faith for all the world to see.
Grown ardent, eloquent, and wise in youth,He sought deep knowledge and proclaimed the truth.
In youth his wit had brought him learning’s light;In time he gained a prophet’s rank and right.
You say he was God’s son and smiling died,Upon the gibbet, mocked and crucified.
At such a claim the sage will smile and seeThe flaw that lies within this mystery.
God needs no wife or child; within His sightAll hidden things lie open, clear and bright.
Why turn from great ’ ancient way,Or ’ wisdom from an elder day?
They taught that the Creator rules alone,And righteous worship makes His glory known!
The pious priest recites his holy prayer,And holds the twigs with reverent care;
He tastes no water, though with thirst he bleed,Subduing nature to his sacred creed;
He trusts in God upon the battle day,Nor asks cold water in the deadly fray.
He turns in worship to the sacred fire,Above earth, air, and water rising higher.
Our Shahs barter no sacred faith for pay;They serve Yazdan, whom earth and heavens obey;
They prize not hoards of gems or golden store,Seeking through justice fame forevermore;
Then comes the warrior whose dust shall riseTo veil the sun in battle-darkened skies:
He shields the frontiers with his sword and spear,And holds the King of Kings, in vigil, dear.
He guards the land from foes with lawful might;The wise Shah asks for this, and deems it right.
For him who seeks in Faith what is not true,May curses fall upon him as his due.”
When Caesar heard, he praised the speech as wise;Its counsel brought new light before his eyes.
He said, “The Maker placed you high amongThe great; all men must heed your learned tongue.
You hold the key to secrets long concealed;Through you their hidden meaning stands revealed.
A king with such a servant may look downFrom heights above the moon’s resplendent crown.”
He gave him silver, gold, a crown, and said,“Through you may Iran thrive in years ahead!”
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In briefCaesar sends seventy thousand troops under his brother Niyatus and gives his daughter Maryam to Khosrow with an enormous dowry. He rides three stages with the train, charges Niyatus with her safety, and turns back weeping. Khosrow greets bride and legions with joy.
When learned the legions gathered near,And horsemen’s dust made heaven’s vault unclear,
Full seventy thousand chosen Roman spearsHe picked for war, seasoned through veteran years;
He ordered gold and chargers and display,Refusing longer to endure delay.
He had a daughter, by name,Wise, grave, resolved, and high in royal fame.
He gave her to the Shah by sacred rite,And prayed that God would bless their union bright.
took her in the royal way,And gave her to the Shah in due array.
He brought such bridal wealth, so great a load,That swift pack-beasts grew slow upon the road.
Gold ornaments and jewels fit to wear,Gemmed raiment, carpets costly, rich, and rare,
Roman brocade with golden patterns bright,On silk embroidered, wondrous to the sight,
Torques, bracelets, earrings, all of gold refined,Three diadems with jewels intertwined.
Four gilded litters, too, with curtained screensSewn thick with royal jewels, fit for queens.
And forty more of ebony were made,With jewel-bright designs across them laid.
Three hundred moon-faced maids came in her train,All fragrant, graceful, lovely, free from stain.
Five hundred slaves, alert, came in array,With gold and silver harness on display.
And forty Roman eunuchs, fair of face,Illustrious men, moved on with courtly grace.
Four philosophers of were sent,Wise, learned men in counsel eloquent.
He gave them their instructions, then apartAddressed fair Maryam with a father’s heart.
He spoke of rest, desire, and daily need,Of gifts and food, and seemliness in deed.
The bridal wealth was counted; its vast storeWas thrice a hundred million, even more.
To every envoy present in his courtHe gave rich robes and steeds of noble sort.
He gave them jeweled crowns and gold past count,And robes, and each a noble steed to mount.
He bade them write, “O servants, yours the rightTo raise your heads up to the moon’s own height.
No man more worthy, high or low in birth,Than Gostaham shall rise upon this earth.
What man like speaks with judgment clear,And mediates the counsels that we hear?
keeps secrets; nothing men can payWill make him sell the noble-born away.
And none who lives through many years shall knowA man like , wise in joy and woe.
God taught him mysteries no eye could find,And made his counsel sunlight to the mind.
Faultless as sunlight, all his deeds are bright;His works are godly, guided by the right.”
The star-reader was summoned to adviseWhen they should march beneath propitious skies.
On day great Caesar led the way,With happy omens blessing their array.
Three stages Caesar rode beside the train;The fourth, he halted there, and drew his rein.
He bade fair Maryam come and spoke at length,With tender counsel, fatherly in strength:
“Keep, dearest child, your girdle round your waistTill you reach Iran, guarded, pure, and chaste.
Let Khosrow never see your body bare,Lest some new matter take you unaware.”
He said farewell with tenderness and care:“May heaven shield you safely everywhere.”
Caesar had one brave brother, strong and wise,, honored under Roman skies.
He said, “Fair Maryam is your blood and race;In Faith and kinship, guard her life and grace.
I charge you with these legions and this wealth,With her fair safety, honor, peace, and health.”
Niyatus took the charge without delay;Then Caesar turned in tears and rode away.
The legions marched along the road ahead;With and sword, Niyatus rode and led.
When Khosrow heard the legions had arrived,He led his armed men out, his hopes revived.
When standards rose through dust across the plain,And riders clad in s came in train,
The legions came like clouds in iron bright,In helm and cuirass, terrible to sight.
His spirit bloomed like roses in the spring;New royal pride revived the warrior-king:
He spurred to meet Niyatus on the plain,Embracing him before the Roman train,
And poured forth praises on great Caesar’s name,Who sent such legions to redeem his fame!
Then joyful Khosrow, to the bride’s abode,Rode in, and there to Maryam’s presence strode.
He greeted her, and, kissing her soft hand,Rejoiced to see the bride from Caesar’s land.
He bore his Moon back to his royal tent,And there three days in talk with her he spent.
Upon the fourth, when Sol began to shine,They decked a chosen lodging, fair and fine.
He summoned , , Niyatus all,With great and lesser chiefs into the hall.
He asked, “Which chiefs among these men todayCan wield the gorz and sword in war’s array?”
Then Niyatus chose seventy chiefs of might,Each set above a thousand men in fight.
surveyed that chosen throng,The noble horsemen, keen for war, and strong.
He praised the Maker of the earth and sky,Who turns both time and heaven wheeling high.
He praised Niyatus and the troops he led,And Caesar and his realm, so widely spread.
Then said, “If mighty God shall aid my fight,The world shall see the measure of my might.
I shall make earth a sea where jewels gleam,My gifts shall flow among you like a stream.
You will rejoice that you have joined my cause,Your tongues, once silent, now shall voice applause.
Let thoughts of friends alone within us flower,With heaven our friend, and noble love our bower.”
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In briefKhosrow musters at Duk, gives the legions to Niyatus, and rides toward Khanjast, where he finds Bandvi alive and Mawsil of Armenia waiting. He hears how Bandvi escaped, rewards Mawsil, prays at the fire of Azargashasp, and returns to camp as Nimruz’s troops arrive.
Upon the seventh day, the Shah arrayedHis troops, with all their royal might displayed.
It seemed the turning sky had taken form;The court resounded with the tymbal-storm.
The air grew black with dust the horsemen made,As ranks of warriors gathered in parade.
He chose a freeborn force and set his faceToward ’s wide embrace.
Two weeks passed by, while at the Shah’s commandFresh troops arrived in camp, a mighty band.
Upon ’s plain his royal tent was spread,Amid the mighty force that he had led.
He gave the legions to ’ hand:“All troops are yours to lead across the land.”
Then with some courageous horsemen he rode;His swift steed carried him along the road.
He took the road toward that day,And rode with gladdened heart along the way.
There camped, a lord among the great,’s chief, a man of high estate.
, the Shah’s own uncle, shared his train,A kinsman trusted, loyal to his reign.
When these two heard that Khosrow stirred again,They left their camp and rode to meet him then.
When Khosrow saw two horsemen on the way,He turned to and had his say:
“O warrior, two men hurry through the field;Ride out; see who they are, what haste may yield.”
He answered, “King, unless my eyes mislead,My brother Bandvi rides the piebald steed.
That other rider is not one we know;Yet both come swiftly where the dust clouds blow.”
The Shah replied, “What hope of him remains?If still alive, he must be held in chains.
If dead, his body on the gibbet sways,Within the public square, before men’s gaze.”
Said Gostaham, “Regard him well, O king;That is your uncle whom the roads now bring.
If I am wrong, let death fall over me;No other man could wear the face I see.”
The two dismounted in that shaded place,Approached, and bowed before his farr-bright face.
They praised him deeply, made obeisance low;The Shah gave Bandvi welcome after woe.
“I thought,” he told him, “earth had claimed your breath,And you lay buried in the dust of death.”
Bandvi recounted all his sore dismay,And how the Shah’s own robe led foes astray.
He told how granted him his grace,And how he fled from that most deadly place.
The Shah wept greatly as the tale was told,Then asked, “Who is this man that I behold?”
Bandvi replied, “O sun-faced Shah, be kind:Does Mawsil find no welcome in your mind?
Since you left Iran for the Roman land,He knew no settled peace on any hand.
His palace was the tent beneath the sky;He waited for your face with watchful eye.
He has great troops, with ample arms supplied,And gold and treasure he has set aside.”
Then Khosrow said to Mawsil, “Can your toilLie hidden, and your service earn no spoil?
We shall repay your days with joy and fame,And set among the greatest your good name.”
Mawsil replied, “Give me new life, O king;Let me approach your stirrup now and bring
My homage to your .” Khosrow replied,“Your toil and words shall swell your treasure’s tide.
I shall fulfill your wish and raise your nameAbove the great in dignity and fame.”
He drew one foot out; Mawsil, full of awe,Kissed foot and stirrup of the Shah he saw.
When that devoted liege was satisfied,The Shah bade him remount and onward ride.
Across the barren plain the monarch rodeTo ’s shrine, the Fire’s abode.
With murmured prayer and aching heart he cameWhere burned the fire-temple’s sacred flame.
A priest approached, the borne;The pious Shah stood humbled and careworn.
He loosed the golden belt upon his waist,And jewels on the sacred Fire he placed.
He cried beyond the priest in grief profound:“Just Judge, bring all my foes’ heads to the ground.
You know I plead with justice and intendTo walk the path of good until the end.
Do not approve the wrong the wicked do.”He bound his golden belt when he was through.
He turned to Duk, grief lodged within his breast,And reached his camp when night had quenched the west.
He sent alert and seasoned scouts to seeHow matters stood, and what the news might be.
When heard the Shah was near their ground,The s on elephants were bound.
The earth seemed like the Nile; their hearts grew strong;They came to aid the Shah, a mighty throng.
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In briefBahram writes secretly to Khosrow’s chiefs, urging them to abandon the Sasanian line. His envoy, disguised as a merchant, sees Khosrow’s strength and hands the letters over. Khosrow forges encouraging replies, and Bahram, deceived, ignores his elders and marches to Azar Abadagan.
When heard that Khosrow’s royal lightHad shone anew, with kingly Fortune bright,
He fixed his eyes upon a trusted man,A soldier chosen for his secret plan.
, wise, famed, and full of art,Had served Bahram with faith and loyal heart.
He called a noted scribe and gave commandTo write grave letters through Iranian land.
He bade them write to men of warlike fame: and , both chiefs of name.
To , warrior of renowned degree,Whose fame was known wherever chiefs could be.
To brave and beside,And all in whom true greatness could abide.
“I seek the Maker’s blessing evermore,And in my secret heart His grace implore.
Awake; let evil lead you not astray;Let wisdom guide the counsels of the day.
Since first the line ascended,Its kings in pride and greed have all contended.
, sprung from , first arose,And filled the world with conflict and with woes.
His scimitar cast shadow on his age,And dazed the great with warfare, wrath, and rage.
First call to mind and the brave,Whose names have vanished with them in the grave.
Their absence is the throne’s enduring grief;Gone are their names, and gone each noble chief.
You heard what , with his wicked will,Brought on , and how he served him ill.
He freed Qobad from fetters, grief, and woe;Qobad repaid him as a mortal foe.
When treacherous Qobad at last grew strong,He cast all virtue off and turned to wrong.
He slew that famed and faithful ,And filled with grief the nobles of Iran.
Who spurns his child and kin for passion’s sakeWill keep no faith with strangers; trust will break.
None seeks ivory in ebony’s grain,Nor rubies in red willow; both are vain.
Do not put trust in the Sasanian throne;Their stock can yield no ruby of its own.
When this my letter finds you in your place,May holy ’s light heart and face.
You hold a splendid station in my sight;To me your worth is manifest and bright.
The breast and sleeves are one within the shirt;So are our hearts in Fortune, joy, and hurt.
Come all to me; by darkness or by day,Rest here as one; my gloom will pass away.
I do not fear the Romans or their king;Their throne beneath my feet I mean to bring.”
They sealed the letters with Bahram’s own seal;He dressed for trade, his purpose to conceal.
In haste he came where Khosrow held his court,With caravan and wares of every sort.
He carried letters, gifts, and presents too,All veiled beneath a trader’s outward view.
He marked that grandeur and that mighty train,And saw no passage through the crowded plain.
“Who,” thought he, “seeing such a king stand tall,Would seek Bahram’s protection now at all?
I am from Iran, free from foe and care;Full thirty camel-loads of goods I bear.
Why bring destruction on myself, when ISee from the pit such majesty rise high?
These letters to the Shah I shall convey,A novel gift, and tell him what they say.”
Perturbed, he came before the Shah with allThe hostile gifts and letters from that hall.
He brought the silver, gifts, and letters sealed,And to the Shah their messages revealed.
The Shah read all the letters brought that day,Then bade him on a golden seat to stay.
He said, “O man of wisdom, you should knowThat in my eyes Bahram stands mean and low.
You have attained your end; seek no acclaim,Nor strive in this affair for further fame.”
He called a scribe; false letters were prepared,As though the chiefs themselves their minds declared:
“Your letters reached us; we have weighed each word,We gave your envoy place, his message heard.
In outward speech we fight for Khosrow’s claim,But in our hearts you are new spring and flame.
When you have led your army to the field,Who then will count the Romans or their shield?
We will draw scimitars and strike them low,And make their blood upon the battlefield flow.
When Khosrow sees your troops and hears your name,He will behold your prowess and your fame.
His heart will quail upon the battle-day,And like a fox he will be chased away.”
He sealed the letters, gave them to that chief,And spoke of toil that would bring sweet relief:
“For this your conduct, sage, you shall have fruit;Your toil shall flower from a faithful root.”
He gave him jewels, gems, and shining gold,Rewards whose worth could scarcely all be told.
“Take these replies to Chubin; let him hearAll you have heard,” he said, “and make it clear.
You shall lack nothing when my Fortune grows,And when my crown again in splendor shows.”
Dara Panah departed from the court,Swift as the wind, to carry his report.
The youth fulfilled his charge without delay;He gave the letters, told what he must say.
When that ambitious chief had read the lines,Greed rose and drove out wisdom’s sound designs.
Deceived by their replies, he raised his band;Amazement spread throughout Iran’s broad land.
The elders saw his blindness and drew near,And spoke to him with words of warning clear:
“Do not depart; this day, so fresh and bright,Will soon grow old if you march out to fight.
If Khosrow comes, then nothing meets our sightBut and scimitar in vengeful might.
Do not break faith for royal pomp and pride;Time blinds you, then becomes your reckless guide.”
Their words were vain; he called his troops to horse,Packed baggage; s proclaimed the course.
That freeborn force of Iran onward cameTo , bright with fame.
The armies closed; so dense their masses grew,No ant or fly could thread a passage through.
Bahram said, “I would scan their full array,And learn who rides for in war’s display.”
The chiefs, with , took their way;And, with , rode to survey.
They viewed the troops, then turned back from the line,And told their chief, “Their countless ranks combine
In numbers past our reckoning; their arrayExceeds what all our thoughts could weigh today.”
The Roman horsemen hastened to the king,Eager for war and all that it might bring.
They girded up their loins and cried, “We yearnTo fight Iran and make their forces turn.”
The Shah agreed to grant the Roman plea,And gave consent that battle there should be.
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In briefThe armies meet. Bahram kills the Roman champion Kut in single combat and sends the split body back; Khosrow laughs, and Niyatus rebukes him. A Roman charge is destroyed, the dead heaped into a hill called Bahram-chid, and Khosrow gives the next day’s fighting to Iranians.
When Sol rose over shadowed hills, the cryOf war from both great forces rose on high.
The earth appeared a vast revolving wheel,While swords eclipsed the sun with blades of steel.
The troops drew up to left and right in might;Earth seemed an iron mountain to the sight.
At neighing steeds and all the battle-cries,The desert sought a path toward mountain skies.
When brave then saw the field,He drew his glaive and would not fear or yield.
Though raging lions’ hearts were split in two,His own stayed firm in all he meant to do.
He went himself to view the left and right,To spoke before the fight:
“Take center; lead the troops into the fray;I am the fighter of our force today.
Though all should flee, I shall not run away;When others turn, I am the one to stay.”
Khosrow surveyed the battlefield around,And saw the world by armies blackened, bound.
The bright sun’s face was darkened, grim and raw;The clouds seemed raining swords on all he saw.
Then , , came,And joined the Shah above the battle-flame.
Upon Mount those leaders took their stand,And watched the troops who served at their command.
The Shah surveyed his troops on left and right,The center and the wings prepared to fight.
The tymbals sounded out from either side;The eager warriors moved in battle-pride.
The earth appeared to be an iron hill,And heaven faced the earth with hostile will.
He saw the battle woven in his sight:Earth warp, and heaven weft, throughout the fight.
He prayed in : “O God most pure,O higher than the high, whose truths endure,
O holy Judge, who but Yourself can knowWhich side today exulting back shall go?
The spear of one whose Fortune fails in needIs no more strong than thorn or withered weed.”
Khosrow was full of anguish at the sight;The world seemed one great thicket in the fight.
Then from the troops came in dressed,Dark as a hill, hard, hale, with iron breast.
He broke from center, climbed the height, and cried:“Illustrious king, show me that slave in pride.
Point out the doer of the ’s dark deed,The man before whom you once fled at speed.
You fought and fled while he stood crowned with fame;Now I shall teach him battle’s proper game.
Look through the army, left and right, and showWhere stands that chief among the ranks below.
Let him behold how men of courage fight,And learn their mettle in the clash of might.”
The Shah, remembering his former flight,Was vexed at heart beneath the Roman’s slight.
Kut’s taunt, “You fled a slave and cast asideYour arms,” had stung the Shah’s offended pride.
He gave no answer, stunned by bitter pain,Until he spoke with anger held in rein:
“Approach that rider on the piebald steed;He will attack when he perceives your speed.
Then do not flee, lest shame should make you biteYour lips before the army’s watching sight.”
Kut sped back like the wind with spear in hand,A maddened elephant, he stormed the land.
Then Yalan-sina warned, his meaning clear:“Brave rider, guard yourself; the Div draws near.
A Div with lance in hand has come this way,His at the saddle, primed for fray.”
drew sword, with fury in his mind,Proclaimed his name, and left all fear behind.
The Shah rose on the mountain’s lofty brow,Wet-eyed and angry, watching what came now.
The Roman charged with lance; Bahram held fast,And let the thrusting spear go harmless past.
Behind his shield, Bahram struck neck and head,And split him to the breast; the steel ran red.
The sword-clash reached Khosrow upon the height;He laughed to see Bahram’s tremendous might.
But valiant Niyatus grew blind with ire,Because the Shah had smiled amid the fire.
He said, “Great king, one should not laugh in war,When vengeance is the goal you labor for.
To you, war is but alchemy and art;Ancestral vengeance sleeps within your heart.
In or Iran none will see againA man like Kut Hazara, first of men.
You laugh because he met his death today;Know that your Fortune now has turned away.”
Khosrow replied, “I laughed not at the dead,Nor at the blood his fatal wound had shed.
Who mocks another’s fall shall surely knowThe turning sky will strike him blow for blow.
Kut said to me, ‘You fled before a slave,And lacked the prowess of the truly brave.’
Yet flight before this slave of matchless mightBrings no disgrace to one who leaves the fight.”
Then Bahram cried, “O chiefs of glorious birth,Yalan-sina, Ram, whose names have worth,
And , bind this Roman dead,And send him back upon his horse,” he said.
“Send him to camp, his cleft flesh plain to view,That his own Shah may see him split in two.”
They bound the corpse securely to the seat;The charger bore it back with iron feet.
Then Khosrow grieved for Kut among the dead;His joy had vanished, sorrow bowed his head.
They loosed the tight kamand that bound the slain,And laid the body out upon the plain.
They filled the wound with musk; the body dried,They sewed it in a shroud on every side.
His jowshan on, his waist was girdled fast;They sent him back to at the last.
The message ran: “Behold this slave in fight,And see how sharply his sword’s edge can bite.
If with his scimitar he strikes this way,I bear no shame for having fled that day.”
The Romans, heartbroken before they fought,Were sorely stricken by that bitter thought.
The patrician wept in bitter woe;The warriors’ spirits sank before the foe.
Ten thousand mighty men advanced as one,Both prelates and horsemen beneath the sun.
They charged so fiercely that the hills were splitBy cries and blows as and sword-strokes hit.
The sea seemed boiling in the battle’s throes;The heavens thundered at the clashing foes.
The troops were blocked and sundered by the slain;A Roman legion fell upon the plain.
Khosrow, in grief, had every wound well dressed,For Rum’s slain champions grief oppressed his breast.
They piled the dead into a mountain’s height,And called it , a dreadful sight.
Khosrow abandoned hope in Rum that day;He said, “If twice more Rum should fight this way,
No Roman legions will be left to wieldTheir swords; count steel as wax upon the field.”
He told , “Let Rum’s worn troops take rest;Tomorrow Iran’s men shall meet the test.”
To Iran’s men he said, “No more delay;Tomorrow, arm at dawn in war’s array.”
They answered, “We shall do as you command,And fill with blood the hills and desert land.”
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In briefBahram’s elephant is shot from under him and he fights on foot. Khosrow rides out with fourteen chosen men, who scatter; chased into a blind cave, he prays and is carried to safety by Soroush. Bahram, seeing it, despairs of his fortune, and Khosrow renews the battle.
When day’s white banner rose above the main,The stars lost hope of darkness and its reign.
The drummers left both camp-enclosures then,With elephants and s before men.
The horns gave voice; from elephants on high,The brazen s boomed to the sky.
The plains and uplands seemed to heave and shake;The sun grew raven-black amid the quake.
The Iranians formed ranks and grasped their spears,And Indian swords flashed bright against their fears.
The earth appeared one cuirass, hard and bright;The spearheads kindled stars with points of light.
When Khosrow set the center in array,The troops took heart and stood prepared that day.
, the valiant, held the army’s right,A chief of name and practiced arm in fight.
Upon the left, an Armenian of mightStood jowshan-clad like ’s dark blight.
and stood close and grim,And drew their s tight on trunk and limb.
Close to the Shah, to ward him from all harm,Stood faithful with ready arm.
When brave surveyed the plain,And saw no Romans there in warlike train,
He paused in silence; then he gave commandThat tabiras on elephants should stand.
The world grew indigo beneath that cloud;The dust rose thick; the tabiras rang loud.
The elephant he rode was huge and white;The foe despaired to see that beast of might.
He drove his elephant toward the right,And called Shapur before the troops in sight:
“O knave, your secret note declared you mine;Why do you stand in Khosrow’s battle-line?
This is no custom known in Iran’s land:To pledge support, then raise a hostile hand.
You have betrayed yourself and now are ledTo offer up your body to the dead.”
Shapur replied, “You Div-like man, beware;A slave, you raise your head with haughty air.
Whose name and token did that letter hold,Of which you speak before these nobles bold?”
Then mighty Khosrow said aloud to him,“That letter matched his plot in purpose grim.
For that same letter, recompense is dueFrom me and all these noble chiefs to you.
In proper season I shall make it clear,And purge the doubt that stains your honor here.”
heard Khosrow’s words and knew the snare;Wrath seized his heart; his shame blazed to a flare.
In fury he would fight without his men,The usurper trusted sword and strength again.
Upon his elephant he charged the heartOf Khosrow’s center, breaking rank apart.
The Shah to Andiyan cried, “Lion of might,Make bows a storm and darken all his sight.
Pour arrows on that elephant like rain;Make springtime clouds of bows across the plain.”
Iran’s men, blessed by Fortune, strung their bows,And arrow-clouds flew thick against their foes.
The elephant’s trunk was riddled through and through;Its wounds had turned its hide to indigo-blue.
Bahram, down from his wounded beast, decreedA helm, and kingly arms, and a fresh steed.
The arrows showered on his horse like rain;His fury mounted on the battle plain.
The warrior left his horse, his sword in hand,And tucked his mail-skirt high, prepared to stand.
He raised his shield above his lowered head,And brought Doomsday among the ranks that fled.
The foe dropped bows of and fled in fear,While none would dare to meet or draw him near.
They brought a horse; he mounted, mad with rage,And stormed once more, a lion freed from cage.
He charged the Shah through ranks of iron might;Through dust and blood he broke them in the fight.
The royal standard vanished from the sight;Confusion spread through center, left, and right.
Then to the right he turned, his purpose clear,And left the noble warriors in his rear.
There Gordvi held command and challenged death,Ambitious, valiant, fierce in every breath.
When he beheld his brother in the fray,He strung his bow and barred the battle-way.
The blood-stained brothers clashed with all their might;They seemed entwined, so close they pressed the fight.
For long they strove, and neither yielded ground;The clash of kin and sword rang all around.
Then Bahram cried, “You villain, would you standTo spill your brother’s blood with your own hand?”
Gordvi replied, “Mottled wolf, have you heardThe weight of this remembered, piercing word:
A brother who is friend is heaven-sent;If turned to foe, let skin and vein be rent.
You hate the Maker in your wicked heart;From goodness and from honor you depart.
No man of honor seeks his brother’s death,Or fights to rob him of his living breath.”
Bahram, on hearing this, withdrew in rage,With burning wrath from that most bitter stage.
Gordvi, with face as dark as jowshan-scale,Went to the Shah, whose heart had feared to fail.
Khosrow received him lovingly and said,“May turning heaven reward your heart and head.”
The Shah then moved toward center, where his menWere reeling from the blow of war again.
He sent Shapur: “Help in the fight;Stand back to back, and strive for Fortune bright.”
Meanwhile the king to Gostaham made plain:“If ’s legions should share the battle’s pain,
Then when Bahram is wounded or is crushed,They will lift heads to heaven, triumph-flushed.
I would not let the Romans grow too proud,Or boast above us openly and loud.
I have observed their prowess; now I knowThey are a winter flock before the snow.
With few companions I shall make my stand,And challenge Chubin there, hand against hand.
I trust in God, the Succorer in strife;I seek no other aid to guard my life.”
Then Gostaham said, “King, do not desireTo cast your precious life in battle-fire.
But if your purpose will not change or bend,Choose trusted comrades, ready to defend.”
Khosrow replied, “Your counsel has been good;Choose from the army those who well have stood.”
Then Gostaham selected from the throngFourteen Iranian riders, brave and strong.
He wrote himself first on the chosen roll,A warrior practiced, firm of hand and soul.
Then brave Shapur and Andiyan were named,With , Gordvi, each in battle famed.
He chose ; he took,And , whose great courage never shook.
Zangwi would face a lion without fear,Or raging elephant that ventured near.
as well, a helper in the fight,A mortal foe to ’s might.
Then Khosrow, , were named besideThose chosen men, whose worth was known and tried.
And , a warrior rare,Whose stroke made foemen flee in wild despair.
and blessed formed the pairBefore whom enemies were grass laid bare.
Their chief was Gostaham, in battle tried;Thus fourteen chosen warriors stood allied.
With them he hurried from the army’s post,To follow Khosrow where the risk was most.
Khosrow addressed those chiefs: “My noble men,Look now to God, and smile in heart again.
Take heart; no deed can happen where we areExcept as He decrees by hidden .
While this old sky above us still endures,His word alone decides what fate assures.
Better to perish fighting in the fieldThan let a slave command and make us yield.
You are my bodyguard within the fray;When I move out, I shall not pause or stay.”
They blessed him, hailed him king beneath the crown,And vowed that none would leave or let him down.
The monarch heard, and all his heart revived;With those brave warriors, hope and joy survived.
To Bahram Farrokh he entrusted allHis troops, then rode with fourteen at his call.
Then from a lookout sudden shouts arose;They told Bahram, “A troop comes from our foes.”
That watchful aspirant sprang on his steed,His strapped, his sword already freed.
When from the height he saw their ordered line,He chose three warriors, battle-tried and fine.
He told Yalan-sina, “That proud foeHas proved himself a hardy man, I know.
Now I know none but he would dare to rideUpon this field of vengeance, pride to pride.
He comes attended by a troop so small,As if to face the dread and fall.
No more than twenty riders come this way;Who any of them are, I cannot say.”
To Yalan-sina and he spoke:“True valor cannot hide beneath a cloak.
Four of us will suffice, for Fortune’s handIs friendlier to me than Khosrow’s band.”
He gave the army to by name,Who loved night’s gloom more than the daylight’s flame.
Then he rode forth with those three wary men,A little storm of battle came again.
When Khosrow saw Bahram Chubin draw near,He told his comrades, “Let no heart know fear.
A troop has come, but this is my command:Leave vile Bahram to my and hand.
Let me deal with his person in the fight;You face his chiefs and show Iran’s true might.
You fourteen stand against his chosen three;May none of you behold defeat or flee.”
But and Roman soldiers rose,And from the field went up to watch the foes.
They climbed the heights and watched the troops below,And cried, “Why stake the crown on one man’s throw?
Why barter life for crown upon the plain,When many horses and brave troops remain?”
They raised their hands to heaven, all in dread,Believing Khosrow numbered with the dead.
Bahram charged forth, his chosen men beside,Khosrow’s companions trembled, terrified.
Yalan-sina and Gashasp spedWith fierce Bahram, and cries of battle spread.
The comrades of took flight;The wolf had fallen on a flock in fright.
Those nobles, full of wrath, were overthrown;They saw the fierce ’s strength too clearly shown.
Yet Bandvi, Gordvi, and Gostaham stayedBeside the Shah when all the rest had strayed.
With prayer to God, hard-pressed within the fray,Khosrow at last turned back his steed away.
Izad Gashasp pressed hard upon his trail;The Shah felt doom descend and courage fail.
“My fate has come. What madness in my headMade me court Doomsday and approach the dead?
The folk have seen my back in open flight;How shall I bear this shame before their sight?”
Then Gostaham said, “Horsemen now draw near;Why should you fight alone and perish here?”
The Shah looked back and saw Bahram give chase,With three men bent on war, who kept his pace.
To save himself, he cut his charger freeOf its black , and turned to flee.
Two riders lagged behind him on the track;His vengeful foe came howling at his back.
A narrow cave confronted him ahead;Behind came three fierce warriors, battle-bred.
The mountain blocked its end; no troops stood near,And no man raised a shield to guard his rear.
That glorious youth dismounted there to scaleThe stony heights on foot along the trail.
His path was blocked; his heart was sore with dread;He could not stay, could not advance ahead.
Bahram cried, “Trickster, now your heights descend;Your lofty rise has reached its downward end.
Why charge at me, your death upon your back?You bore it on your shoulders to attack.”
Then, trapped between the sword that pressed him hardAnd mountain rocks before, his passage barred,
The Shah cried, “Maker, high above time’s wheel,Reach out in this distress; hear my appeal.
With You, I need not raise a pleading cryTo Saturn or to Mercury on high.”
Before that prayer had wholly left his breath, appeared and saved him out of death.
Robed green, he rode upon a snow-white steed,And strength returned to Khosrow in his need.
He grasped the prince’s hand; for God Most HighCan work such wonders underneath the sky;
And bore him safely from the hostile band,Then set him down and freed his clasped right hand.
Khosrow, by turns both speaking and in tears,Asked, “What is your name?” amid his fears.
“Soroush. Now safe, be free of grief and fear;You shall be king; your sovereign days draw near.
Be holy in your conduct and your way.”He spoke, then vanished from the light of day.
No mortal eye had seen so strange a sign;Bahram beheld and called on power divine.
He said, “May courage never leave my breastWhile mortal warriors put my strength to test.
But now that powers unseen oppose my might,I mourn my clouded fortune in this fight.”
Then pain filled Bahram, sorrow bowed his head;He rued his deeds and all the strife he led.
Upon the mountainside Niyatus prayedThat God would keep Khosrow from harm and blade.
And tore her cheeks in grief and dreadFor her crowned husband, whom she feared was dead.
The troops filled mountain, valley, plain, and height;The Romans’ hearts were scorched by grief and fright.
Niyatus drew her golden litter near:“Sit here; the Shah is dead, or so I fear.”
But on the mountain’s farther side, awayFrom all the troops, Khosrow appeared that day.
The Roman ranks rejoiced to see him stand,And Maryam’s grief released its bitter hand.
He came to her and told what he had seen,Then spoke to ’s daughter, still his queen:
“The righteous Judge has shown His justice bright;No sloth or cowardice compelled my flight.
For cowards show their weakness in the fight;I stood alone within that mountain height.
Alone within the cave, beset by care,I called upon the Maker in my prayer.
And He who orders all beneath the skiesRevealed His hidden purpose to my eyes.
Not , nor , nor of old,Nor dreamed what I behold.”
He told the chiefs, “The vision I beheldForetells my throne restored, the rebel felled.
Renew the battle; bear my name in mind,And press the foe, and leave all fear behind.”
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In briefBahram’s arrow, Khosrow’s spear and Khosrow’s sword all fail in single combat. That night Bandvi sends a herald between the armies proclaiming pardon, and by dawn the tents across the plain stand empty. Bahram loads three thousand camels with his treasure and rides away.
The troops came down from high ground to the fight;The horsemen’s dust made black the face of light.
advanced his army to the fray;No light remained within the dust-dark day.
He said, “Whoever leads a fighting bandNeeds wit and courage, means at his command.
The brave have seen the darts my hands have thrown;My ’s true nature they have known.
They chose me over kings; I shall bring shameUpon great ’s royal name.”
He rushed in reckless haste before the king,And strung his bow, prepared the shaft to fling.
He loosed an arrow at the Shah; it stayedCaught at his waist within the rich brocade.
The point hung slantwise; then a slave drew nearAnd pulled it free; the Shah charged with his spear.
The Shah then thrust his spear against his foe;It struck the belt where rings did show.
The spearhead snapped, yet still the rebel quailed;Though belt and jowshan held, his courage failed.
The Shah grew angry when his spear gave way;His sword struck on Bahram’s helm in the fray.
The sword-blade shattered with that mighty blow,And lodged within the helmet of his foe.
All those who saw and heard the iron ringRaised cries of praise around the fighting king.
The nobles followed where Khosrow had led,And shattered all the army ranged ahead.
Then came before the Shah and cried,“O crown whose height outsoars the moon in pride,
These troops, like ants and locusts, now are spread,Across the sand and rocky desert bed.
No Shah should spill their blood in reckless strife,Or fight his slave to take that servant’s life.
Better that they appeal to us for graceThan fall or suffer wounds within this place.”
Khosrow replied, “I seek no vengeance hereOn those who turn from wrong; they need not fear.
I grant them grace; they shall not be cast down,But ornaments of glory for my crown.”
Night’s flag rose dark above the hills on high;Both armies drew back as the light passed by.
The sentries challenged, bells rang through the deep;The troops that night had little share of sleep.
Bandvi, resolved, went out across the plain,And chose a herald from the martial train.
He bade the clear-voiced herald mount and ride,And let his proclamation travel wide.
He rode between the armies, near the foe;The herald cried so every rank would know:
“O slaves who sinned and seek your fortune’s light,You worst offenders, famed for deeds in fight:
For God’s sake, he forgives each one of you,Your hidden crimes and those in public view.”
The sound went through the darkness, loud and clear;Each listener turned an attentive ear.
’s chiefs prepared for flight,And fastened on their belts that very night.
When sun rose up and day on hilltops shone,The tents across the plain were left alone.
Bahram knew nothing of the night’s events;Only his friends remained among the tents.
He passed among the tents and told his train,“Far better flight than Doomsday on this plain.”
Three thousand camels he called forth; they strainedBeneath his wealth, and all his camp contained.
They packed his clothes and carpets for the load,With gold and silver treasures for the road.
His ivory throne, gold torque and armlets bright,And crown were loaded ready for the flight.
When all was loaded, he prepared to go,And mounted, set to turn back from the foe.
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In briefNastooh gives chase. Bahram, resting at an old woman’s hut, is served barley bread on a sieve and wine in a gourd, and hears from her what the world thinks of him. He fires a reed-bed, takes Nastooh, spares him, and rides on by Rey to the Khan.
When bright Sol raised his royal throne on high,The Shah sent scouts beneath the morning sky.
They found the chieftain’s tent stripped bare and cold,No soldier left within its empty fold.
The scouts returned and told of ’s flight;Khosrow grew troubled by that man of might.
He chose three thousand horsemen for the chase,In s, steeds in , in place.
He bade mount and pursue the foe;The warrior girt himself, prepared to go.
Nastooh rode on, his heart weighed down with pain,Yet was no match for Bahram on the plain.
Bahram meanwhile had no secure retreat;He led his troops off-road on anxious feet.
He kept his silver and his gold close by,And crossed the barren land beneath the sky.
and rodeAlong one flank as on the army flowed.
They led the troops off-road through country vast,And told old tales of Shahs from ages past.
A humble hamlet stood beside the way,Where no great chief would ever choose to stay.
Bahram rode on ahead of all his men;Remorse and sorrow filled his mind again.
When thirst had parched their mouths, they sought and foundAn aging woman’s house on humble ground.
In courteous words they asked for drink and bread;She brought an ancient sieve and on it spread
A piece of waterskin, and on it laidThe barley bread, a humble meal she made.
Yalan-sina gave for the prayer;Bahram forgot the words in his despair.
They ate, then asked for wine to crown the board;The woman said she had a little hoard.
“I have an ancient gourd, its top cut through;I made a cup and set it here for you.”
Bahram replied, “Then fill that rustic cup;No finer vessel could be lifted up.”
She fetched the wine; he drank and was content,And to the crone a brimming portion sent.
“Take cheer too, gracious mother; tell me, say,What tidings move the world about today?”
“My brain is worn,” she said, “from all I hear;Today men came from town; their news was clear.
They said Bahram’s troops joined the Shah instead;Their chief escaped without them when he fled.”
He asked, “Did Bahram act as wisdom taught,Or choose the pleasure his desires had sought?”
She said, “Famed man, has so dimmed your sightThat truth itself is hidden from your light?
Since Bahram, son of , spurred his steed,The wise have laughed to see his reckless deed.
He rode against Khosrow, ’s own son;No place among the chiefs has Bahram won.”
Bahram replied, “If longing brought him here,Then let this gourd of wine supply his cheer.
Keep barley bread upon this sieve, well heaped,Before him till the barley crop is reaped.”
That night he lay there in his tunic dressed,His cuirass underneath his shoulder pressed.
Sleep came not near; no rest would ease his heart;Vain longings pierced him like a poisoned dart.
When Sol in heaven made all secrets clear,He bade the sound; all could hear.
He gathered what remained of all his men,And those high nobles set their course again.
They came upon a reed-bed by the way,Where many people cut the reeds that day.
When they saw Bahram’s armed array draw near,They cried, “God bless you, but take warning here.
Why take this reed-bed route? Beyond you standA mass of troops with blood on every hand.”
Bahram replied, “Those must be horsemen sentBy Khosrow, on our capture now intent.
I heard, when we prepared to leave our place,That Khosrow chose Nastooh to give us chase.
Ambitious but unfit, he leads the bandOf three thousand mailed horsemen through the land.
His days shall end when he appears in sight;Surround this grove, and draw your girths up tight.”
The riders tightened girths and swords they drew,Then fired the reed-bed where the wild smoke flew.
The reeds blazed up; the force was overturned;Some men were slain, and other men were burned.
Bahram perceived Nastooh and gave his steedThe rein, and thundered forward at full speed.
He cast his , dragged him from his horse;They bound his helpless hands with iron force.
Nastooh begged quarter: “Mighty chief, show grace;Have pity on my ruined, helpless case.
Spare me, and I shall serve you, poor and low,A wretched beggar, running where you go.”
Bahram replied, “I shall not take your head;A man like you should shun this field instead.
To kill so small a man would bring me shame;Such deeds disgrace a ’s good name.
When you are free, to Khosrow make it knownWhat you have seen of me, what I have shown.”
Nastooh then kissed the earth and praised him long;To Bahram rode, with his comrades strong.
He stayed and rested there, then rode away,And hastened to the Khan without delay.
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In briefKhosrow gives Bahram’s camp to his troops, prays in the thorny dust, and writes his victory to Caesar. Caesar returns a crown, gold and priestly vestments sewn with jeweled crosses. Khosrow fears both wearing them and refusing them, and wears them on his counselor’s advice.
surveyed the battleground,And shared the plunder of the camp around:
To ’s allied legions he gave first share,Then cheered Iran’s worn warriors from despair.
He mounted his swift horse and rode to pray;A tract of thorny ground lay on his way.
Afoot he entered where the thorns were spread,And rolled in dust before his God, and said:
“O righteous Judge, You put the foe to flight,And freed our land; I bow before Your might.
Your mercy passed all bounds that thought could frame;I am Your slave, devoted to Your name.
Worthless am I before Your high command;I bow to all that You in wisdom planned.”
He then returned; his guide before him came,And he called forth a practiced scribe of fame.
He bade him write on silk to ’s court,To tell of war and Heaven’s own support.
He first praised God, from whom his prowess grew,His Fortune, and the skill that saw him through.
Then said, “In secret God upheld my way;I reached with my array.
My foe rushed out to meet me in the fight,And pressed me hard with all his battle-might.
But holy God gave him no helping hand;Without that help, his war could never stand.
The burning blast of battle died away;Bereft of troops, he fled at break of day.
We broke his troops and burned his camp outright;By God’s command, I barred his path of flight.”
They set the Shah’s seal on the silken page,And envoys bore it onward stage by stage.
They reached the court of Caesar, famed and bright,Whose Fortune woke beneath auspicious light.
He read, and stepped down from his royal seat,And cried to God, whose power is all-complete:
“O changeless Guide, through You Your servant won;You raise the fallen when their strength is done.”
He lavished alms and food in heavy loads,Then wrote a reply to speed along the roads.
His answer bloomed, a tree in Paradise,With praise to God, the just, the great, the wise:
“In God’s name, Lord of every and right,Of moon and sun, of day and sovereign might,
From Him all greatness and good Fortune flow;While life endures, your thanks to Him must go.
In public and in private, be the same;Let justice and good deeds adorn your name.”
He sent a crown, an heirloom long renowned,Reserved until a worthy hour was found.
With earrings, royal torque, and robes gold-scrolled,One hundred sixty garments, fold on fold.
And thirty camel-loads of minted gold,With pearls and rubies, more than could be told.
A golden crucifix with gems arrayed,A green robe where gold crosses were displayed:
Four Roman sages brought these gifts in hand,To honor Christ within the Iranian land.
Khosrow dispatched a thousand noble horseTo meet the Roman envoys on their course.
They reached him safely with the gifts displayed;He read, and marveled at the wealth conveyed.
He told his minister, “These robes they bearAre jeweled garments Rum’s chief prelates wear.
They are not robes that worldly nobles don,But sacred vestments priests alone put on.
If jeweled crosses deck my royal dress,It will seem Christian faith that I profess.
Yet if I do not wear them, Caesar’s mindWill misconstrue the heart he hoped to find.
But if I wear them, nobles may complain,‘The king turns Christian for his love of gain.’”
His counselor replied, “O Shah, take care:The robes a man puts on no creed declare.
Though you are bound to Caesar, still you holdThe Faith the prophet taught of old.”
He donned the cross-marked robe; the crown hung down,As Rum’s glad envoys praised his high renown;
Yet Iran’s grandees and sighed,And murmured at the sight, dissatisfied:
“The Shah has cast the ancient Faith aside,And wears the Christian cross in shameful pride!”
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In briefAt the victory feast Khosrow, dressed in Roman robes, murmurs the Zoroastrian grace while Bandvi holds the barsom. Niyatus throws down his bread in protest, Bandvi strikes him, and the Romans arm. Maryam goes to their camp and reconciles them before the quarrel becomes a battle.
Next day Khosrow prepared his royal throne,And donned the crown that marked the realm his own.
The festal board was spread within the bower;He called the Romans to the feast that hour.
and the Romans took their seatBeside the sages, at the board to eat.
When Khosrow left the audience-throne of state,In jeweled robes from , superb and great,
He smiled, advanced, and sat before the board;With held, approached his lord.
The Shah began the mealtime prayer’s low drone,And with the sages murmured, tone for tone.
When Niyatus saw this, he spurned the bread,And, in disgust, stood up and spoke instead.
“The Cross and heathen murmurs mock our King!”He cried, to make the hall with insult ring.
Then Bandvi rose, defending Iran’s grace,And struck the Roman lord across the face!
Khosrow was grieved to see the sudden shame;His cheeks grew pale as grief upon him came.
He said to , “This valiant foolShould not let wine make strife his guiding rule.
What business had he with that Roman lord?He shamed himself today before the board.”
Niyatus left and mounted, flushed with wine,Returned to camp with anger as his sign.
He donned his Roman , thought that dayTo wreck the feast and sweep its peace away.
All the Roman horsemen, prepared for fight,Turned toward the Shah’s court armed in open sight.
Niyatus sent a Roman rider on,While rage within him burned and peace was gone:
“Bandvi the worthless, with a shameful blow,Has struck God’s servant; this you surely know.
Send him to me; if not, await the cryOf tumult, rising dark against the sky.
You shall fare worse from me than from that slaveWho seeks the throne his proud ambitions crave.”
Khosrow grew angry at the Roman’s claim:“No man should hide God’s Faith for fear of blame.
From through ’s royal daysTo Kay , our fathers kept their ways.
None spoke of Christ; God keep me from the wayOf casting my forefathers’ creed away.
Those holy Shahs upheld my fathers’ creed;I shall not change my Faith for foreign need.
Shall I omit my prayer at meals and beA Christian now? Such shame is not for me.
Your reckoning is crooked; you should knowI saw Rum’s prowess when we faced the foe.”
Then spoke to Khosrow: “Let me go;I will abate this quarrel and its woe.
Entrust illustrious Bandvi to my care,That Rum may see him, and its hurt repair.
I will restore him safe, without dispute;No wise man lets a quarrel take firm root.”
The king sent Bandvi with ten riders bold,And Maryam, prudent, resolute, controlled.
Her lips were rich with counsel, calm and wise;She went to still the wrath before their eyes.
The Shah said, “To your uncle now relateThese words of mine, to curb his wrath and hate:
‘Have you not seen what did to bringMe help and strengthen my own rule as king?
He gave me men and wealth and treasure-store;Why would you break the peace he labored for?
Will you destroy affinity and pact,And strip me of his favor by this act?
Did Caesar say that I would turn asideFrom Faith, once back in Iran to reside?
Do you not know a noble keeps the creedOf ancient days? Let wiser thoughts now lead.
Take Bandvi to your breast; let anger cease,And speak no bitter words to mar this peace.
If he spoke ill of Rum’s religion then,Seek no great wisdom from such foolish men.
Say nothing harsh; do not now cast awayWhat Caesar worked to build through many a day.
May God prevent your late remorse and rue;Remember what I speak in counsel true.’”
The Shah pledged: “Bandvi’s days are almost run;My father’s murder haunts his grieving son:
Once Rum departs, his blood shall pay the debt;The blinded I do not forget!”
She went and spoke this counsel, calm and wise;Her rose-bright cheeks brought pleasure to the eyes.
Niyatus found her counsel just and grave,And took to heart the measured words she gave.
His anger toward Bandvi grew faint and dim;Remorse and shame began to trouble him.
Appeased, he bade his treasurer unrollA gold-fringed robe, and brought a royal foal;
He clad proud Bandvi, smiling face to face,And rode with him to the Shah’s farr-lit place.
When Khosrow saw him, “No good thought,” he said,“Will guide a man by grudging feelings led.
Bandvi has stirred this tumult, strife, and blame;Yet darken not the world with anger’s flame.
Do not fling Caesar’s toil upon the air;Let me one moment’s joy and quiet share.”
Niyatus said, “O Shah, why seek to findSound wisdom in a drunken Roman’s mind?
Keep to your fathers’ Faith throughout your days;The wise do not forsake ancestral ways.”
When words enough had passed on either side,He turned, and back to camp at last did ride.
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In briefKhosrow musters and pays the Romans, restores to Niyatus the cities taken from Rum, and sends them home. He worships a week at Azargashasp, then holds court in Anooshirvan’s palace, granting provinces to his chiefs and proclaiming justice and relief for the poor.
The Shah bade take command:“Prepare the muster; call the clerks to hand.
Let ’s assembled legions, old and new,Receive the treasury pay that they are due.
Let no man suffer hardship through this pay;Disburse it so no grievance mars the day.
For all whose prowess earned a robe of grace,Prepare rich honors suited to their place.
Bring splendid steeds from my own royal court,And fit rewards for every noble sort.”
To went steeds, a jeweled hoard,Attendants, golden girdles for a lord.
The gifts surpassed all measure; by their grace,Niyatus rose above the chiefs in place.
All cities took from Roman hands,Or won, or ’s bands,
He gave to Niyatus with patents clear,And made old bitterness turn sweet and dear.
The cup of colocynth with honey filled;Old rancor softened as the monarch willed.
The Roman legions, homeward bound, then wentTo Rum, that thriving land of their descent.
Great Khosrow rode two stages at their side,Then bade Niyatus farewell and turned aside.
He turned back, and the following week he choseTen shrewd and loyal horsemen, tried by foes.
He left the camp and rode with reverent heartToward ’s holy shrine apart.
When he beheld the dome, he left his steed,With tear-filled eyes and cheeks grown pale with need.
Afoot he came before the sacred blaze;His face was veiled in tears before its rays.
All week he read the ’s lore,And circled round the Fire, his heart still sore.
He left upon the eighth day of his stay;The feast of was not far away.
As promised in the presence of his lords,He gave his coins, his jewels, gems, and hoards,
Both gold and silver fit for monarch’s hand,To that bright Fire, the glory of the land.
He gave the poor rich silver from his store;None in that land was cheerless anymore.
Then to great the Shah made his way,To take his portion in the joyful day:
In fair , on imperial ground,The finest seat that mortal men had found,
Within the palace Anooshirvan made,Where once the king in royal splendor stayed,
He had its splendid chambers decked and lit,And set the golden throne where he would sit.
The conquering, God-fearing monarch came,And took his grandfather’s high seat of fame.
He summoned scribe and Mobad to his side,The latter keen of mind, a learned guide.
For lords of Iran, patents were prepared,As mighty Shahs had done, their will declared.
, experienced, generous, and wise,Oversaw these affairs with watchful eyes.
To he gave ’s land,To guard the borders and to hold command;
gave counsel; wisdom lent him grace,A worldly scribe with fair and noble face.
Since heaven favored him, the king conferred and by sealed word.
He pressed his golden signet to the page,And sent Ram riding, stage by stage.
He bade him bear it straight to brave ,With slaves and robes of honor rich and pure.
He sent to a patent sealed,In which his worth and province stood revealed.
He gave him , rich in field and town,Because he judged him worthy of renown.
To he assigned broad to hold,With governance and patents sealed in gold;
He gave the town of beside,With patent and an ivory throne of pride.
The treasury keys he counted in that hour,And gave ’s son both their charge and power.
That ended, then the monarch faced the crowd,And spoke his will to every chief aloud:
“All chiefs shall heed Kharrad Barzin’s behest;His will shall have its force from east to west.
His name shall stand inscribed on every deed,On every patent issued and decreed.”
The soldiers who had stood beside the throneReceived rich robes of honor as their own.
He sent them out as rulers of the realm,With frontier districts also at their helm.
A shrewd, well-spoken chief proclaimed the word;Throughout the realm his sweet, strong voice was heard:
“O subjects of the Shah, let justice raiseFrom all your lips its blessing and its praise.
Seek no revenge; from bloodshed turn away;Lead none to evil, lest your footsteps stray.
If subjects suffer from a soldier’s hand,The guilty man shall hang at my command.
The world to come holds fire and torment’s rod;The sinner there shall answer twice to God.
You are all lords of treasure fairly wonBy proper toil beneath the turning sun.
Enjoy and give, all you whom wealth has blessed;The poor may come to me with their request.
I bade my treasurer clothe the poor and feedAll those who have no wealth to meet their need.
At morning, when a man has need to dine,The royal stores shall grant three man of wine,
Provided that he bless the king whose careKeeps earth well tended, prosperous, and fair.”
A king who acts like this deserves more praiseThan learned men who live in godless ways.
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In briefFerdowsi breaks off to mourn his son, dead at thirty-seven while the poet lives on at sixty-five. He reproaches the young man for going first and outrunning his slow steps, then prays that God light his soul and forgive his faults.
At sixty-five, why should my hand sustainThis weary toil over ancient kings in vain?
Let me impress that lesson on my mind,And mourn the dear son who left me behind.
My turn had come, and yet the youth has flown;I stay in sorrow, soulless and alone.
I hasten, hoping I may overtakeMy son, and speak reproach for longing’s sake:
“My turn it was to go, not yours, my son;Why leave me here, and my slow steps outrun?
You shared my weary labors, page by page;Why leave your fellow traveler in his age?
Did you find younger comrades on your way,And hurry on ahead without delay?”
At thirty-seven, youth still crowned his headWhen life denied his wishes and he fled.
He proved a harsh companion on the road;He turned in anger, leaving me my load.
He went, but left his sorrows in my breast,My heart blood-filled, my weeping eyes oppressed.
He now has reached the light; there he will findA dwelling for the sire he left behind.
Since then a weary time has passed away,Yet none who shared his road comes back this way.
Indeed, he looks for me in wrath, I know,Because I linger still and move so slow.
At sixty-five I linger under heaven;He left this world when only thirty-seven.
He hastened on; I linger here behind.What fruit from all our deeds are we to find?
May God illuminate your soul with light;May wisdom be its armor, firm and bright.
May He forgive each fault you bore below,And make your dark abode with radiance glow.
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In briefBahram is received in Chin with honor and an oath of friendship. Noting that the Khan’s champion Makatura carries off a thousand dinars every morning, he persuades the Khan to refuse him. Makatura rages, and the two exchange an arrow and a sword as tokens of challenge.
Tell ancient tales; let ’s name arise,Chubin, whose warlike splendor filled all eyes.
When Bahram reached the Turks’ domain, he cameAmong their chiefs and lords of noble name.
To greet him at the Khan’s express commands,Ten thousand horsemen rode in ordered bands.
The Khan’s own son and brother led the way,With Turkic elders guiding that array.
When Bahram reached Chin’s ruler on his throne,In word and deed he made his praises known.
The Khan beheld him, rose, and kissed his face,Then stroked his cheeks with tenderness and grace.
He asked about the road, its dust and strain,The battle’s toil, the Shah, the marching train.
He welcomed to his hall,And , and their comrades all.
He sat upon the silver throne, and thenClasped hands with him who ruled the Turkish men.
“O glorious prince, who rules the Turkish line,And holds the realm of Chin by royal sign,
You know no man can dwell in peace or rest,While keeps the world oppressed.
He vexes all who seek release from care,And turns their ease to grief they cannot bear.
If you receive me, keep me by your side;Through good and ill, let your strong hand be guide.
Within this priceless land I will remain,Your comrade through delight as much as pain.
But if through me some grief should strike your gate,I will depart and seek another fate.
If you reject the alliance I have planned,I shall depart and seek ’s land.”
The Khan replied, “Great chief, may no such dayCompel your feet to take that foreign way.
I hold you as my kin, yet love you moreThan any child of mine whom I adore.
My whole domain will join in this accord,From humblest liege to every ruling lord.
Above all chiefs I raise you in renown;You need not seek their favor, nor bow down.”
Then Bahram asked an oath, a bond to gain;Yet on his life he sought a harmful chain.
The Khan said, “By high God, our guide and friend,I stand with you until my life shall end.
While I draw breath, in good and ill the same,Your friend I stay, bound fast by oath and name.”
They furnished two great palaces, each roomWith vessels, couches, fabrics from the loom.
They filled them full with servants, food, and clothes,With carpets fit for princely, calm repose.
Gold plate and silver vessels gleamed in rows,With gems and golden coins where treasure grows.
The Khan sent all to Bahram; his dark mindGrew bright beneath such favor, rich and kind.
At polo, feast, assembly, field, and chase,He praised him still and kept him near his place.
The Khan possessed one chief, his fortress-tower,His help in war, the pillar of his power.
, nobler born, had earned a name;Through him the Khan had won success and fame.
Each dawn he came before the throne’s high place,With fingers pressed to lips before his face.
He offered humble praise, as subjects doBefore a lord to whom respect is due.
Each dawn a thousand dinars he would claimFrom treasures of the Khan of ancient fame.
For many days Chubin observed the deed,Astonished by such appetite and greed.
At last he laughed and said, “Exalted king,You rule among the lords of everything.
Yet every morning at your audience door,This Turk comes in and carries off your store.
If this is what you give him for his pay,All gold within the mine will pass his way.”
The Khan replied, “Such is our custom here;It lends our Faith the honor we revere.
The man most brave in war, most firm in need,Receives the greater bounty for his deed.
His strength exceeds my own; with gold I charmHis temper and preserve the realm from harm.
If I withhold his gold, the troops will rise,And turn the daylight dark before my eyes.”
Chubin, seeker of the world, replied,“You made him insolent and swelled his pride.
When valiant Shahs keep watch upon their throne,No servant rules the realm as though his own.
Would you be freed from him, or must he stillBe shown especial honor by your will?”
The Khan replied, “Command and counsel blend;You have my leave to bring this to an end.
If you can free me from his hold, then allThis talk is ended here within my hall.”
Chubin said, “When he comes, as dawn comes on,To ask for gold, let every smile be gone.
Ignore him; give no answer to his claim;If you reply, let anger speak your blame.”
That night passed on; when dawn began to stir,The haughty Makatura came to confer.
The lord of Chin would neither see nor hearThe warrior’s speech, though he was standing near.
The Turk grew fierce and, in his anger, cried,“Why am I treated thus and cast aside?
This prince of Iran, lord, with thirty friends,Would turn your rule to serve his wrongful ends.
He seeks to turn you from the just and true,And bring your gathered troops to ruin too.”
Chubin answered, “Warrior, why this heat?Why rage in talk before the royal seat?
If the Khan honors counsel and accord,You shall not drain each morning’s royal hoard.
Though you are worth three hundred horse in fight,And hunt war’s lions with your utmost might,
Such prowess cannot earn you leave each dayTo bear great loads of royal gold away.”
When Makatura heard, his anger burned;Against his vengeance turned.
He drew a shaft: “Accept this dart from me;Tomorrow’s strife its fellow shaft shall see:
When you appear before the royal sight,My whistling bow shall end your days in flight!”
Chubin reached down and loosed his sword of pride,And gave it to the chieftain at his side:
“Keep this sharp blade; observe its tempered steel:Tomorrow’s dawn its brother’s edge shall feel!”
Then Makatura left the Khan’s high seat,And reached his own pavilion, swift of feet.
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In briefThe two fight before the Khan and his Turks. Makatura shoots first and his arrow is turned by Bahram’s jowshan; Bahram’s shaft goes through his spine, and he dies upright, his feet bound to the saddle. The Khan, secretly delighted, loads Bahram with treasure.
Night drew its somber skirt away from sight;Dawn from the darkened mountain shed its light.
armed himself for fight,With Turkish sword and coat of armor bright.
When heard, he called for steed and plate,And armed himself to meet the warrior’s fate.
They chose a waterless and rocky placeWhere no wild leopard’s claws had left a trace.
The Khan, on hearing, mounted with his train,And rode with loyal Turks across the plain.
They came to learn which lion of the twoWould first meet death before the fight was through.
Makatura reached the chosen ground,And drove the dust in clouds that wheeled around.
He shouted then to proud Chubin’s face,“What now of manhood in this battle-place?
Will you begin, or shall the Turk begin,The loyal lion-heart who fights to win?”
Chubin answered, “You begin the fight,For you first stirred this quarrel into spite.”
Then Makatura sneered with wrath and tiedThe notched bowstring on either horn with pride.
He grasped the string with joy and drew his bow,And shot his mail-clad Iranian foe.
His arrow struck the horseman on the belt,But turned the blow the iron dealt.
Chubin held his ground and stood apart,To let that raging bowman spend his art.
Makatura thought Chubin was dead,And shouting, from the field of battle sped.
“O warrior,” Bahram cried, “you have not slainThis man; do not depart across the plain.
You spoke; now hear my answer, blow for blow;If you survive its message, you may go.”
He chose a shaft to pierce the armor through;Before it, stone and iron softened too.
Through spine and mail the bodkin arrow sped,And pinned him to the saddle-tree stone-dead;
For he had lashed his feet before the fight,Vowing never to turn his horse in flight:
Now lifeless on the mane his head was thrown,Upright in death, as motionless as stone!
Then Bahram told the Khan, “The chief lies dead;He needs a gravedigger to make his bed.”
The Khan replied, “Look closer; there he liesAlive, asleep before our very eyes.”
Chubin said, “O mighty sovereign, no;His body even now to dust must go.
May all your foes sleep thus in saddle-seat,Upon Turanian horses in defeat.”
The brave Khan sent a horseman to surveyThat famed lion, who lay not far away.
He found him bound and lifeless on his horse;For him the turning sky had run its course.
The Khan then laughed, with secret joy at heart,Astonished by that horseman’s deadly art.
Then thoughtful, to his palace he drew near;His crown in joy reached Saturn’s lofty sphere.
He called for arms and silver, slaves and steeds,A royal crown and throne for noble deeds.
He called for dinars, gems of royal worth,And every kind of war-gear on the earth.
The Khan’s envoy conveyed the royal load;With Chubin’s treasurer the whole was stowed.
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In briefA monster called the Lion-Ape has swallowed the Khan’s daughter, and the Khan is too ashamed to ask for vengeance. His queen appeals to Bahram, who rides out alone and kills the beast with arrows, spear and sword. The Khan gives him a second daughter in marriage.
Time passed in peace; the seasons came and went;At ease, lived far from strife, content.
Within the hills were beasts beyond all count,And one grim monster haunted peak and mount.
Its bulk surpassed a horse upon the plain,With two black cable-locks that formed its mane.
Its hide was tawny; ears and mouth were black,And none who saw it dared a close attack.
It showed itself amid the heat of day,With lion-claws to seize and rend its prey.
Its dreadful roar rose past the clouds on high;The land lay stricken as its cries went by.
The people called the creature ;Its ravages had left no hope of escape.
The Khan possessed a daughter like the moon,Before whose face the garden-rose would swoon.
Her garnet lips smiled red; her eyes, in shade,Were somber as narcissi in a glade.
Her parents feared the sunlight’s very touch,And trembled lest its rays should harm her much.
One day she wandered out upon the plain,While the Khan hunted with his royal train.
The noble sat within her hall,With trusted counselors inside the wall.
The daughter took her damsels and her wineTo meadows green, where springtime blossoms shine.
The Lion-Ape looked down from rocky height,Descended, drawing her by breath’s fierce might.
It swallowed her; her fleeting life had fled;Her moon-bright life was gone, the princess dead.
The Khan heard, then blackened his face in grief;The queen tore out her hair beyond relief.
Long did they grieve as if in burning fire,Consumed by loss, revenge, and fierce desire.
They sought to slay the beast and free the land,And lift Chin’s sorrow with a healing hand.
When Bahram slew , renowned,The queen sought out the chief with triumph crowned.
She told the court how fiercely he could fight,And praised the deeds accomplished by his might.
One day she saw him ride with lords of fame,A hundred men who out of Iran came.
With many footmen walking at his side,Brave Bahram rode together with a guide.
The queen then asked, “Who is this lofty one,With grace like heaven brightened by the sun?”
A servant said, “You do not know him, then,If Bahram’s name is strange among our men.
He ruled Iran; his royal crest shone bright,Above the moon, beyond its silver light.
Chiefs call him Bahram, brave in war; his nameHas seized the fame that kings of old could claim.
Now he has left Iran and come to Chin,The earth shakes where his thundering steed is seen.
Our sovereign holds him as his chosen chief,And crowns him high with honors past belief.”
She answered, “Since his grace is known to shine,We may take shelter under wings divine.
I too may ask a favor of his hand;He may avenge the grief that scars this land.
Unlike the Khan, he will not shrink away,But hear my grief and make the monster pay.”
The servant said, “Relate your grief and pain;No living trace of that beast shall remain.
You shall behold its body lying dead,Dragged by a wolf where once the monster fed.”
She heard, rejoiced; her spirit, bowed with grief,Revived, as hope sprang up and brought relief.
She hastened to the Khan, her tale to share;He spoke of shame the tale would make him bear.
“A horseman such as I must bow my headTo tell them how that beast has left her dead.
To tell this tale would cover me with shame,And stain the honor of my house and name.
Its breath could wrench an iron mountain free;They do not know how strong that breath could be.
Though royal daughters may be famed and dear,A king too holds his own life precious here.”
She said, “For her, my seeing eye, I claimRevenge, though it should bring me praise or shame.
Perhaps my words may reach the wished-for end,And justice on my grief may yet descend.”
Much time passed on; she kept the matter sealed,A secret plan to no one yet revealed.
At last the Khan prepared a royal feast,And summoned every noble, great and least.
He sent for valiant Bahram to attend,And set him on the silver throne as friend.
The queen behind her curtain heard him speak,And hastened forth, the hero there to seek.
She saw the hero, praised him, blessed his name,And spoke the wish for which at last she came.
She said, “May Chin and through youGrow fortunate in all they seek and do.
I ask one favor; may my wish come true,And may I gain the boon for which I sue.”
He answered, “Speak; your wish shall be my will;Whatever you command, I shall fulfill.”
She said, “Nearby there lies a meadowland,A feasting-place with green on every hand.
The youths of Chin make merry there each spring,With wine and song and every pleasant thing.
A bowshot past the wood, your eyes beholdA pitch-black mountain, hard and grim and cold.
Upon that flinty height there dwells a beast,That turns our joys to terror at each feast.
The people call it Lion-Ape; they knowNo other name for such a dreadful foe.
The Khan and I once had a daughter fair,A moon whose beauty brightened all the air.
She left the palace for that meadow bright,While the Khan hunted far beyond her sight.
The monster drew her in with deadly breath,My blooming child, my eye, and brought her death.
Now every spring it visits that green place,To search for prey and ruin every grace.
Our youths and s have perished here;This beast has slain the men we held most dear.
By cruel havoc and its raging hand,It spread destruction through this lovely land.
Our brave horsemen in armed divisions goIn numbers to that mountain and our foe.
But when they see its claws and giant breast,Its back, its shoulders, ears, and monstrous crest,
It roars, and all their warrior hearts are torn;Their lion-courage breaks, and fear is born.
What elephant, , or lion’s mightCould stand before its dreadful strength in fight?
No man who counts the cost will venture near,Or measure strength against that shape of fear.”
said, “Tomorrow’s dawnWill see me ride to view that pleasure-lawn.
By strength and might that God has granted me,The Maker of the sun and moon we see,
I will relieve that meadow of its dread,If some at dawn will guide me where it fed.”
When the moon’s disk rose silver in the sky,And night shook dusky locks abroad on high,
The feast broke up; each went his separate way,Wine-flushed, toward palace chambers till the day.
When golden sunlight drove away the night,Brave Bahram armed his body for the fight.
He donned his gambeson, then said a prayer,Entrusting his own body to God’s care.
He took three arrows, bow, and hunting spear,Its point two-forked, with for his gear.
When he drew near the height, he bade his trainTurn back and leave him facing beast and plain.
As he approached the Lion-Ape’s abode,The mountain darkened round him on his road.
Among the flinty rocks he sat astrideHis horse; the kamand round his waist was tied.
He strung his bow, then called on God on high,The giver of all good beneath the sky.
The Lion-Ape was wallowing in a pool;It rose soaked through, tremendous, grim, and cruel.
Its soaking hair no arrowhead could pierce;It rushed to gulp the hero, mad and fierce.
The monster roared and struck the flinty height;From out the rocks the sparks of fire flashed bright.
He loosed an arrow from his bow; then spedA second shaft that struck the monster’s head.
Blood poured like water down across its hide;He watched it charge with jaws spread open wide.
His third shaft struck its claw; with practiced haste,He then released the kamand round his waist.
He plunged his two-pronged zubin through its head,Wedge-deep into its throat, and dyed it red:
He slit the monster’s maw and belly wide,To draw the princess from its gory hide;
He sheared the giant head, then turned to tellThe Khan and Khatoon how the great beast fell.
The Khan and queen, impatient, made their wayFrom grove to mountain, where the slain beast lay.
The Khan embraced him, hailed him king aloud;The queen then kissed his hand, her thanks avowed.
Chin’s warriors shouted praise; the earth seemed stirred;They scattered gold and gems with every word.
The Khan returned; his envoy brought a hoardOf gifts and spoke the message of his lord.
A hundred purses filled with silver shone,With slaves and robes to make his favor known.
“You stand in honor here,” the message read;“Another daughter I would have you wed.
If you would take her hand, I grant to youMy troops and country, to command them too.”
Then Bahram answered, “This is rightly done;A king commands his servants, every one.”
A scribe was called; on silk the grant was laid,A charter of the gift the Khan had made.
He gave his daughter then to be his bride;The realm obeyed his word on every side.
As custom called, they brought rich robes to wear,With crowns and belts of jeweled craft most rare.
The Khan told Bahram, “Give these gifts awayTo worthy men of Iran in your array.”
Then Bahram turned to banquet and the chase,Serene, secure in Fortune’s warm embrace.
The brave noble horsemen of Chin drew near,As suppliants before him, free of fear.
All Chin declared, “We are your slaves alone;Our lives and names are yours, and yours to own.”
In feast and largess Bahram passed his days,While all the people joined to voice his praise.
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In briefKhosrow demands Bahram in fetters; the Khan refuses, standing on his oath. Khosrow’s chiefs advise sending a patient envoy instead. Bahram meanwhile urges the Khan to invade Iran, promising him Rum as well, and marches out of Chin with Turkish troops behind him.
So matters stood, until report had flownAnd stirred concern around Khosrow’s throne.
“His kingship and his wealth exceed your own;Without the toil, such fortune he has known.”
Khosrow grew troubled, pierced by anxious flame,His heart wrung hard by ’s rising name.
He called his nobles close and sought advice,And weighed each course with judgment most precise.
At night he called a scribe and shaped his pen,As if an arrow-point had served him then.
He wrote the with royal art;One would have thought his pen could pierce the heart.
He praised first God, the One, the guide to light,Who lifts sun, moon, and Saturn into height.
He seats the kings, chastises evil deeds,And grants the sacred knowledge mankind needs.
By knowledge, ignorance, by right and wrong,Know God is One; to Him all powers belong.
He has no comrade, equal, peer, or mate;Who seeks the good shall find a worthy fate.
But may the man who turns his hand to illFind no success to help his evil will.
Who chooses God’s clear way must turn awayFrom thanklessness that leads the heart astray.
“He served the Shah with black ingratitude,Forgetting God and master in his mood.
He was obscure, of little weight or fame,Until my father raised his hidden name.
His conduct is well known throughout the state;No man of worth would greet him at his gate.
Yet you received him when he came to you,And took his hand with honor as his due.
To upright folk this act is hard to read,And I reject the judgment and the deed.
Do not uproot the honor of your name,Nor sell your peace for Bahram and his claim.
When this arrives, let counsel clear your night;Look well to profit and the path of right.
If you send us that slave in fetters bound,Your own advantage in this act is found.
If not, then troops from Iran shall advance,And darken all Turan with spear and lance.”
The letter reached the Khan; he read its claim,And marked the wrath from which the message came.
He told the envoy, “Come to court at dawn;Ask for reply, the veil of night withdrawn.”
The envoy hastened back; through all that nightHe watched until the sun poured out its light.
At sunrise, to the royal court he sped;The night of anxious waiting now had fled.
The Khan called for the silk, the musk, the scribe,Then wrote the answer honor would prescribe.
“From me, Your servant, let this praise ascendTo You, Creator, Lord without an end.
Your letter I have read; your envoy tooI seated here to hear the words from you.
Speak thus to slaves; your ancient house should knowThe rank of those to whom such letters go.
The great deserve the station of the great;The lowly have their own appointed state.
All Chin and all Turan obey my line;The Heytalian crown rests beneath my sign.
I never broke my faith; suggest it not,For broken pledges leave a deathless blot.
I took his hand; to break the pledged accordWould brand me base-born, an unworthy lord.
I fear but God; your greatness should be pairedWith greater wisdom than your words declared.”
He sealed the letter, then addressed the man:“Ride with the wind, as swiftly as you can.”
Within a month the envoy reached the court;The king grew fearful at the grim report.
He writhed beneath the turning sky’s intent,And for the chieftains of Iran he sent.
He told them what the Khan had written back,And showed them every word of his attack.
They read it through and mused in silence long,Then gave their monarch counsel wise and strong.
“O glory of the throne and crown of kings,Weigh well the burden that this message brings.
Letters alone cannot resolve this plight;Preserve your ancient , its guiding light.
Send wise of to his court,A statesman famed for counsel and support:
Dispatch him swiftly to the Khan’s domain,To counter Bahram’s plots and break his train.
Tell who Bahram was first, and what he soughtWhen high command and power to him were brought.
His fortunes prospered; then this wretched knaveDesired to make his sovereign lord his slave.
If this cannot be settled in one moon,Let him remain a year to seek the boon.
It will not be an easy task to shameThe Khan’s own son-in-law and dim his name.
Speak well and often; keep the secret sealed,So that to no one is the plan revealed.”
Then Bahram heard an envoy had arrived,With cunning letters Khosrow had contrived.
He told the Khan, “Khosrow, that man of guile,Sends letter after letter all the while.
Choose valiant troops from Chin to serve your hand;Through them you shall possess Iran’s rich land.
My sword shall conquer and Iran’s domain,And crown you lord of every conquered plain.
Iranian coins shall bear your name in gold,While foreign princes tremble young and old:
I shall strike off young Khosrow’s royal head,And leave the house of prone and dead!
I gird myself to serve with one design:To tear the root from throne and line.”
The Khan heard this and pondered in his heart,A forest thick with thought in every part.
He summoned elders from throughout the land,The learned and eloquent of heart and hand.
He laid before them Bahram’s full design,And all the hidden matters, line by line.
The wise men answered, strangers, kin, and all,“This task is easy, yet no labor small.
But when Bahram leads troops to take the field,The course to follow will stand clear, revealed.
In Iran he will find many a friend,With you, his kin and ally, to defend.
Your Fortune may bring victory to view;We should accept the course he sets for you.”
The Khan heard this; his heart revived again;He laughed, and pride returned before the men.
The warriors chose two youths of tested might,Fit to command and hardened well in fight.
In Chin lived noble , known for worth,And too, a chief of honored birth.
The Khan called both to sit and take their pay;The divan gave them dinars on that day.
He bade them both be watchful in the fray,Then gave the charge that both were to obey:
“Watch Bahram, whether joy or wrath be near;Keep all the crossings of the clear.”
He gave them lion-warriors, band on band;All famed in war, with strength at their command.
Bahram’s loud s rang; dust rose high;The sun seemed ebony against the sky.
On day he led his trainAnd marched from Chin toward Iran’s domain.
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In briefKharrad Barzin goes as envoy and wins the Khan’s favor with wise talk, but cannot shake his oath. Turning to the women’s quarters, he recruits a steward, befriends the despised old Turk Kulun, and earns the queen’s gratitude by curing her daughter’s fever.
When Khosrow heard, “The wolf has left the wood,And ’s force dims heaven where it stood,”
To then the monarch said:“Leave home, and choose the road that lies ahead.
Go to the and there relateWhatever words this matter may dictate.
Iran and both to you are known;In eloquence your mastery is shown.”
He opened then his treasury’s guarded hold,And brought forth gems and belts of worked gold.
He brought out swords; , amazed, would stare,And called on God in words of secret prayer.
With gifts he journeyed toward the Khan’s abode;Then at the took another road.
When he drew near the Khan’s imposing gate,He chose a man his coming to relate.
“Announce,” he said, “an envoy from the king;He waits to see the Khan, with news to bring.”
The Khan, on hearing, took his throne in pride,And bade them bring the envoy to his side.
Kharrad approached and spoke his greeting clear,Then bowed with courtly reverence sincere.
He said, “Your servant asks your leave to speakAt your command, and say the words you seek.”
The Khan replied, “Sweet speech makes old hearts young;Let useful words be spoken by your tongue.
Words spoken well are pith; if left unsaid,They are but peel, and all their life is dead.”
Then Kharrad called old histories to mind,And praised the Maker, lord of humankind.
He praised , fate’s Lord, whose power gave birthTo sky and time and all that fills the earth.
“All power is His, and we His servants stand;We speak His truth throughout this mortal land.
To one He grants the crown and royal station;Another He casts down in degradation.
Not that one man is loved, the next disdained;No man has fathomed what Yazdan ordained.
All men alike are born to turn to dust,And yield to death, as helpless mortals must.
Begin with royal ’s ancient name,Or , a sovereign crowned with fame.
Then pass to Kay and all the great,Whose names still stand in memory and fate.
, , and by equal sign,, bright flower of royal line,
All had a narrow tomb for their reward;In place of healing, poison’s draft was poured.
Our present Shah is of your kin by birth;His heart should join with yours in grief and mirth.
For ’s mother was a daughter bornTo ancient Khaqans whom your thrones adorn:
Our bond of kinship now is knit and bound;Affairs no longer turn in their old round.
May He who grants all victory bless your name,And make kings’ heads the earth beneath your fame.”
He ceased. The Khan replied, “Your words revealThe ancient lore, the wares in which you deal.
If Iran holds another man like you,He is enough to give the heavens their due.”
The Khan made room upon his royal seat;He placed him near, with courtesy complete.
He bade the gifts and treasures be conveyed,And with the treasurer of Chin be laid.
The Khan said, “May your fortune never wane,Nor lack of wealth become your earthly pain.
If you will take a gift from me, then say;And I shall take these gifts you bring today.
If not, you shine more brightly than the gold,A crown of wisdom, noble to behold.”
They made for him a pleasant dwelling-place,And hung rich draperies throughout the space.
At board and chase, at feast and drinking-bout,He kept his place beside the Khan throughout.
He sought a chance and found the Khan one dayAt leisure, fit to hear what he would say.
Then Kharrad said, “Chubin is base at heart,Worse than dark in wicked art.
He sells experienced men for paltry gain,For things too cheap to name without disdain.
King Hormizd first advanced him into light,And raised him by his favor out of night.
No man had even known that warrior’s name,And all he wished for in this world then came.
He broke with Hormizd, cast his oath away,And claimed that all Iran should now obey.
Though now he serves you with a kindly face,He will betray your covenant and grace.
He broke his pact with Iran’s king and turnedFrom king and God, whose service he has spurned.
Send him to Khosrow; raise his head so highThat it will pass the moon within the sky.
Then Chin and all Iran may both be yours,And you may dwell wherever joy endures.”
The Khan was stunned and answered, ill at ease,His gaze on Kharrad hardened by degrees.
He said: “Speak not such words before my face,Or you will lose my favor and my grace.
I will not break my oath or prove unjust;The oath-breaker shall have a shroud of dust.”
When Kharrad heard, he knew that every wordHad missed its hour and would not now be heard.
He thought, “From Bahram comes his hope to reignIn Iran; all my words meet his disdain.”
In black despair about the Khan, he turnedToward the queen’s house, while secret purpose burned.
He searched her suite for one to serve his role,And found a steward useful to his goal.
He privately revealed what Khosrow sought,And made the steward glad at what he brought.
Then Kharrad added, “Speak before the queen,That I may serve her as a scribe unseen.”
The crafty steward answered, “That will fail;He wed her daughter; you will not prevail.
He is her son-in-law, held close as kin;She guards his life and purpose safe within.
You are a scribe; devise a subtler scheme,And let no rumor rise around your theme.”
When Kharrad heard, he found no path to take,Nor saw what further plan his mind could make.
There lived an aged Turk, by name,Whom other Turks held low in scorn and shame.
He wore a coat of skins; on millet grainAnd he fed through poverty and pain.
had been of Kulun’s blood,So hatred for Chubin surged in a flood.
He cursed him always, nursing vengeful thought,And kept revenge as treasure dearly bought.
Kharrad invited Kulun, bade him sitIn honor’s place, as for a noble fit.
He gave him gold and silver, robes and cheer,And ranked him with the chiefs as though their peer.
Kharrad, extremely cautious, wise, and keen,Kept every risky movement still unseen.
He planned and counseled with the steward stillAbout the queen, but hid from the Khan his will.
By night or day, before the royal seat,He kept his silence, cautious and discreet.
The aged steward said to Kharrad then,“A noble scribe, renowned among wise men,
If versed in medicine and healing’s art,Would crown my lady’s hopes and ease her heart.
Chubin’s young bride lies sick; your healing proofShall gain you entry underneath her roof.”
Kharrad replied, “That knowledge too is mine;As you advise, I shall pursue this line.”
The steward told the queen, “A healer waits”;She bade him enter through the inner gates.
The steward said, “Keep secret why you came;Go, heal her child, but do not give your name.”
Before the ’s eyes he viewed the maid,Whose liver burned, in dire need of aid:
“Bring pomegranate juice,” he then decreed,“And streamside chicory, the herb we need.”
He sought to quell the fever in her head;Within a week, by God’s decree, it fled.
The girl grew radiant as the moon at night;The queen brought treasure forth in her delight.
A bag of dinars, five robes richly sewnOf gold brocade, she brought and made this known:
“Accept this poor reward, and ask for more;Whatever you desire is in my store.”
He said, “Keep these; I seek no gift today.When time allows, I shall name what you pay.”
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In briefKharrad arms Kulun with a knife and the Khan’s seal, stolen in clay by the queen. At Marv, on the unlucky Bahram day, Kulun stabs Bahram and keeps silent under torture. Bahram counsels his sister, bequeaths his army to Yalan-sina, repents, and dies.
arrayed his full command,Like pheasant wings, their colors crossed the land.
He marched to ; then word to Chin was brought,To keep from Khosrow news of what they sought.
“Let none from Chin or pass through,To tell Khosrow what we intend to do.
For news of us would be a precious prizeTo Khosrow; let the roads be shut to spies.”
The Khan proclaimed, “Who goes to Iran’s land,Without my seal, shall fall beneath my hand.
No wealth shall buy him off from death or pain;By God, I cleave such rebels on the plain.”
For three months waited, sealedIn silence; not a secret he revealed.
Troubled, he sent for as his guest,And seated him in honor, richly dressed.
He said, “No one who dwells beneath the dayIs free from secret sorrow on his way.
You often begged, at every door in Chin,For millet, bread, and skin, when times were lean.
But now your food is lamb and wholesome bread,And costly garments cover foot and head.
Compare your present with your former state,Past curses with the blessings of your fate.
Your years have reached a hundred, more or less,Yet I have fearful business to address.
Through it you may obtain a kingly crown,Or darkened dust may drag your body down.
I shall procure the Khan’s seal for your pass;Then cross the land as fire runs through the grass.
You must gain entrance where the chief resides,And bide your hour until the day decides.
Don your black coat; conceal this poisoned knife,Prepared to stake your fleeting, aged life.
Mark well day; keep that day in sight,And seek that lord, the world’s resplendent light.
That day lies heavy-omened in his mind;For years I marked the shadow of its kind.
He will not have a crowd about him then;In Chin’s brocade he keeps apart from men.
Say, ‘From the daughter of the Khan I bringA message for the proud and mighty king.’
Keep your knife bare beneath your sleeve and wait,Until he draws you near his private gate.
When he admits you by yourself, then say:‘The noble lady sends these words today.
She said, “When you report into his ear,Hide every secret from all others near.”’
When he shall ask, ‘What secret? Tell it plain,’Approach him swiftly; let no gap remain.
Strike through his belly; if you find a way,Then leap clear of the room without delay.
When they shall see his wound and hear his cry,The camp will shake; confusion will run high.
Some seek the stables, some the treasure-trove;Still others seek the rugs that weavers wove.
No one will think of you in such an hour,While fear breaks order and dissolves all power.
If they should kill you, you have seen the earth,And weighed its sorrows, pleasures, grief, and worth.
Yet truly none will care at such a timeTo harm you for the deed or trace the crime.
If you escape the slaying, you have boughtThe world itself by one courageous thought.
The conquering Shah will grant a city’s crown,And give you worldly share and high renown.”
To , old Kulun made this reply:“What further guide do I require, and why?
A hundred years have passed above my head;How long must I endure this life of dread?
My body and my soul I offer here;To ransom you, I hold my life less dear.”
When Kharrad heard, he hastened to the queen,And sought the promised boon behind her screen.
“My gracious lady, I now claim my boon;The thing I seek I shall reveal quite soon.
Some of my people on the farther sideAre held in bonds, their liberty denied.
Be pleased to set my own feet free from need;Procure the Khan’s seal-imprint for this deed.
Know this: by doing so, you give me life,And cut me free from bondage, fear, and strife.”
She said, “He sleeps in wine; I can take clay,And press his signet’s image there today.”
She asked Kharrad for clay, then went inside,Then reached the sleeper’s couch with cautious stride.
She pressed the clay upon his signet’s face,Then left the sleeping Khan and quit the place.
She brought the imprint back and gave it thenTo Kharrad, subtle master of the pen.
The scribe gave thanks and took that clay-pressed sign,And gave it Kulun for their dark design.
Kulun received the seal and swiftly went,As though a pheasant’s wings to him were lent.
He came to Marv; there he would wait and stayUntil the coming of Bahram day.
That day brought dread to Bahram’s troubled heart;He stayed at home, from field and men apart.
One slave attended him inside the room,Where fruits were set amid the chamber’s bloom.
Apples, quinces, pomegranates layBefore the chief throughout that fatal day.
Alone Kulun approached the outer gate,And spoke there to the porter, bent by fate.
“Sir, from the Khan’s own daughter, here I standWith word from her own home at her command.
I am no warrior, nor a man born free;The Khan’s own daughter sent these words with me.
That pious lady charged me to impartHer secrets to this chief alone, apart.
For her sake these must not be told aloud;No other ear may join the listening crowd.
She ails and bears a child; let me draw nearThe crowned , so that he may hear.
Tell him that I may speak what she has willed,And leave her private message there fulfilled.”
The noble chamberlain made haste inside,And reached the room where Bahram would reside.
He said, “The princess’ messenger stands near,Clad in a ragged skin coat, to appear.
He says, ‘The Khan’s own daughter sent me here,To speak a private message in your ear.’”
Bahram replied, “Let him stand near the door,And show his face before he tells me more.”
Kulun drew near; within the doorway’s space,He showed his head, his poor and aged face.
When Bahram saw that wretched, feeble man,He said, “Show any letter, if you can.”
Kulun replied, “I bear these words alone;No other ear may hear what I was shown.”
Bahram said, “Come nearer; end this doubt;Speak in my ear and let the tale come out.”
Kulun drew close, the knife beneath his sleeve,His vengeful heart prepared to strike and leave.
He feigned a whisper, bent as if to speak,Then struck the navel, laying Bahram weak!
A cry rose from the chamber into air;The people rushed to him in dread and care.
Bahram cried, “Seize that man without delay;Ask who has guided him upon this way.”
Then all within the palace rushed in wrath;They broke his leg and blocked the killer’s path.
The servants, furious, struck him with their fists,With palms and blows on face and arms and wrists.
From midday till midnight their blows would fall;He kept his lips shut, silent through it all.
When they had broken hands and feet with blows,They flung him in the court among his woes.
They gathered then in sorrow and dismay,About Chubin, still bleeding where he lay.
He still bled on and groaned in bitter pain;His cheeks turned lapis; life began to wane.
came in anguish to his bed;She tore her locks; her lap received his head.
She wailed, “Brave horseman, lion of the wood,Before your face the forest’s lion stood,
Then fled. Who has removed the world’s tall stay?Who cast this mighty elephant away?
Woe for the chief, the horseman known of old,Who won the world, quelled lions, brave and bold.
Who wounded you, the chief of mighty frame?He serves no king, nor honors God’s great name.
Who tore this mountain from the waters’ bed?Who felled the cypress with its lofty head?
Who cast the crown of greatness to the ground?Who filled the sea with sudden dust all round?
Who cast this moving mountain down so deep,Into a chasm, leaving us to weep?
We live alone, despised in foreign lands,With no true helper and with empty hands.
I told you, captain of the band, beware;Do not uproot the sprout of loyal care.
Should but one daughter live of ’s line,The land would serve her crown with light divine.
All Iran’s towns would answer her command,Nor turn from Sasan’s seed throughout the land.
Her blessed crown would touch the turning sky;You would not hear my counsel, though I cry.
You bring remorse before of light,And bear a guilty soul beneath His sight.
Ill has befallen us; we are the sheep,Our enemies the wolves that prowl and leap.”
The wounded man heard all his sister said,And saw her heart, so wise, with grief had bled.
Her cheeks were torn by nails, her hair unbound,Her eyes and heart bled grief upon the ground.
Though faint and suffering, he loosed his tongue,And answered her while life within him clung.
“My noble sister, nothing could compareWith all the wisdom of your faithful care.
The measure of my life is full and done;I did not take advice from anyone.
A Div-minded guide held me in his grip;From wisdom’s path he made my footing slip.
No king surpassed great , far or near;Through him the world knew hope as well as fear.
Yet at the s’ urging he went wrong,And made his world grow black though he was strong.
So too with watchful Kay , once blessed,By Fortune favored over all the rest.
The loathsome Div’s advice corrupted him;You know the evils that made Fortune dim.
He mounted heavenward to search its frame,And track the sun and moon from where they came.
So too the Div corrupted heart and soul,And drew me far from goodness as my goal.
I now repent the evil I have done;May God forgive the darkness I have spun.
So destiny was written on my head;Why mourn the path that brings me to the dead?
The water stands above my head; I seeThat grief and joy are wind alike to me.
What has been written now has come to be;No hand can add a word to Fate’s decree.
Your counsel is the keepsake I receive;Your words are earrings I would never leave.
Both right and wrong are over; do not callYour words again to mind beside my fall.
Turn now to God; spurn Fortune smiling bright;Tell none your grief or joy; keep both from sight.
My destined portion of the world is mine;The end has come; I leave the mortal line.”
To then he gave command:“I leave this faithful army in your hand:
Obey Gurdiyeh; let her counsel guide;A wiser counsel walks not by your side.
Part not from her; may no division riseBetween you two beneath the turning skies.
Stay not for long within this hostile land;Go all to Khosrow; hear his own command.
If royal pardon grants you all a place,Serve him alone and seek no other grace.
Send greetings; tell him of the bladeThat struck me here, and how the plot was laid.
In Iran make my tomb, my final bed;Pull down my palace when my life has fled.
Much grief I suffered, serving Chin’s great lord;Much praise he gave me as my due reward.
Was this the just return for all I gave,To send a Div to drive me to the grave?
Yet should the Khan learn how this blow was wrought,His mind may founder, baffled and distraught.
No men but those of Iran shaped this plan,And took the Div as guide against their man.”
He called a scribe and had a letter made,In which these words before the Khan were laid:
“Bahram Chubin has passed in shame and woe,His hopes brought down, his fortune lying low.
Be kind to those I leave, and shield them allFrom foes who seek to bring about their fall.
I never wronged you; I would go insteadWherever wisdom and right counsel led.”
He counseled then his sister long and well,Embraced her head, and spoke his last farewell.
He pressed his lips beside her listening ear;His eyes filled up with blood as death drew near.
Then life departed; all around him wept,And bitter sorrow in their hearts they kept.
His sister mourned and called his words to mind;Her heart was torn by grief she could not bind.
His sister had a silver coffin made;His frame was wrapped in folds of rich brocade.
Fine linen lay beneath his shirt; they spreadThe camphor round him till it hid his head.
Such is the course of this uncertain stay:Do not toil hard; you too must pass away.
Drink wine, not grief, by daylight and by night,With laughing lips and heart made glad and light.
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In briefNews of the murder reaches the Khan, who mourns, burns Kulun’s children and their whole quarter, hunts Kharrad in vain, and drags his own queen out by the hair and strips her of her wealth. He puts all Chin into blue mourning.
When news of slain Chubin had reached his ear,The Khan was overcome by grief and fear.
The letter came; the envoy told the tale,And round the throne rose sorrow like a gale.
The Khan was stricken, pierced through heart and soul;His bloodshot eyes wept tears beyond control.
Amazed, he called his seasoned council near,And spoke of ’s death with bitter fear.
Then all who heard the story wept for woe,And Chin burned inward, though no flames would show.
They mourned from palace wall to common street,With grief like embers burning at their feet.
The Khan sought out the author of the crime,And traced the hand that struck at such a time.
had in Turan two children, bredAmong close kin who shared their roof and bread.
When truth was known, he burned the dwelling down,With all its quarter in that stricken town.
He flung the children in the leaping flame,And gave their goods to plunder, spoil, and shame.
He knew that ’s schemes had shaped it all,That guile and wrong had brought about this fall.
He sent swift dromedaries through the land,But Kharrad did not fall into his hand.
He cried, “How did that dog escape and flee,Who kindled such a raging fire for me?”
The next he seized; from private placeHe dragged her by the hair in grim disgrace.
He seized her wealth and would not heed her pain,Nor let her grief awaken mercy’s reign.
The Khan and court put on the mournful blue,And draped the realm in sorrow’s darkling hue.
He mourned for Bahram for a time; the shameOf that affair had stained the Khan’s own name.
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In briefKharrad returns and is rewarded with a crown, jewels and a hundred thousand dinars. Khosrow announces the victory through the realm in Pahlavi, writes to Caesar, feasts a week, endows the fires, and draws the moral that an aged Turk can fell the bravest man.
When came, the monarch heardHis deeds, his news, and every spoken word.
At his report, the monarch’s heart grew bright,Released from him who challenged royal right.
He gave the poor both silver coins and dress,And gifts of every kind to ease distress.
To every ruler went the written word,In , of all that had occurred.
They told what God Almighty, just and true,Had done, and how the foe He overthrew.
The Shah then wrote to in his name,A royal letter worthy of his fame.
For one full week they feasted, high and low,While wine and music made each quarter glow.
He sent gifts to the temple of the Fire,And gave robes of rich attire.
He told , “A fitting gift would beA crown and throne, bestowed on you by me.”
He filled his mouth with jewels, bright and rare,And heaped rich treasure round him everywhere.
The treasurer poured dinars on the ground,A hundred thousand, till they hemmed him round.
The Shah said, “He who leaves the rightful wayWill see a shadow fall across his day.
Though brave as in the battle’s thrust,An aged Turk may cast him into dust.”
The Mobadan blessed the king with accord:“May earth be never left without you, lord.
If any man would dim your radiant face,May he meet Bahram’s end in like disgrace.”
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In briefAshamed of neglecting Bahram’s family, the Khan sends his brother to Marv with gifts, an account of his vengeance, and an offer of marriage to Gurdiyeh. She praises the Khan, pleads her house’s mourning, and promises an answer in four months.
When rage eased in the Khan, all Chin was red,And earth seemed gore from all the blood he shed,
He said, “Weak men in action go astray;Yet gave me joy in every way.
Why have I failed that hero’s kin in need,So weak and abject in my thought and deed?
All those who hear of this will blame my vow;No future heart will trust my pledges now.
I have not soothed his little child’s distress,Nor cared for all his kin in wretchedness,
Though through my daughter he was joined to me,A man of love and wisdom, bold and free.”
He summoned prince and spoke at length:“Go now to with all your speed and strength;
Seek out the kin of brave Chubin, and greetThe mourning house with words both grave and sweet.
Say, ‘I am stricken through the heart with grief,My tears shall flow through life without relief.
In vengeance I have bathed the land in gore;The cities curse me, Bahram they adore.
Though I take vengeance for this grievous pain,And bring the heavens down upon the plain,
Yet wise men know no soul can break awayFrom God’s decree or change his destined day.
This end was set for him by Fate and sky,And through the foul ’s sorcery and lie.
I keep my first pledge; till my final breath,No wind shall turn me false in life or death.’
This letter to his sister you shall take,To noble ; speak for my sake:
Say, ‘Holy lady, pure in heart and name,Upright and kind, of high and flawless fame,
I pondered long on all that touched your heart,And wisdom in my counsel took its part.
No husband is more fit than I to standBeside you, if you bless my house and land.
Come grace my household with your counsel bright;I shall hold you as body, soul, and light.
I shall strive never to break faith with you,But keep the covenant between us true.
Chubin’s great army and his treasure-storeShall bow to you as empress evermore.
Now gather friends and let the wise confer;Let judgment weigh what course you should prefer.
Let wisdom govern every word to me,Then set your judgment down for me to see.’”
Tobarg set forth and sped toward Marv that day,Like dove from cypress flying on its way.
He bore the letter and the Khan’s goodwillTo Bahram’s kin, with grief remembered still.
He shared the Khan’s own words, and how his soulHad burned for vengeance past his own control.
Then said, “O sages, nobles wise of heart,Approved and watchful, skilled in counsel’s art,
May rich reward from him on you descend;May the just Judge remain his constant friend.
This sudden death was no light stroke of Fate;No man expected grief so dark and great.”
Then privately he gave the letter, bentTo tell her all the Khan’s own message meant.
He spoke of kinship, counsel old and new,And of a woman’s virtue, pure and true.
The prince spoke on; the spotless lady heard,But chose at first to answer not a word.
Thereafter, when she read the letter through,And all the Khan’s imperial meaning knew,
She summoned thought and wisdom, weighed each phrase,Then answered him in measured words of praise:
“I have perused this letter, line by line,And sat with wisdom to discern its sign.
What kings and seasoned men of power would do,The Khan has done, and shown his judgment true.
May all our eyes be bright upon that manWho has avenged us through his royal plan.
May earth not lack the Khan; may kingship shineThrough him, and bless his path with light divine.
May care not wound his heart or bring him grief,Nor let the world lose hope in him, its chief.
When we sit down together, every partWe shall read, with wise men of might and heart.
Then each shall weigh the counsel you have brought,And judge the noble union that is sought.
Yet all my family is clothed in woe;The hour is harsh, and joy must not yet grow.
When mourning for so great a chief is through,The Khan’s command shall guide what I shall do.
To Iran I can find no homeward road;No better lot than marriage is bestowed
Upon a woman chaste; yet if I cameIn haste, how would the wise king judge my name?
To seek out joy while mourning fills my daysWould show no piety or noble ways.
The wise would say I cast all shame aside;The Khan himself would scorn me as his bride.
When four full months of mourning have passed by,I shall dispatch a rider in reply.
I shall hear what more counsel may arise,Then write the Khan with judgment from the wise.
For now, go glad, and bear my words away.”She gave him gifts and sped him on his way.
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In briefGurdiyeh tells her counselors that marriages between Iran and Turan end as Siavash’s did. She writes secretly to Gordvi, musters and pays eleven hundred and sixty picked riders, loads three thousand camels, and slips out of Marv by night for Iran.
Then in her leisure that young prudent dameConsulted all her counselors by name.
She said, “A new and wondrous tale is told,Whose memory within will not grow old.
The Khan, great ruler, skilled in courtly art,Has asked to marry me and win my heart.
He has no fault; a mighty king is he,And Turan’s troops submit to his decree.
While my great Lion lived, no man had daredTo seek my hand or have his wish declared.
For twenty years after I lost my sire, stood guardian, fierce with loyal fire.
He raged when any suitor sought my hand,And kept all claimants far from where I stand.
The Khan is not a man of low estate;His power is wide, his armies strong and great.
Yet if he seeks to make one kinship growBetween Iran and Turk, both realms will know
Affliction, travail, bitterness, and pain;Such bonds have never ripened into gain.
Recall the end that receivedFrom , whose pledge he had believed.
That peerless youth, the noblest ever born,Lost first his head; his life from him was torn.
What did that chieftain’s son accomplish thenBut raise war’s dust through all Iran again?
And dust from Turan too was sent on high;Both lands were dark beneath a troubled sky.
Contrive that, hidden from the Turks, our taleMay pass to Iran quickly and not fail.
I have prepared a letter to ,And thought beforehand what our course should be.
He may present my case before the king,And tell him all the grief these troubles bring.
God helping, he will hear what I shall say,And my persuasive words will win their way.”
They said, “You are our lady and our might,In Chin and Iran, strength in every plight.
An iron mountain could not make you bend;You lead brave men to honor’s noble end.
You are more shrewd than sages in their art,More full of counsel than a vizier’s heart.
We are your subjects all; yours is the word,And yours to judge the answer to be heard.”
She called the muster officer, and paidHim at the divan, where his place was made.
She went forth and inspected every man,Then chose the strongest fighters of the clan.
Eleven hundred and sixty she chose,Each one a match for ten among his foes.
She paid them silver, sought her own abode,And spoke to troops prepared to take the road.
“Whoever once rode armed into the frayWill face whatever dangers bar the way.
He fears no murderous multitude in fight,Though clouds rain severed heads and veil the light.
Our road leads to Iran, and to the kingOf valiant men, where royal banners spring.
Here in Turan we are but strangers all,Friendless and weak among the proud and tall.
When darkness falls, let us withdraw unseen,While sleep lies heavy on the heads of Chin.
Let not your hearts grow faint with fear of fight,If troops from Chin pursue us in our flight.
Their chiefs with massive gorzes may pursue;They will come for me; that is surely true.
Let each man take his life within his hand,And if they come, strike hard and make your stand.
But if you do not choose to share this flight,Stay where you are; move not a step tonight.”
They shouted, “We are yours; we shall obey.”They understood, rose up, and armed that day.
With Mehr and in the throng, rode with the chiefs along.
They swore to guard Chubin’s embalmed remains,Or perish fighting on Turanian plains.
She sought the caravan upon the plain,And called for camels for her baggage train.
Three thousand camels bore the treasure-store,While on a beast the silver bier they bore:
With , helm, , sword, the maiden flew,Leading her army through the night-time dew.
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In briefDeserters bring word to the Khan, who sends Tobarg with six thousand Turks to bring Gurdiyeh back by persuasion or by force. In her brother’s armor she meets him unrecognized, hears the Khan’s new terms, challenges him, and kills him with her spear.
Some men deserted from ’s force,And sought the Khan’s protection on their course.
The Khan’s own brother came and said, “Great chief,O lover of the fray and foe of grief,
Some valiant troops have turned toward Iran,While others seek your shelter, mighty Khan.
The realm and army mock us evermoreFor this disgrace before the palace door.”
The chieftain’s cheek grew white with wrath and shame;He heard the words, and anger filled his frame.
He answered, “Hasten; lead a chosen band,And trace the road they took across the land.
When you have reached them, do not start with harm;First use sweet words to quiet their alarm.
Not one of them can know our ways; perhapsThrough you our foe may see his strength collapse.
Speak with affection; treat them gently still,Encourage them with kindness and goodwill.
But if they start a battle, fierce and bold,Stand firm in battle; let no softness hold.
Make them a graveyard there at , and spreadThe earth with pheasant hues where men lie dead.”
He went with six full thousand chosen horse,Picked Turks, and followed hard along their course.
Upon the fourth day reached their train,And saw the troops of Iran on the plain.
That lion-hearted dame beheld the sight,But fear could never dim her inward light.
She left the ranks and hastened to the rear,And reached the cameleers who traveled near.
She placed the baggage train behind the line,Then turned and studied all the field’s design.
She donned her brother’s armor for the fight,And mounted on a fiery steed of might.
Both sides were ranked; each warrior drew his breath,And held his life in hand, defying death.
Tobarg came forward from his Turkish men;The Khan would call him “Old Wolf” time and again.
He called, “Is that pure lady with this band?Does she among your mighty numbers stand?”
Then Gurdiyeh came forth in armor bright,Clad like a warrior ready for the fight.
The valiant Tobarg did not know her, maskedBy , and spurred close to her, and asked:
He said, “Where does brave ’s sister stand?I seek that noble lady by command.
I bear a message touching old and new,Of present grief and what the past made true.”
She answered, “Here am I, prepared to rideAnd charge a ravening lion in his pride.”
He heard the voice of that heroic dame,Who rode a lion-steed with warrior flame.
Amazed, he said, “The chose you,From all the realm, as noble, wise, and true,
To keep alive the thought of Bahram’s name,The chosen mighty horseman of lion fame.
He said, ‘That kindness I shall well repay,As you will hear in what I have to say.’
He told me, ‘Go to her without delay:“If what I asked has seemed too harsh today,
Think of my former suit as words unsaid;I have withdrawn the wish that we should wed.
Though you desire no husband, you must stay;You may not leave this land and ride away.”
Speak thus to her; if she rejects this course,Then bind her, since she spurns advice, by force.
And bind the one who urged her to this flight,Whose words have passed beyond the bounds of right.’”
She answered, “Let us leave the ranks awhile,And I will answer you with measured style.”
He rode toward her, leaving all his men;She saw that he was quite alone, and then
Beneath her sable helm she showed her face,And spoke with royal courage, scorn, and grace.
“You saw Chubin’s great horsemanship in fight,And marveled at his deeds and all his might.
He was both mother and a father dear;His days are ended; now I face you here.
Now I shall test you; let our weapons showIf I am fit to wed, and you shall know.”
She spurred her battle-steed; her lance struck true,And then it pierced his jowshan through and through:
She hurled him from his saddle to the plain,A lifeless corpse among the desert train!
Then broke Chin’s stunned array,While on toward Iran she pressed her way.
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In briefGurdiyeh halts at Amuy and writes to her brother, reporting Bahram’s death, the pursuit and her victory, asking him to lay her case and her counsel before the Shah, and waiting there for an answer.
Upon the fourth day came in sight;No woman ever had matched her warlike might.
She paused awhile at Amuy on the way,And in her heart her cares increased each day.
She wrote then to her brother, telling allHer grief and how such sorrows came to fall.
“Our brother passed in grief and pain,Repenting of the strife that rent the plain;
His dying words enjoined us to submit,And seek the Shah as loyalty deemed fit.
Tell our high Shah the counsel you have heardFrom me, and faithfully convey my word.
A mighty force pursued us on the way,Famed chiefs and warriors hungry for the fray.
I drove them from the battle in such plightThey shall see neither feast nor further fight.
Great chiefs are with me; may no harm befallThese men of fame who stand beside me all.
I wait in Amuy; may my star shine clearAnd bring the answer I am seeking here.”
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In briefSecure at last, Khosrow can no longer bear that his father’s killer is also his kinsman. He has Bandvi bound at the wine-board and his hands and feet cut off, and sends a rider to summon Gostaham out of Khorasan.
Then Khosrow sat at ease, securely crowned,For brave Chubin no longer shook the ground.
No hostile chieftain rose within the landTo meet him where the ringing squadrons stand.
One day he told his minister of state,“How long shall I conceal this hidden weight?
My father’s killer passes here each day;He is my kin; what can I think or say?
My shining soul is steeped in blood and pain;How, bearing this, can I conduct my reign?”
They set the board; he drank some wine, then cast in bonds that day and held him fast.
The Shah then charged his minister: “Take care;Cut off his hands and feet; no moment spare;
He cannot arm himself for further strifeTo spill a king’s blood and cut short his life.”
They cut his limbs; in agony he sighed,And on the gibbet for his treason died.
The Shah sent forth a rider on the spur:“Speak not to anyone; do not demur.
Ride to the frontier lord without delay,And tell , ‘Come at once this way.
When you have read this letter of command,Make haste to me and leave ’s land.’”
He reached Khorasan, bearing words of grace,To lure the unsuspecting to the place;
Yet secret couriers warned him of the deed,And urged him to beware the monarch’s greed!
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In briefHearing that Khosrow has killed his brother Bandvi, Gostaham raises the north in revolt and lives off raids. Gurdiyeh reaches him with her warriors after her flight from Chin. Yalan-sina sounds her out, and she agrees to marry Gostaham because he is Iranian.
When received the Shah’s command,He called the scattered troops beneath his hand.
He marched through , , on his way,With all his gathered force in full array.
He came to , country of the great,And heard the Shah had turned his heart to hate.
He heard that Khosrow, drunk, had slain;His brother’s death consumed his heart with pain.
He gnawed his hands, dismounted from his steed,And tore his garments in his bitter need.
He poured the dust upon his head and cried,Perceiving vengeance now on every side.
The Shah would now avenge King ’s blood,And Gostaham stood threatened by that flood.
He turned back mourning, overcome with dread;Before him grief, behind him vengeance spread.
He gathered all his scattered troops again,And then sought thick ’s woods with his men.
He reached Amol’s old hills, and in the shadeOf cooling trees his army’s camp was made.
He raided outposts, bent on open war,And struck the royal troops, score after score.
The workless poor came flocking to be fed,And swelled his ranks along the roads he led.
Wherever royal soldiers camped in pride,He crushed their ranks and swept their strength aside.
Now came and stood before the Shah,And told what had achieved afar.
He told how she had faced the Khan’s array,With all her warriors mustered for the fray.
He told how there at she took the field,And made the ranks of Chin before her yield.
Meanwhile to Gostaham the tidings cameThat death had quenched brave ’s flame.
He heard Gurdiyeh with many troops had fled,While Chin’s fierce chiefs pursued the path she led.
He heard how she had met Chin’s troops in arms,And dealt with them in battle’s loud alarms.
He called to horse and from the forest sped,Like wind with all his gathered troops ahead.
When Gurdiyeh heard, she came with noble train,From , with her chiefs across the plain.
Gostaham saw them, rode before his men,And met Gurdiyeh in sorrow there again.
He spoke of , grieving for his fate,And mourned the loss of one so brave and great.
He spoke of grief for Bandvi, newly slain,And wiped the blood-tears from his eyes like rain.
He saw and, close beside, ; he left his mount and cried.
He said, “The Shah has slain Bandvi; my dayHas darkened, and my fortune ebbed away.
He acts as though no sister of the slainHad borne him; Bandvi bled for him in vain.
Bandvi would hold him high above his head,And give his soul for dust beneath his tread.
In drunkenness, with royal wrath made plain,The Shah cut hands and feet from him in pain.
What hope have you in Khosrow’s royal bough?What fruit can any willow bear you now?
He will treat you still worse; his wrath will sweepThe town, and make the flesh of men grow cheap.
Seeing Yalan-sina, he will renewHis wrath and all the hate he bears to you.
You were Chubin’s and his hand,And gained your power beneath his high command.
Let all who know him shun him; sharp and bright,A for his throat would serve him right.
If you remain with us, we shall consultOn every matter, weighing each result.”
They took his counsel, fearing harm too great,And turned aside from ruin’s open gate.
He spoke to Gurdiyeh with words of heat,Recalling Bahram’s deeds, his every feat.
His words made Gurdiyeh’s troubled spirit shake;She felt her former strength begin to break.
They all joined Gostaham; his darkened mindCleared as new allies gathered close behind.
He said to Yalan-sina, “Probe with tact:Would this proud lady wed, and seal the pact?”
Yalan-sina said, “I shall speak and seeBy patient speech what her own will may be.”
He said, “You are a woman wise in thought;Your flight from the Khan was fitting, wisely sought.
What say you to Gostaham, rich in gold,The Shah’s maternal uncle, strong and bold?”
She said: “An Iranian lord of noble birthProtects our lineage on this troubled earth.”
Yalan-sina gave her to him to wed,A valiant man, of royal lineage bred.
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In briefKhosrow and Gordvi devise a letter promising Gurdiyeh marriage, provinces and honor if she will bury her husband. Gordvi’s wife carries it to the elm wood. With five helpers Gurdiyeh smothers Gostaham in the dark, then arms, shows the chiefs the royal letter, and wins them.
Time passed; the Shah still nursed a private flame,And remained the source of blame.
One day he said to , “So I hearThat Gostaham has drawn near.
He took Gurdiyeh to wife; great troops now standBeside him, drawn, I think, by what she planned.
A spy returned from to my hall,And made the matter plain before us all.”
He spoke until the fading light grew dim,And warriors stared, their eyes transfixed on him.
The players set out lamps and wine; the rest,All strangers, were dismissed at his behest.
Then Shah and Gordvi sat, the chamber bare,And weighed Gurdiyeh’s part in each affair.
The Shah said, “I have sent great troops to fight,And take revenge on Amol’s mountain height.
They all came back with wounds and heavy chains,With hearts cast down and bodies racked with pains.
Though once had gone astray,Gurdiyeh never turned from us away.
I have a scheme; keep close what I shall say,Let not a whisper leak by night or day.
A letter must be sent her, soft and fine,Like Eden’s streams that flow with fragrant wine.
It must declare, ‘My friendship shall be true;In every place and task I shall help you.
Long was this secret hidden in my breast,But now the hour has come to speak the rest.
For Gordvi is myself in heart and will;His trust and mine are joined and settled still.
Devise some secret means, both sure and sound,To lay this rank affliction underground.
Lay Gostaham beneath the burial stone;Then win my heart and household as your own.
Your troops and partisans shall safely stand,And never suffer scorn in any land.
I shall give provinces to those you name,That each may rule with honor and with fame.
Come to my golden chambers as my bride,And let my vengeance thus be satisfied.
I pledge myself with oaths and further signs,With firm assurances and royal lines.’”
Gordvi replied, “May Shah Khosrow endure,As Venus bright in Virgo, calm and pure.
My life, my children, kin and lands I prizeAre nothing next to you in my own eyes.
I shall send one to her with this design,To make her darkened soul with brightness shine.
I need a letter from the king’s own hand,And sealed with royal signet by command.
I send it to my sister by my wife,And end the threat that darkens royal life.
This work belongs to women, most of allTo one discreet when secret matters call.
Once your persuasive words to her are known,The matter soon will end as you have shown.
Your message must reach Gurdiyeh’s prudent ear;There is no need for further counsel here.”
When Khosrow heard, he felt his cares depart,Like wind that lifts a burden from the heart.
He called the treasurer then for silk fine,And ink with ground black musk to trace each line.
On silk he wrote, with musk and amber traced,Where oaths of peace and royal terms were placed:
By holy Fire and Zand he pledged his grace,To grant her honor in the bridegroom’s place.
They pressed in musk the royal signet’s name:Parviz, the Shah from whom the letter came.
Gordvi wrote counsel too, and much beside,Recalling ’s deeds and ruined pride.
He wrote how Bahram shamed his house and land,And left disgrace upon his kindred’s hand.
He prayed, “May God forgive him for his deed,And show him mercy in his hour of need.
Those void of wisdom never weigh the end,Nor see where rash and wrongful actions tend.
He has gone on; we all must follow too,And trust the justice God will bring to view.
My wife, when she arrives, will counsel you;Do not depart from what she bids you do.
If you refuse, your Fortune’s face will fade,And all your hope will stand in grief and shade.”
He placed the Shah’s dispatch within his own,Then wrapped them both in silk with patterns sewn.
His wary wife received the charge and word,And held each strict command that she had heard.
She rode toward the elm wood, on her wayTo Gurdiyeh, with all she had to say.
When Gurdiyeh saw her, she grew fresh as spring;Her cheeks regained the bloom that hope could bring.
They spoke at length of Bahram, now laid low,And let the tears upon their lashes flow.
Then privately Gordvi’s wife gave the scroll,And laid the hidden scheme before her soul.
That lion-woman read the letter through,As though the moon on earth had come in view.
She laughed: “If I have five friends at my side,This task will not confound me,” she replied.
She showed the royal letter to her trainOf five sworn servants, trusted to remain;
She pledged herself and clasped each helper’s hand,And bound them to the purpose she had planned.
She called the five to her and bade them stayBeside the chamber where her husband lay.
At night she quenched the lamps; a cushion spreadAcross his face and pressed upon his bed:
Her five attendants held the sleeper fast,Until his drunken breathings were his last.
She struggled with the drunken man untilHis tongue, once quick with speech, lay mute and still.
The chief in darkness died, deprived of light;For Khosrow now the night itself grew bright.
Then cries and clamor through the city spread;Through every street a storm of tumult sped.
She heard, and donned her Roman , bold,And called Iran’s men; all her tale she told.
She spoke of him who now had met his fate,Then showed the royal letter to the great.
Their courage rose; the chiefs gave praise, and shedTheir jewels upon the letter they had read.
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In briefGurdiyeh writes to report the deed and ask for orders. Khosrow, delighted, summons her by a sweet-tongued envoy. She pays her troops and comes with treasure; the Shah seeks her hand, has the Mobad wed them by the old rite, and sets her above his other women.
That dauntless lady called for pen and ink,And with her counselors began to think.
She wrote the Shah concerning friends and foes,With prudent words that royal wisdom chose.
She praised the Shah who washed his hate away,Then pledged to heed whatever he might say.
“The Shah’s command has been obeyed in all,As loyal hearts would answer such a call.
Through Fortune of the Shah who rules the land,That mighty force is now a scattered band.
What further orders does the Shah decree?What service now remains for one like me?”
When Khosrow read, his heart grew glad and light;Her wisdom and obedience pleased his sight.
The Shah chose one, a sweet-tongued, trusted man,High-starred and honest, wise in every plan.
He wrote a letter bright as Chin’s ,With blessings where the royal phrases rang.
He called her to his court, and wrote her praise:“The moon’s own crown,” declared his letter’s phrase.
The envoy hastened through the flying dust,And told her all the Shah had said in trust.
The lion-lady bloomed like springtime’s flower,Made glad by summons from the Shah of power.
She called her troops; their pay she then bestowed,And loaded baggage when the daylight showed.
She neared the royal city; in array,An army came to greet her on the way.
Jowshan on, she rode to the palace gate,Then stepped afoot before the throne of state:
The Shah was dazzled by her warrior grace,As noble chieftains filled the royal place.
They brought the treasure forward for review,And named each item to his treasurer too.
Gold coins and jewels, gathered in a heap,With gold-woven brocade and crowns piled deep.
With girdles, golden thrones and shields of gold,Such treasures as no reckoning could hold.
Khosrow beheld that cypress, tall and bright,Spring-cheeked, with pheasant gait and queenly light.
Her face was day, her locks were dark as night;Her lips seemed to rain pearls of purest white.
He placed her first within the royal bower,Endowed with majesty, renown, and power.
He sought ’s hand to make her bride,Then bade the Mobad wed them by old rite.
By custom of their faith, he took his wife,And cherished her as dearly as his life.
Her comrades, too, received rich robes to wear,And silver, gold, and gifts both rich and rare.
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In briefAsked to show how she fought the Khan’s men, Gurdiyeh arms in mail and Roman helm and rides a display of spear-work in the garden before twelve hundred women. Shirin warns that she may be nursing vengeance for Bahram. Khosrow laughs and sets her over the women of his bower.
Two weeks had passed; the Shah addressed her so:“By sun and moon, by throne and crown aglow,
Tell of your battle with the Khan’s fierce men,And arm yourself as you were armored then.”
She answered, “Shah, live ever, bright in view;May souls be nourished by the sight of you.
Command your men to bring a warhorse strong,With saddle, bow, and , coiled and long.
A spear, a helm, a battle coat to wear,A quiver full of shafts for me to bear.”
The Shah commanded, “Set my seat in placeWithin the garden, fit for royal grace.”
The slaves from and obeyed,And preparations for her show were made.
Twelve hundred beauties made the royal train,A throng the garden struggled to contain.
Before them walked, bright as the dawn,A silver cypress moving on the lawn.
neared the Shah and asked a TurkFor , Roman helm, for battle’s work.
She left her seat, came forth equipped to fight,A spear in hand, prepared to show her might.
She said, “My king, permit me now to show;Watch closely; may you never suffer woe.”
The Shah gave leave; lance held and reins in hand,She leapt jowshan-clad, swift as fire and sand.
She rode within the garden, left and right,And traced strange courses, wondrous to the sight.
She wheeled her horse, and raised her voice on high;Her battle-cries rose past the clouded sky.
She told the Shah, “When I met ’s might,I raged like this, a she-wolf in the fight.”
Then Shirin said, “Why arm her so, O king?Her brother’s death may give her wrath its wing.
I fear she broods on ’s bitter fate,And may turn all that fury into hate.
You sit in robes upon your throne of gold,While she rides past, with weapons in her hold.”
The Shah laughed, answering Shirin with a smile:“Expect her friendship, free of hate or guile.”
She wheeled her charger round him in display;“Well done!” the Shah exclaimed along her way.
She said, “Would that the Shah’s own foe stood near,And faced me now before my lifted spear.
I would unhorse him as I did that day,When Tobarg from his saddle fell away.”
The Shah was struck with wonder where he stayed,At strength and skill and grace that she displayed.
He called for wine: “Let all behold and seeIf you can quaff this royal cup of three.
Will vintage quell you, or will you remainUnbowed in grandeur on the festive plain?
Across the world four chiefs their posts maintain,As guardians of my life throughout my reign.
Each holds twelve thousand men beneath command,Iranian s of proven hand.
Within my golden bower and gem-bright room,Twelve thousand maidens serve in royal bloom.
With torques and earrings, they are yours to guide;As keeper, you shall over them preside.
Of their affairs, whatever may be heard,From you alone I wish to have the word.”
Gurdiyeh heard with joy; the taunts that stungWere silenced, and reproach had lost its tongue.
She bowed to earth before her sovereign’s face,And blessed his royal and shining grace.
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In briefA cup engraved with Bahram’s name enrages Khosrow, who orders Rey trampled by elephants. His minister objects, so instead the Shah has the basest, ugliest man in Iran searched out and given Rey to govern. The wretch kills the household cats, tears down the roof-gutters, and ruins the city.
Much time passed by; the monarch’s rising starClimbed ever higher, shedding light afar.
One night he drank with sages at his side,With many men and seasoned chiefs allied.
Among the guests they raised a graven cup;It bore ’s proud name, as they drank up.
The Shah commanded, “Cast that vessel down,”And all reviled the cup before the crown.
They cursed Bahram, the cup that bore his name,And he who made it shared their bitter blame.
The Shah then said, “Let elephants now treadOn ’s broad fields and drive its folk in dread.
Expel the people, ravage house and field;Let every dwelling to destruction yield.”
The noble minister addressed him so:“O heir to mighty kings, restrain this blow.
The realm of Rey is rich, its greatness known;Do not let trampling beasts destroy your own.
Both God and every worthy man would blameA deed that puts so great a land to shame.”
The king replied, “I seek an evil man,Low-born and fit to ruin what he can.
Let him rule Rey a while, a man unkind,With foulness on his tongue and darkened mind.”
The minister replied, “Then name his traits,And I shall search through cities, roads, and gates.
Unless you mark his nature and his sign,No guide can find a man of such design.”
Khosrow replied, “I want a babbling knave,Ill-starred, red-haired, with nothing wise or brave.
Foul, crooked-nosed, with sallow, sour face,Malicious, short, his heart a bitter place.
A coward, base, devoid of any glow,With vengeful thoughts and lies in constant flow.
With squinting eyes of green and teeth too great,And like a wolf, a crooked, shambling gait.”
The were amazed to hear him speak,And searched through city, stronghold, field, and creek.
They sought among the mighty and the small,At last a man brought tidings to the hall.
“I found a man like this upon the way;Command, and I will bring him here for Rey.”
The king had him brought in; they laughed aloud,Both court and army in the gathered crowd.
The Shah said, “Tell your deeds, that I may learnWhat evil fires within your spirit burn.”
The man replied, “I never cease from ill;I lack all wisdom, honor, truth, goodwill.
Whatever people say, I twist awry,And make their flesh and souls in torment cry.
My stock is lies; I have no sense of right,And truth remains forever out of sight.
I shatter excellence wherever found,And cast the roots of bounty to the ground.”
Khosrow replied, “May your bad star endure,”And gave him Rey by royal writ made sure.
Through shame and vice that wretch rose to command;The scattered troops were placed beneath his hand.
He left the court, renowned for evil ways,And came to Rey to darken all its days.
Arriving there, he cast off fear of God,And made oppression blossom from his rod.
He ripped all roof-spouts down in cruel spite,That rains might rot their mudbrick walls by night;
He ordered every household cat be slain,That vermin might devour the stored-up grain.
Wherever he went, a herald walked before,With threats of fire at every dwelling door.
“If cat or gutter still remains,” he said,“Your house shall burn, and stones shall strike your head.”
He sought out even one small coin of gain,And plunged its hapless owner into pain.
Through fear they left their homes and turned awayFrom all the settled land they loved in Rey.
When rain fell, not a gutter could be found;No watchman kept the city safe and sound.
Rey lay destroyed beneath that tyrant’s hand;The sun beat down upon that ruined land.
The city filled with anguish and despair;Its people were forgotten everywhere.
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In briefSpring comes and the court drinks in the garden. Gurdiyeh brings in a kitten in earrings and gold trappings, mounted like a prince, and when the laughing Shah asks her wish she begs for Rey and the recall of its governor. Khosrow grants her the province.
So matters stood until came,And petals spread across the earth like flame.
The clouds shed tears as large and bright as hail,And tulips filled the valley and the vale.
The dales were dappled like a leopard’s hide,And earth wore Roman brocade far and wide.
The chieftains came to sport within the bowers,While deer and sheep went flocking to the flowers.
Khosrow beheld the garden’s opened gates,And waterbirds that played beside their mates.
He bade the s sound; attendants borePerfume in ornate basins to the fore.
They sat upon the grass and called for wine,And decked their souls with joy in spring’s design.
Then clever brought a kitten near,So like a child the creature did appear.
A toy steed made of gold and silver shone,Whereon the kitten rode as on a throne.
Its ears bore rings; its claws were tulip-red,Its eyes drooped like a drinker’s in its head.
Its eyes were pitch-black, springlike was its face;It rode with golden trappings through the place.
The Shah laughed loud, and laughter filled the court;All hearts were captured by the playful sport.
He said to her, “What is your wish today,My gracious lady, what have you to say?”
The clever dame bowed low and made her plea:“Great Shah, bestow the land of on me.
Show wisdom, Shah; release sad hearts from grief,And give those woeful people swift relief.
Recall that wretched man from Rey today,And call him base and wicked in his way.
He slays all cats and tears each roof-spout down,And spreads despair through that deserted town.”
Khosrow laughed loud to hear his lady plead:“You, bold of heart, before whom foes recede,
I give you Rey, its city and its lands;Send there an upright man with just commands.
Recall that wretch of ’s own brood.”Her fortune flourished, by the king renewed.
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In briefKhosrow orders his empire: four armies of twelve thousand guard the Roman march, Zabul, the Alan road and Khorasan. He gives away his father’s hoarded coin, beheads the men who shed his father’s blood, then divides day and month into quarters of justice, feasting, prayer and study.
Thereafter, when the Shah’s power spread wide,And all folk wished him well on every side,
When other kings before his power bowed down,And liegmen prospered underneath his crown,
He chose from Iran’s land, in ordered bands,Four times twelve thousand tried and warlike hands.
Brave s, experienced in the fight,He called before his crown and royal light.
He opened ancient hoards of treasured gold,Filled once by and of old.
He portioned all the world in quarters wide,Assigning towns and regions on each side.
Twelve thousand famous men, a chosen band,He sent to ’s frontiers to guard the land.
These shrewd, skilled horsemen, who each bore a blade,Were set to shield the marches from a raid,
Lest Roman legions cross the frontier lineAnd bring Iran to ruin and decline.
Each was to know his boundaries and worth,And keep his proper limits on the earth.
He chose twelve thousand seasoned men to stand,And sent them out to guard broad ’s land.
They left rose gardens for a gloomy plain,And bore the Shah’s command through dust and pain.
He said, “If anyone shall leave the way,And, rash of tongue, in speech should go astray,
Restore him to the path with courteous care;If worse, let bonds and prison be his share.
Send spies abroad to keep your knowledge bright;Set watch-posts round your camp by day and night.
Keep roads and borders watched; take care to keepYour tents well guarded every time you sleep.”
He chose twelve thousand more, a valiant band,All trained in war, to serve at his command.
He gave them much advice and sent their bandsTo guard the route that led to Alan lands.
He charged them with the gateway of the North,Lest steppe marauders issue wildly forth.
He told the chiefs, “Be watchful; God defendYour lives and guide you safely to the end.”
He chose twelve thousand warriors for command,And sent them east to guard ’s land.
He charged them: “From to Chin, let noneMarch in, unless our leave be sought and won,
Except the loyal, who observe my will,Who come with leave, their pledges to fulfill.
In every province I have treasure laid,To meet your wants, and see your wages paid.
When need appears, send word and rest secure;Be prudent, watchful, steadfast, and mature.”
He had the royal treasury unsealed,And coins that ’s markings bore revealed.
He wept and gave those coins to those in need,And with that wealth the poor from want were freed.
He turned his wrath on ’s guilty crew,Those close to and too.
For they had sought his father’s blood to shed;He severed from each guilty trunk its head.
When wrath and vengeance both had reached their end,He turned to justice, seeking wrongs to mend.
He portioned day and night in quarters four,And ordered time that circles evermore.
One quarter he received a Mobad’s speech,Reporting all affairs within his reach.
If wrong among the people came to light,Or harm among the warriors met his sight,
He sought the cause with justice as his guide,Then found the cure that law and right supplied.
Another quarter passed in song and lays,In minstrelsy and princely nights of praise.
A quiet, carefree session with the great,As mighty men should hold in royal state.
The third was prayer and praise to God Most High,The fourth, the study of the starry sky.
The nature and the paths of stars he sought,While star-readers stood near and guided thought.
Half of that share, through stretches of the night,He spent with ’s beauties in delight.
He also portioned every month in four,That life might yield delight and wisdom more.
One part was riding, polo, bow in hand,With one great lord to learn and understand.
He hunted hill and plain, and so would thrive,His freshness and his vigor kept alive.
When he returned by daylight or by night,The wealthy decked his route for his delight.
Another share was chess and nard and lore,Of ancient heroes and the wars they bore.
The third was for learned writers and the wise,Who read old histories before his eyes.
The fourth he gave to envoys sent by kings,And wrote replies concerning weighty things.
With robes of honor, satisfied, they rodeBack from the court upon their homeward road.
That day he issued writs for all the lands,And gave them to the chiefs with royal hands.
When brought in the New Year’s light,He stored a secret treasure out of sight.
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In briefIn the sixth year of the reign Maryam bears a son, named Qobad in a whisper and Shiruyeh aloud. The astrologers find ruin in his chart: through him the earth will suffer. Khosrow seals the horoscope, hides a week, then writes cheerfully to Caesar.
When he had reigned five years, he had no peer,And in the sixth a child to him drew near.
For ’s moonlike daughter bore a son,The Shah’s own likeness in the little one.
No prayer-call then was whispered in the ear;That custom was not yet established here.
For princes reared in luxury and grace,Two names were given in that ancient place.
One name in secret to the child was said,The other spoken for the realm instead.
The Shah named him in whispers low,But called him for all to know.
The child was born when three night-watches passed;Star-gazers came, the horoscope to cast.
asked, “What have they seen,The star-readers who judge what signs may mean?
What shall result from this young prince’s birth?What is his horoscope upon this earth?”
They said, “No man escapes the sky’s decree;The turning sphere determines what shall be.
Through this child all the earth shall suffer sore,And turmoil through its towns and fields shall pour.
His army will not bless him in his day;He too will leave the holy, rightful way.
What need remains to speak of further woe?The stars have shown what no man wished to know.”
The outcome of their study and their speechBrought grief beyond the Shah’s accustomed reach.
He said, “Look better, sages of the sky;Take care that none of this abroad should fly.
Before Iran’s great chiefs, speak not one word;Let no dark rumor through the court be heard.”
He took that evil horoscope to heart,And sealed it with his signet, set apart.
The matter filled his heart with heavy dread;A week he gave no audience, bowed his head.
He left the chase and wine, withdrew from sight;The Shah sat bowed beneath his care each night.
The chieftains gathered round the Mobad then,And questioned him among the lordly men.
They asked what grief had clouded royal cheer,And why the Shah no longer would appear.
The Mobad came before the Shah and toldHow, troubled, all the army’s heart grew cold.
He answered, “Fate has troubled all my mind;The turning sky has grown severe, unkind.
The star-readers have spoken words of dread,And I resent the heavens overhead.”
He bade the keeper bring the silk in sight,Whereon the stars had traced that fateful night.
The Mobad read the chart with sorrowing eye,And stood in awe beneath the turning sky.
At last he said, “God is enough; He standsBeyond what human reason understands.
If circling heaven turns a hostile face,No grief can drive the evil from its place.
Why should the wise make sorrow more severe?May nothing but delight be yours to hear.
Let not their words within your heart abide;The Maker be your comfort and your guide.”
Then Khosrow smiled and, shaking off his gloom,Summoned a trusty scribe into the room.
He bade him write: “Great Caesar, joy is spread;For now has borne a prince,” it read.
“He has no peer; the throne and wisdom’s art,With skill and bounty, suit his royal heart.
As I rejoice, join in my celebration;You too are worthy of a kingly station.”
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In briefCaesar keeps seven days’ festival for his grandson and sends ten caravans of treasure with the envoy Khanagi. His letter praises Khosrow’s line, recalls the old feud of Salm and Tur as settled by the marriage, and asks one gift: the Cross of Christ from the Iranian treasury.
When read the royal letter through,And saw Parviz’s signature there too,
He bade the s sound before his gate,And resounded through its wide estate.
They decked the hills, the roads, and every way,In honor of ’s auspicious day.
The minstrels’ voices rose in joyful sound,And Roman gladness filled the realm around.
They brought their crosses to the royal gate,With flowers’ fragrant breath to celebrate.
For seven days they drank with harp and wine,Rejoicing over Shiruyeh’s royal sign.
Upon the eighth, he summoned to his courtThe caravan and drivers for transport.
A hundred camels bore silver in train,And fifty more bore gold across the plain.
Two hundred Roman brocades shone with gold,Their weave like solid treasure to behold.
He sent forth forty tables, richly made,With coral feet and golden work inlaid.
He sent gold beasts and silver beasts beside,Full forty, gems on breast and eye applied.
To he sent a peacock, castIn gold, with jewels at its side amassed.
Soft Roman silk, and one rare basin, bossedWith pearl and at wondrous cost.
He sent as tribute four full million more,Gold coins of Rum from Caesar’s guarded store.
With forty watchful Romans set to guard,The treasure moved beneath their close regard.
led, a man of judgment sound,Whose equal for wise counsel was not found.
Ten caravans bore treasure in their train,Like moving hills that crossed the Roman plain.
The conquering Shah received this new report:Now Caesar’s envoy neared the royal court.
He bade brave Farrokh, lord of , ride,A loyal frontier chief of noble pride.
A warrior, luster of the Shah’s array,He mounted with the chosen men that day.
With him went horsemen wearing golden helms,The shining chosen of Iran’s broad realms.
When Khanagi beheld that gleaming file,He came before them in a stranger’s style.
They reached the Shah, the palace, and the hall;The envoy saw the splendor of it all.
They saw the Shah’s fair face, his splendid throne,And bowed their heads to earth, their homage shown.
Khanagi, with his face upon the dust,Praised Khosrow as the lord of right and trust.
“O lord of justice, holy king,” he cried,“May conquering God forever be your guide.
May you be Shah and generous every hour;May Fortune guard your crown and royal power.”
The chiefs arose and made a place nearby,That he might speak beneath the monarch’s eye.
He said, “Whose wisdom can be like your own?You shine beyond the sun in heaven’s zone.
Your life outlasts the speaking soul’s own light,Enduring past its span in royal might.
May earth not lack a king so bright as you;May time bear fruit from all you say and do.
May none behold a day against your will;Your name is written on the sun there still.
May earth not lack your head, your crown’s command;Nor may your army vanish from the land.
From Caesar, salutation to your crown;From us, all praise to you of high renown.
May he who finds no joy beneath your shadeBe left without the light that day has made.
From Rum, with gifts and tribute, we are here;Philosophers from home with us appear.
Let none be grieved by us or what we bring;Accept these gifts and blessings from our king.”
The Shah smiled on that envoy, versed in thought,And had a golden seat before him brought.
Khosrow consigned the gifts to treasury care,And said, “Such toil was more than you should bear.”
Then to the monarch said,“Before the army let this scroll be read.”
The eloquent scribe perused the heading, thenRead Caesar’s royal letter to the men:
“To great , exalted king,Whose crown and wisdom God’s own favors bring,
Great sovereign, born of ’s royal line,Whose throne and crown with sacred glory shine,
From Caesar, father to your honored wife,May fame and power attend you all your life.
May height and grace and victory be yours,And every day be New Year at your doors.
May Iran, Turan, and all realms obey,While rival sovereignty is swept away.
May you be glad in heart and bright in soul,In wisdom old, while youthful fortunes roll.
From ’ throne and ’s ancient line,Through , may holy glory shine.
May father after father, son by son,Keep royal stock beneath the circling sun.
May God and chiefs of realm and Faith agreeTo bless the glory of this royal tree.
No prince or mounted warrior equals you;No painted hall has held your peer in view.
You have all manliness and upright grace;May no decline within your soul find place.
In , Iran, and Turan wide,From to Rum on every side,
God gave you birth with purity and light;No holy mother bore a son so bright.
When gave Iran’s land,And placed the realm beneath his royal hand,
He honored Iraj first and cleansed his heartFrom guile and gloom and every crooked art.
You have no want, and Fortune lights your way;With greatness, manhood, charm in your array.
As though God gave you these from His own store,And took the manly fame that others bore.
Your house has fostered virtue, grace, and giving;None from this stock brought grief upon the living.
Your foes have borne their taxes, dues, and loads,Like burdened oxen trudging dusty roads.
Since ; may his soul stay young;No equal from the mighty kings has sprung.
That prudent king raised bulwarks from the deep,And let the world in guarded quiet sleep.
He cleared the elm wood of the Turkish foe,And blessings came from both the high and low.
Arabs and Indians, Iranians too,Put on their belts for service, firm and true.
From Chin’s sea to the land he reigned,And every foe of Iran was restrained.
From to the western gate,His name made crowned and mighty rulers wait.
, , , and TurkistanAccepted lordship from the Shah of Iran.
For Shahs were sprung from Fereydoon’s own line;All others strayed from justice’s design.
By this new bond now joined between our lines,New glory round my royal forehead shines.
As thirsty men rejoice when water springs,So I rejoice, bound to the king of kings.
Let your great wisdom make me glorious too,And answer what I ask this day of you.
I ask the king to grant this wish of mine,A small request before his power divine.
Christ’s holy Cross within your treasure stands,Brought long ago from Roman border-lands.
For generations kept beneath your care,Restore it now, and grant a father’s prayer.
By doing so, you favor every soul,And win the grateful blessing of the whole.
They will declare: ‘Let time and earth no moreExist without the king whom we adore.’
To Khosrow I shall give my thanks, and prayThrough three night-watches and throughout the day.
Accept my tribute and the gifts I send,My thanks for your acceptance I extend.
May you behold no evil person’s face;May feasts and ritual gain a brighter grace.
Our Faith will shine wherever men have trod;On Sundays we shall pray and worship God.
The mourners lay their faces on the Cross,And rub their locks upon it for their loss.
Then we shall wash old vengeance from the heart,And let the ancient enmity depart.
The feud with and in days of old,From Fereydoon’s time, kept its bitter hold.
Our realm will rest from raids and ancient feuds,From grief that still through every household broods.
Our wives and children have been carried far;Our hearts have known the wound, and bear the scar.
But our new kinship has now calmed the world,And passion’s storming banner now is furled.
May the world’s Maker send His blessings down;May earth bestow its blessing on your crown.”
The Shah heard Caesar’s letter through and through,And secret joy within his spirit grew.
He praised Khanagi: “Set reserve aside;No longer as a stranger here abide.”
They cleared two halls; each chamber richly storedWith all the envoy needed, bed and board.
He saw the lodging chosen for his stay,And kept beside the Shah from day to day.
At feast, with wine, in hunting and at rest,A month he stayed, a glad and willing guest.
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In briefKhosrow thanks Caesar, defends his own faith, and refuses the Cross: God has no son, the wood is rotten, and sending it would make Iran call him a Christian. He offers any other gift, says he fears Shiruyeh, reports Maryam’s devotion, and loads the embassy with treasure.
When one month passed, wrote,And sent to this considered note.
He opened: “May the great ones’ blessings restOn those who keep a pure heart in their breast,
On those who see God’s work in good and ill,And fear none else, but praise His sovereign will.
He is the Master of the sun and sky,Who holds the turning heavenly sphere on high.
First, all the praises written in your scrollI have received with gladness in my soul.
Your splendid treasure I received entire,But wish you had not borne such toil and fire.
Since holy God has raised your realm so high,It reaches in the starry sky,
Above , , Chin and ’s fame,Great manhood, wisdom, faith adorn your name.
When I was troubled, you assisted me,And wisely set my heart from sorrow free.
Your kinship and your virtuous daughter’s graceBring joy through this new bond of royal race.
The other chiefs all turned their backs in scorn,And passed me by as one but meanly born.
But you became a father in my need,More noble, kind, and generous in deed.
You spoke of , my strength and stay;I heard your words and blessed you straightaway.
I called you pure in faith, and praised you then,A follower of your creed among its men.
Next, what you wrote concerning holy rites,Your Sundays, fasts, and prayers through sacred nights,
The scribe has read to me; I must confessYour words are apt, acceptable, no less.
I feel no shame for ’s ancient way;The world has seen no better to this day.
It teaches justice, goodness, reverence, love,And observation of the stars above.
I know that God exists, and ever tryTo follow justice while the heavens fly.
We do not grant that God has partner, son,Or consort; He is ever only One.
Though thought cannot encompass Him in view,He guides us to His being, ever true.
Now as for ancient tales recalled by youAbout Christ’s Cross and what you ask me to do,
A sound belief takes reason as its guide,And never casts clear judgment far aside.
You say men mourn their Prophet crucified,And call Him Son of God, though there He died.
If He was son, He went to His own sire;Why should that rotten wood your grief inspire?
If Caesar speaks such folly in his scroll,The elders’ laughter will consume the whole.
The Cross that kings had placed within the storeIs not a thing that you should labor for.
If I sent that wood, then far and wideMy land would laugh at me on every side.
For ’s sake, they would declare that IHad turned to Christ, a bishop in their eye.
Whatever else you wish, the road lies clear;Ask, and my royal favor shall appear.
I welcomed all the gifts that you have sent,And know the toil on such a tribute spent.
I gave them to Shiruyeh, to beginA treasury with all you gathered in.
I am concerned for Rum and Iran’s fate;My thoughts on both keep vigil, soon and late.
I fear Shiruyeh, mighty in his reign,May bring both Rum and Iran grief and pain.
From ’s old feud and ’s fierce hate;That vengeful wolf; new grief may lie in wait.
With feuds both new and old, the ancient strifeMay wake again, and trouble every life.
You asked about your daughter, whose fair graceBrings honor to your crown and royal place.
She strives in Christ’s own faith from day to day,And heeds but little of the words I say.
At ease, she joys in this new royal line;May God preserve your crown and make it shine.
May Fortune rest forever at your side,And may no evil near your throne abide.”
The Shah set down his sign on what he wrote; kept safe each line and note.
Then treasure-hoards were opened, stored awayBy Khosrow through full many a former day.
One hundred sixty sacks held gems concealed,Packed hard as stones and with the signet sealed.
Each bag was valued at the same amount:One hundred thousand silver coins by count.
Besides, one hundred forty thousand moreFine Chin brocades came from the treasury store.
Some cloth was gold, with jeweled patterns bright,And five hundred pearls like drops of light.
One hundred sixty rubies, seed-red in hue,Were such as skillful jewelers prize and view.
From Hind and Chin and fine fabrics came,With , stuffs of costly name.
Three hundred camel-loads of treasures greatHe sent to Caesar in imperial state.
To he gave a robe more grandThan gifts to kin or strangers in the land.
With garments, steeds and thrones in rich display,And trappings, loaded camels went their way.
A hundred camels bore that rich array;Ten loads were gold for him to take away.
He gave philosophers both gold and more,With silver and rich gifts from treasure store.
The embassy departed, glad of heart;The chiefs blessed Khosrow as they saw them part.
Next in the poemE7 · The Story of Khosrow Parviz and ShirinOr read the notes on E5 and E6, or see Bahram Chubin and Khosrow Parviz.