New NaqqaliShah of Iran · House of Kay · the Kayanian line
Kay Khosrowکیخسرو
kay khos-ROWalso Khosrow (Vol I–II)
Son of Siavash and Farangis, raised among shepherds; king of Iran. He avenges his father on Afrasiab, then gives the throne to Lohrasp and vanishes in the snow.
- His story
- From B10.10, Afrasiab Sends Kay Khosrow to Khutan, to C4.64, Lohrasp Learns Kay Khosrow Has Vanished
- Named
- 493 times, in 183 dastans; often simply “the Shah”
- Parents
- Siavash, Farangis
- Plates
- Vol I: V, Vol I: VI, Vol II: I, Vol II: II, Vol II: III
His story, in the poem’s own sections
10 sections, with the summary from the Notes. Open any one to read it in full here; tap a couplet number to cite it or suggest a better one.
B10.17
Giv Finds Kay Khosrow
🏇💪📆📆📆🏜️⛰️😔👦👑👀😲🗣️👨👦🧬👕🔍✅😭🙏🤝🤫22 emoji · the whole poem in emoji →
After seven years of wandering, Giv finds a youth by a stream who looks like Siavash. Kay Khosrow greets him by name, for Siavash foretold his coming, and proves his identity with the black birthmark of the Kayanian line.
77 couplets · Kay Khosrow named 7 times · in the full poem
Like one gone mad, brave Giv searched far and wide,For signs of where the hidden prince might hide.
Seven long years he wandered without rest,While sword and girdle galled him, sore oppressed.
Fed on Gur-e-Khar, in their hides he fared,And drank salt water all the wild had spared.
Through desert lands and mountain paths he went,In ceaseless toil, his days in exile spent.
Far from all men, in hardship and in pain,He roamed the wild with nothing left to gain.
At that same time, bold Rostam crossed the tide,And brought his army to the nearer side.
Afrasiab returned to Gang, his hold,And seized again the realm he ruled of old.
He said to Piran: “Bring the prince awayFrom Machin; to his mother take him straightaway.
But guard the roads and watch each hidden trail;Let none pass through; let vigilance prevail.”
A messenger rode forth on camel strong,And brought the son of Siavash along.
The prudent son of Siavash came home,Back to the land where he once used to roam.
They brought him home to where his mother stayed,And peaceful years rolled on, his fears allayed.
Time passed while Giv still wandered, worn and torn,Through Turan’s lands in grief and sorrow borne.
One day, weighed down by anxious thought and care,He reached a fruitful grove, abundant, fair.
He wandered through the meadow, pale and worn,While all the world seemed bright, his heart forlorn.
The earth lay green, the streams ran full and wide,A place for rest and ease on every side.
He loosed his horse and let it roam at will,Then slept upon the ground, and troubled still.
He said: “Did some evil Div deceive his sight,And dress Gudarz’s dream in seeming right?
No trace I find of Khosrow anywhere;What profit lies in all this fruitless care?
While comrades fight and feast in distant lands,And chase their joy or fame at fate’s commands,
My fortune, like a walnut on a dome,Can never rest, nor find a settled home.
I waste my life; my back bends like a bow;My fruitless labor brings me only woe.
Perhaps no prince was ever born below,Or time has cast him where no man can go.
This quest has yielded hardship, grief, and pain;Blessed the one whom poison frees from strain.”
With sorrow in his heart he roamed the plain,Still searching meadows, restless and in vain.
At last beside a shining stream he sawA youth whose beauty filled his soul with awe.
Tall as a cypress, wine cup in his hand,A many-colored wreath above him spanned.
His bearing showed the farr of royal right,And wisdom’s banner shone before Giv’s sight.
He seemed Siavash, living and restored,On ivory throne, with crown of royal lord.
The scent of love arose from that bright face,His locks seemed made a royal crown to grace.
Giv thought: “This is the prince I sought to see;That royal seat is made for such as he.”
He left his horse and went on foot ahead,While hope revived the spirit he thought dead.
As nearer still he came, his grief withdrew;The knot of seven years of sorrow flew.
The treasure long concealed now met his eyes,His years of sacrifice earned this great prize.
When Khosrow saw him standing by the stream,His heart grew glad as one awaked from dream.
He smiled and thought: “This must be Giv the brave,The man foretold, who comes my life to save.
Such form and bearing show a spirit high;He comes to lead me home to Iran’s sky.”
The prince stepped forward from his resting place,And spoke with calm assurance, face to face:
“O Giv, well met, with farr and justice bright;How did you cross this border in your flight?
What news of Tus, Gudarz, and Kavus’s throne?Are they all well, and is my name still known?
What of brave Rostam, towering in his might,And Zal, and all who stand prepared to fight?”
Giv heard these words and stood transfixed with awe,Then praised the God whose guiding hand he saw.
He said: “O noble chief, exalted one,All hearts still yearn for you, long-lost king’s son.
You are the son of Siavash; now I knowKayanian blood and Khosrow’s farr you show.
But tell me, noble prince, and answer true:Who spoke of Gudarz and his house to you?
Who spoke of Keshvad, who of Giv? Who broughtThese names to you? What faithful tongue has taught?”
The prince replied: “My mother told me all,When my dear father faced his final fall.
My father spoke, his God-given farr still bright,And gave his final counsel at grief’s height:
He told my mother all that fate would send,The evil that would reach us in the end.
‘At last Kay Khosrow shall arise and reign,The key that opens every binding chain.
Then famed and valiant Giv shall Turan find,And come from Iran with his task in mind.
From Iran’s land to lead him to the throne,And make his royal worth and power known.
His strength shall cleanse the world and right each wrong,And vengeance shall be his, both just and strong.’”
Then Giv replied: “O head of all the great,What sign confirms the farr that marks your state?
Siavash bore a dark and royal sign,Like one black spot within a rose design.
Reveal your arm and let me plainly seeThe sign that proves your noble pedigree.”
The prince then bared his arm without delay,And showed the royal birthmark clear as day.
A dark birthmark from Kay Qobad’s old line,A Kayanian token, clear in its design.
When Giv beheld the sign, he bowed to earth;His tears proclaimed the truth of Khosrow’s birth.
Giv clasped the Shah and blessed his royal name;And joy rose in his heart like sudden flame.
The prince gave thanks and asked of Iran’s state,Of throne and kings, of warriors and fate.
Of Rostam fierce, and Gudarz wise and old,And how the chiefs of Iran’s realm might hold.
Then Giv replied: “O lord of fortune bright,If God showed Paradise before my sight,
And gave the seven climes beneath my hand,With Kayanian crown and high command,
Though crown and throne and all dominion were mine,No gift could make my heart so brightly shine.
To see your face here in this foreign landSurpasses wealth and power, however grand.
None knows in Iran whether I survive,Or lie beneath the earth, or burn alive.
If I could see Siavash alive again,I would ask him what grief he suffered then.
But thanks to God, who brought my toil to end,And turned my grief to joy, my heart to mend.”
Together then they left that wood, and straight,Khosrow then asked of Kavus and his state,
Of seven years of hardship, food, and sleep,And all the grief his lonely road made deep.
Giv told what God had set beneath the sky,The dream, his food and garb, the years gone by.
How Kavus’s farr had faded from its height,And grief had stripped the aging Shah of might;
How Iran’s color, fragrance, wealth had fled,And ruin spread where prosperous life had led.
Khosrow’s heart burned to hear such sorrow told,His cheeks flushed red, his spirit fierce and bold.
He said, “Your pain gives way to ease at last;Be as my father now your trials are past.
Tell no one what has happened here today;And watch what time and turning fortune say.”
B10.28
Kay Khosrow Crosses the Jihun
🌊🌊👦👑🙏✨🐎👩🏇💪💦➡️🏞️✅👑🐎😡👀❌↩️20 emoji · the whole poem in emoji →
Trusting his farr, Khosrow prays and rides Behzad into the flooded Jihun, and all three cross safely. The amazed ferryman follows with gifts, which Giv refuses. Houman persuades Afrasiab not to pursue into Iran.
49 couplets · Kay Khosrow named 2 times · in the full poem
Then Giv addressed the prince: “If Khosrow’s nameIs truly yours, this flood shall bring no shame.
When Fereydoon once crossed the Arvand’s tide,His farr made all the world bow at his side.
If Shah of Iran, refuge of the brave,Why should you fear the fury of this wave?
With farr and royal station as your right,How can these waters overcome your might?
If your mother or I sink in the deep,Do not lament; your life is ours to keep.
The world desired the child your mother bore;The Shahanshah’s throne will lack its king no more.
My mother bore me for this very end,To serve your throne, your royal life defend.
Delay, or Afrasiab soon will ride,And reach us raging at the river’s side.
He will then hang me from the gallows high,Then cast you both to fish, or hooves, to die.”
Then Khosrow said: “Enough. So be it done.My refuge rests in Yazdan, saving One.”
He left his steed and cried in fervent need,Then laid his face upon the dust to plead:
“You are my refuge, strength, and guiding way;Your justice lights the darkness of my day.
In ease and hardship, farr from You it springs;My soul and wisdom shelter beneath Your wings.”
He rose, a morning star before their sight,Then mounted Shabrang, radiant and bright.
He urged the dark horse into Jihun’s tide,And like a ship across the flood did ride.
With Giv and Farangis close at his side,All three passed through the swelling waters wide.
Beyond the flood they reached the farther land;He washed his head and body on the strand.
Among the reeds he prayed with heart made pure,And praised the Maker, whose great works endure.
The ferryman, amazed at what he saw,Stood stunned and silent, filled with fear and awe.
He said: “Behold a marvel none can meet;No mortal mind could grasp so strange a feat.
In springtime Jihun, through its raging spans,Three steeds, three jowshans, three bargostvans.
No sage would number them with mortal kind,Who crossed such depths and left the flood behind.”
He cursed the raw demand that he had made,And saw his market ruined by the trade.
He loaded all his goods into his boat,And raised its sail to follow, set afloat.
He came behind the Shah to make amends,And reached him where the riverbank extends:
A bow, a casque, a kamand finely wrought,With all the goods his ferryboat had brought.
But Giv replied: “You witless dog!” he cried.“You claimed the stream would sweep us in its tide.
To such a Shah, who asked you for a boat,You gave refusal, keeping it afloat.
Now keep your gifts; your offerings are vain;A day will come when you recall this pain.”
The ferryman withdrew in grief and dread,As though he bade farewell to life instead.
Still sore afraid, he neared the ferry lane,The Turanian army reached the river plain.
He saw no boat, no rider in the stream;Afrasiab cried out, his wrath a scream:
“How did that Div cross Jihun’s raging span?What secret path was found by such a man?”
The ferryman replied: “My father keptThis toll before me; I in turn accept.
Yet never have I heard or seen it saidThat Jihun could be crossed like earth instead.
In flood-time no one entering survives;The waves drag all beneath and take their lives.
Yet these three riders crossed as though they flew,As if the sky itself had borne them through.
They seemed as though the wind itself gave birth,Or Yazdan sent them among men on earth.”
Afrasiab grew pale at what was told,And sighed from grief, his breath and spirit cold.
He said: “Launch now the boat with all your might;Make ready fast and follow in their flight.
See where the fugitives have gone from here,Or whether they lie sleeping somewhere near.
Bring up the boat; no longer pause or wait;We must discover where they stopped of late.”
Then Houman spoke: “O king, restrain your fire,And do not let rash fury rule desire.
Would you pursue Iran with this small band,And fall to lions waiting in that land?
Gudarz stands close with Piltan Rostam near,And Tus, and Gorgin, breaker of the spear.
Have you grown weary of your throne and crown,To seek the lions’ claws that strike you down?
Your realm from Chin to Machin still endures;The sun, moon, Saturn, Pleiades are yours.
No harm from Iran need disturb you now;Hold fast your realm beneath your royal brow.”
So from Jihun they turned with hearts blood-red,And afterward long days and seasons fled.
B10.37
Kavus Sets Khosrow upon the Throne
👦👑👴❤️🤝🪑👑💎🎉👥🙇👨👦💭⏳⚖️🎁🕊️17 emoji · the whole poem in emoji →
Kavus seats Khosrow on his own throne, crowns him, and takes a lower seat. The nobles hail him as Shah and shower jewels. The poet reflects on the world’s giving and taking, and urges joy and generosity.
16 couplets · Kay Khosrow named 2 times · in the full poem
They left their steeds, and blessings rang aloud;Khosrow kissed Kavus’s hand, and low he bowed.
Kavus then took the prince in his embrace,And led him to the monarch’s sitting-place.
He set him in the place that was his own,Then had the Kayan crown brought to the throne.
He kissed and crowned the prince with solemn care,Then left the ivory throne and took a chair.
He brought out emeralds, a nisar rare,And royal jewels scattered everywhere.
Again the name of Siavash he blessed,Whose living image Khosrow’s face expressed.
Then all the nobles gathered in the hall,The chiefs, sepahbods, high-born leaders all.
They hailed him Shah and scattered gems around,With pearls and royal jewels on the ground.
This world will take with one hand, give with one;Such is its way beneath the turning sun.
We climb the heights, then sink to depths below,And suffer through the world’s deceptive flow.
If joy can dwell within your heart, my son,May life endure until its course is run.
Take joy in wealth and give with open hand;Let grief not cloud the days at your command.
Take what you need, then give the rest away;Do not for foes make bitter your own day.
God gave you wealth, and to your child will give;Thus from the parent tree the branch shall live.
See how the earth is filled with wealth and grace,With every good bestowed in every place.
The Just One’s gifts can never know an end;Seek joy, and let no grief your spirit bend.
C2.13
The Cup Reveals Bijan
🌸👨👦😢👑🙏🕯️🏆🥣✨♈🌍👁️🔎🕳️👦⛓️👸🍞😭🗣️👨👦😮💨🏇💪📨🧭26 emoji · the whole poem in emoji →
At Nowruz Khosrow prays, then takes the world-revealing cup and reads the heavens in it. He searches the seven climes in vain until, by Yazdan’s leave, he sees Bijan chained in a pit in Gorgasaran with a noble maid tending him. Only Rostam can free him.
31 couplets · Kay Khosrow named 2 times · in the full poem
When joyful New Year’s Day at last returned,For Khosrow’s world-revealing cup Giv yearned.
Bent double, bearing grief that was his own,The Pahlevan came hoping to the throne.
Khosrow beheld his cheeks, sunken and spare,And felt the grief that Giv had come to bear.
The Shah then clothed himself in Roman dress,And stood before Yazdan, in humbleness.
Before the World-Creator he cried loud,And on the sun laid praise, and praise, and bowed.
He prayed for strength, for judgment’s cleansing flame,To break dark Ahriman’s malignant aim.
Then to his throne he came in royal state,Put on Kayanian crown, and read his fate.
He took the cup and gazed, and in its roundThe seven climes and heaven’s signs were found.
Within its depths, in order, form, and scope,Appeared each act, decree, and mortal hope.
From Pisces round to Aries, sign by sign,The zodiac appeared in one design.
Saturn, Mars, Jupiter, the Lion’s glow;Venus and Mercury up, the Moon below.
All that would come to pass lay there displayed;The World-Holder, enchanter, read and weighed.
He scanned the seven climes for Bijan’s trace,But found no sign of him in any place.
He came to Gorgasaran’s land at last,And by Yazdan’s command beheld him fast.
Bound in a pit with heavy chains he lay,And, in his anguish, prayed to pass away.
A daughter of Kayanian race was near,Who tended him through misery and fear.
The Shah smiled gently from the royal seat,Then turned to Giv; his words were calm and sweet:
“Bijan still lives; take heart and grieve no more;Keep your great body free of every sore.
And grieve not for his prison or his cell;No hurt has touched his life, and all is well.
He lies in dark Turan, beyond our sight,A noble maid attends him day and night.
Yet sorrow fills me deeply for his chains,His hunger, hardship, and his endless pains.
So pass his days; and at each hour that fliesShe weeps above him with her bitter cries.
He has no hope to see his kin appear,But shakes like willow-boughs in rain and fear.
Blood fills his eyes and anguish fills his heart;My name is on his tongue and will not part.
Both weep like springtime clouds that overflow;He seeks his death in such a life of woe.
Who now will stir himself, and take the road?Who rise up girded for so hard a load?
Who keeps his faith with us in this our need,And brings him free of hardship by his deed?
None but the sharp-clawed Rostam, whose strong handDraws up the nahang from the deep sea’s sand.
Gird up your belt; to Nimruz haste away,And rest not on that road by night or day.
Bear him my letter; give it him alone,And on the road let nothing more be known.
I shall send for him, and lay all this bare,And make an end, O Giv, of your despair.”
C4.9
Khosrow Slays Shideh
👑🐎⬇️👦👣🤼💪🗡️🎯💀👑🕯️⚱️📨👨👦😭😡⚔️18 emoji · the whole poem in emoji →
Khosrow lifts Shideh and throws him, breaking his back, then stabs him through the heart. He mourns him, orders a royal washing and burial, and sends the interpreter back as a witness. Afrasiab tears his hair, and his nobles swear a new vengeance.
43 couplets · Kay Khosrow named 5 times · in the full poem
The Shah dismounted from his night-dark steed,And bared his head, intent upon the deed.
He gave Rohham the noble charger’s rein,Then strode like holy fire across the plain.
When Shideh saw Khosrow come on apace,He left his steed and met him face to face.
Like elephants they grappled, locked and bound,And blood was mingled with the trampled ground.
When Shideh saw Khosrow’s commanding frame,And God’s own farr that clothed his royal name,
He sought some crafty means by which to flee;Once gone the head, what could the body be?
Khosrow perceived his thought, though none was said,And moved with God’s own strength in hand and head.
He sprang upon him like a lion boldThat seizes on a gur within its hold.
Left hand on neck, his right upon the back,He raised and hurled him down with fierce attack.
His backbone broke like reeds beneath the strain;His sinews snapped, undone by crushing pain.
Then drawing forth his sharp and tempered blade,He pierced the heart that armor could not aid.
He tore the jowshan, grieving for the dead,Cast handfuls of the dust upon his head.
To Rohham: “This ill-omened chief,” he cried,“My mother’s valiant brother, now has died.
Treat him with kindness, though his life is done;Prepare a royal tomb for this king’s son.
With musk, rosewater, fragrant balm, be sureTo wash his flesh; his head with camphor pure.
A golden torque around his neck shall rest;With ambergris his cap shall then be dressed.”
His interpreter looked toward the plain,And saw the body of the prince lie slain.
They raised him blood-stained from the stretch of sand,And bore him toward Khosrow’s awaiting band.
The interpreter drew near with cries of woe:“O just and glorious Shah, your mercy show.
A humble servant’s duty was my trade;No warrior’s hand or champion’s part I played.
O Shah, forgive me through your kindness here;May joy in you delight the heavenly sphere.”
Khosrow replied: “At my grandfather’s court,Make all you saw of me your full report.”
The nobles watched the road with anxious eyes:“When will Prince Shideh come?” arose their cries.
A rider sped across the yielding sand,Bareheaded, weeping, toward the royal band.
He told Afrasiab what had occurred,Concealing nothing of the deed or word.
The king despaired of all the world held dear,And tore his camphor-white locks in his fear.
He scattered dust upon his royal head;The army’s champion had departed, dead.
All those who saw the Turkish monarch’s faceBeat breasts and tore their robes in that sad place.
A cry arose among the ranks below:“The sun and moon their mercy now bestow!”
Then Afrasiab cried out in his grief:“No rest or sleep shall bring me more relief.
Stand as companions in this grief I bear;Let every man in all my mourning share.
Our swords shall stay unsheathed upon the plain;I shall know joy no more, but only pain.
Now arm yourselves; leave nothing whole or soundOf all Iran, its mountains and its ground.
Count him no man, but beast devoid of heart,Who does not mourn that Shideh must depart.
May eyes that shed no tears of blood with mineHave neither shame nor moisture left to shine.”
He mourned that warrior with his face of light,That cypress by the stream, so tall and bright.
He wept red tears, relentless in his pain,A grief no healer knew how to restrain.
The nobles answered, sharing all his woe,And spoke these words to soothe that bitter blow:
“May God, the just Judge, ease this grief for you,And fill your enemies with terror too.
Not one shall rest by night or breathe by day;For Shideh’s death, revenge shall find its way.
We shall raise war-cries till the heavens ring,And stake our heads in battle for the king.
The feud for Piran, Houman, scarcely past,Now vengeance upon vengeance gathers fast.”
Their hearts were broken for their monarch’s sake;The field with cries and tumult seemed to shake.
C4.21
Gang-Behesht Falls to Kay Khosrow
🌅🏰🪖🪖🐘🏹🪨💥🛠️🪵🔥🧱💥🏇💪⛓️👥🩸💀👩👶😭🏆23 emoji · the whole poem in emoji →
Khosrow assaults the fortress on four sides, ringing it with a trench and hundreds of engines. His miners undercut the walls, prop them with timber soaked in naphtha and fire it. The ramparts fall, Rostam storms the breach, Jahan and Garsivaz are taken alive, and the city is plundered.
74 couplets · Kay Khosrow named 1 time · in the full poem
All night, until the sun rose in the sky,And peaks, like white-backed elephants, shone high,
Afrasiab continued to array his force;No Turkish rider slept or left his horse.
When all the kousts resounded out of Gang,And iron earth beneath black heaven rang,
The Shah, Mobadan’s chief, at dawn’s first lightBestrode his charger, ready for the fight.
At dawn he circled all the guarded place,And marked each point where troops might force a space.
He ordered Rostam to assail one side,With mountain-like battalions in their pride.
Brave Gostaham, the son of Nohzar, cameTo seize another quarter, crowned with fame.
Wise old Gudarz commanded on the third,While Khosrow held the fourth by royal word.
Tabiras, elephants, and mounted men,He brought his well-equipped ranks forward then.
The Shah commanded all the troops to lendTheir strength to dig a trench from end to end.
All men experienced in siegecraft’s art,Who had the strength for war, must play their part.
From Rum and Chin and Hind the veterans came,War-tested warriors of enduring fame.
With veteran chiefs they circled round the wall,To learn where best to breach or scale it all.
They dug a trench two spear-lengths deep; aroundIts circuit, troops were posted on the ground,
Lest any sally in the night be made,And catch them off their guard in such a raid.
Two hundred arradas stood at each gate;Behind, two hundred manjaniqs lay in wait.
Two hundred bow-engines stood ranged belowEach gate, to strike the heads the walls might show.
If heads rose from the wall, the engines castTheir stones like hail upon them, thick and fast.
Behind them Roman troops controlled each frame,And worked the engines with a practiced aim.
Two hundred elephants obeyed the call,And hauled the marble round the outer wall.
Beneath the ramparts they dug out the ground,Then set supporting pillars all around.
The walls, now undermined, were held in placeBy timber shores beneath their broken base.
On every timber naphtha then was spread;The walls stood firm, but ruin lay ahead.
The shafts and catapult stones beat the tower;The proud turned pale as saffron in that shower.
Below were wood and naphtha, fire and heat;Above, the heavy gorzes struck and beat.
On all four sides the siege was thus prepared;No quarter of the fortress would be spared.
When all was ready, Iran’s shah sought prayer,And turned to God in sorrow and in care.
He sought a place to bow apart from men,And told the World-Creator secrets then.
He writhed upon the ground, a snake in pain,And praised Yazdan, with vengeance in each vein:
“To You belong success and sovereign might;In every strait we seek Your aiding light.
If You perceive my cause is just, I pray,Keep firm my foot; let none drive me away.
Cast down the sorcerers from throne and state,And give me joy, good fortune, conquering fate.”
When he had prayed, he raised his head upright,And clad his breast in jowshan for the fight.
He fastened on his belt, sprang to his feet,And rushed like smoke where fighting armies meet.
He ordered troops to charge at every gate,And throw their strength against the fortress’ weight.
They set the naphtha-covered beams ablaze;Stones rained on them from overhead through haze.
The bow-engines resounded through the smoke;The bright sun darkened in its dusky cloak.
The engines thundered; dust obscured the view,Till earth was indigo and heaven blue.
Chiefs shouted; trumpeting elephants replied;Swords flashed, and massive gorzes shook each side.
The sun and moon themselves seemed locked in fight,Raining down swords and army dust from height.
The naphtha-covered woodwork caught and burned;By God’s command, the props to ashes turned.
The walls seemed lifting feet to leave their base,Then fell like mountains toppling from their place.
With them fell many Turkish warriors bold,Like drops of rain, down from the shattered hold.
Caught in the sudden snare, their lives were done;So ends the turmoil of each luckless one.
The Iranian war-cry rose in triumph clear;The Shah’s victorious army raised a cheer.
They turned toward the breach, the fighting throng;Fierce Rostam came and drove the charge along.
The city’s ramparts lay in wreckage, torn;To Afrasiab was that grim message borne.
Like dust he came, and raised his urgent cries,To summon Jahan, Garsivaz to rise.
“What use are walls?” he cried. “A fortress falls;The army’s scimitars must be its walls.
For country, children, treasure, kin, and life,Stand firm and arm yourselves to meet the strife.
Link skirts with one another; close the way,And let no foe along our passage stay.”
Then mountain-like the Turkish ranks advanced,And toward the shattered breach their lances danced.
Like lions, both sides clashed in fierce attack;Each answered with a roar that thundered back.
In deep despair the Turkish riders shookLike willows, and all hope of home forsook.
The Shah bade Rostam bring up to the breachThe spear-armed footmen stationed within reach.
He brought renowned and vengeful warriors too,To fill the breach and drive the battle through.
With quivers, swords, and arrows, axes bright,Behind the footmen, horsemen stood to fight.
Their battle-chief stood guard through each attackTo shield them when fierce combat held them back.
Both horse and foot, in bands from every side,Came on like mountains in a moving tide.
Then warlike Rostam, lion in the fight,Led all his forces through the shattered height.
On foot, like dust, he charged amid the fray,And cast the sable standard down that day.
Upon the rampart rose the lion’s sign,The violet flag of Iran’s battle-line.
Iran’s great warriors hailed the Shah’s success,Their cries shook Gang in triumph and distress.
A multitude of Turkish troops were slain;The foe’s good fortune broke upon the plain.
Amid the crisis, Rostam seized and boundTwo warriors, the mightiest to be found:
Jahan and Garsivaz, both widely knownAs mighty pillars of the Turkish throne.
The king’s own son and brother, both forlorn,By troubled fortunes to despair were borne.
Iranian troops poured through the city gate,Their hearts consumed by old and vengeful hate.
They turned to plunder, killing as they went;From every quarter cries of grief were sent.
The women and the children shrank in dread,And raised their cries as they gave ground and fled.
How many women, children young and slight,Were crushed beneath the elephants outright!
The townsfolk fled like wind before the foe;None thought of home, but only where to go.
The throne of Turan’s mighty men fell low;Their eyes wept blood in bitterness and woe.
Their women, children, wealth were taken, lost;Flesh pierced by shafts, their souls in anguish tossed.
C4.43
Kavus and Khosrow Come to Hohm
👴👑👑🧭🧎🙏🗣️🪢🌊👑⛓️👤😭👑👀😢16 emoji · the whole poem in emoji →
The two Shahs come to Hohm, who proposes a lure: torture Garsivaz until his brother answers. Raw ox-hide is sewn round Garsivaz’s shoulders, and his cries bring Afrasiab wading into the shallows, where the brothers lament their lost greatness to each other across the water.
42 couplets · Kay Khosrow named 1 time · in the full poem
The two crowned monarchs, troubled and intent,Went straight to Hohm, on anxious purpose bent.
When Hohm beheld the two crowned Shahs appear,He paid them reverence with a heart sincere.
They blessed him in the name of God on high;Then Shah Kavus spoke warmly in reply:
“Thanks be to God, in whom our refuge lies,That I have looked into this good man’s eyes:
A man of knowledge, mastery, and might,Devoted to Yazdan of truth and light.”
Hohm answered, “May your just rule bring increase;May all your realm be prosperous in peace.
May this young Shah’s new day be blessed, and deathTear all his foes away from life and breath.
I prayed upon this mountain’s lonely height,When Khosrow passed toward Gangdezh in his might,
That He who made the world would make earth bloomThrough him and give prosperity more room.
When he returned, I laughed aloud in praise,And thanked Yazdan who guides us through our days.
At night, the blessed Soroush made it clear,And brought the hidden secret to my ear.
A cry rose from that fathomless dark cave;I heard the voice and marked the sound it gave.
He mourned his ivory throne, his wealth and crown,His realm and troops, his greatness broken down.
Down from the peak I went to that dark hold,And grasped my girdle-kamand, firm and bold.
I saw his head and ears within the shade:Afrasiab had there his refuge made.
I bound him fast as stone, then dragged my preyOut of that narrow cavern into day.
At his request I eased the cord I tied;He slipped it when we reached the waterside.
Now hidden in the lake he lies concealed;His trace on earth must end, his fate be sealed.
If heaven turns against him, in his breastHis love for Garsivaz may stir from rest.
When this exalted Shah gives his command,Bring forth his brother, fettered where we stand.
Sew raw ox-hide across his shoulders tight,Until his body loses strength and might.
When Afrasiab hears his brother’s cry,He may emerge from where the waters lie.”
The guards went forth at once with swords to wield,And each man bore a Gilan-fashioned shield.
They fetched Garsivaz, whose schemes had sownDisorder through the realm from field to throne.
The Shah said, “Headsman, drag him from his place,And strip the veil of shame from off his face.”
They sewed the ox-hide round his shoulders fast,Until his strength and vigor ebbed and passed.
The rawhide tore his flesh; he called for aid,And begged the Maker’s help, in pain, afraid.
When Afrasiab heard his brother’s cry,He rose in tears, in pain that would not die.
He swam until he found a place to stand,His feet at last upon the shallows’ sand.
He heard his brother’s cries; with every breath,The sight before him seemed far worse than death.
When Garsivaz beheld him in the wave,With blood-filled eyes and heart no hope could save,
He cried, “O monarch, lord of every land,Crown of the chiefs and head of every band!
Where are your customs, throne, and royal state?Your crown, your wealth, your armies once so great?
Where is your knowledge, where your mighty hand?Where are the warriors who obeyed command?
Where is your glory on the battlefield?Where are your cups, the joys your banquets yield?
Must you now seek the waters in your need,With such a stubborn star to thwart your deed?”
Then Afrasiab heard him, bowed his head,And wept into the lake in tears blood-red.
He answered, “Through the world I roamed and fled,Both openly and hidden, filled with dread.
I hoped to flee the evil of my fate;Now worse than evil falls upon my state.
My life has lost all worth beneath this blow;My soul is full of anguish, grief, and woe.
Fereydoon’s seed, a son of King Pashang,Now hangs within the jaws of a nahang.
They tear his skin with hide; yet none feels shame,Nor blushes at the torment of his frame.”
C4.50
Soroush Appears to Khosrow in Dream
👑😭🙏🌃😴✨👼🗣️🌟🕊️🪑⏳💰🎁👑🙏🥻🚫👑19 emoji · the whole poem in emoji →
Khosrow prays five weeks more. In a dream Soroush tells him his wish is granted: he is to give his treasure to worthy men, choose a successor who would not harm an ant, and leave the world. He wakes drenched, gives thanks, and sits without crown or armlet.
25 couplets · in the full poem
As soon as they had gone upon their way,He bade the court be screened without delay.
He sat and wept, his face a lapis blue,And writhed in grief as anguish pierced him through.
The Shah stood humbly before God Most High,Entreating Him to guide his inward eye.
He said, “Creator of the skies, whose lightMakes goodness, justice, love burn clear and bright,
This sovereignty can bring me no delight,If I am not found pleasing in Your sight.
Much good I did, and much that has been ill;Grant me in Paradise a dwelling still.”
Five weeks he stood and cried by night and day,Before Yazdan who shows the hidden way.
One night the Shah, from suffering, could not sleep,Until the moon climbed up the azure steep.
Then sleep came on, though wisdom still was bright,His mind awake within the dream of night.
He dreamed that blessed Soroush, drawing near,Spoke secretly a message in his ear.
“O Shah, whom stars and fortune claim their own,You who have handled armlet, crown, and throne,
Now swiftly leave the world and do not stay;All you have sought is yours; be on your way.
Abide no longer in this world of care;A place beside the pure Judge you will share.
Let someone else possess this passing throne;Give worthy men the treasure that you own.
Enrich the poor; let gifts to them increase,And bring your people happiness and peace.
Who flees this dragon’s breath escapes the gripOf dire affliction’s claws that tear and rip.
Each man who bore your hardships had in viewThe wealth he hoped to gain by serving you.
You will not tarry long upon this earth;Bestow your wealth on men of proven worth.
Choose for the throne a king whose rule is sound;Let him not hurt an ant upon the ground.
When you have given the world away, depart;The time of summons presses on your heart.”
He woke from troubled sleep in pouring sweat;His place of prayer lay all about him wet.
He wept, his face pressed down upon the ground,And thanked the Omnipotent, whose grace he found.
He said, “If I depart this very hour,God has fulfilled my wish through His great power.”
He sat again upon the throne; he boreA robe so fresh that none had worn before.
He donned it, on the ivory throne sat down,Without his armlet, gorz, or royal crown.
C4.60
Kay Khosrow Names Lohrasp Shah
👑👦📨👴🪑⬇️👑👴👑🤝⚖️👥😠👨🦳🚫👑🧬🗣️🙏🕊️20 emoji · the whole poem in emoji →
Khosrow calls Lohrasp in, sets his own crown on him and names him Shah. The chiefs are appalled, and Zal denies that Lohrasp has the birth for it. The Shah defends his choice; Zal blackens his lips with dust and submits; Khosrow takes his leave weeping.
57 couplets · Kay Khosrow named 2 times · in the full poem
When kingly business for the chiefs was done,The Shah found rest from labors long begun.
Among the chiefs, Lohrasp’s name still remainedUnread upon the list the Shah maintained.
He bade Bijan bring Lohrasp, cap in place,Before the throne to meet him face to face.
When Khosrow saw Lohrasp before him stand,He rose and greeted him with outstretched hand.
Down from the ivory throne the monarch came,And from his head took off the crown of flame.
He gave Lohrasp the crown, and in that hourHe named him Shah and gave him royal power.
He said, “May fortune bless this crown for you,And make the world your slave in service true.
Since all my toil and pain have reached their end,The crown and treasure to your hand I send.
Speak only words whose root and fruit are just;Through justice you shall conquer and win trust.
Make not the Div a comrade of your soul,If lasting fortune is your chosen goal.
Be wise and let no harm through you take hold;Keep watch upon your soul as you grow old.”
He told Iran’s great chiefs, “Let hearts rejoice;Accept his fortune and uphold my choice.”
The chiefs stared at him, stunned by what they heard,Like raging lions, each to anger stirred.
They marveled at the name their king had brought:To call Lohrasp their Shah confounded thought.
Then Zal arose, and swiftly he addressedThe court, and told what lay within his breast.
He said, “O Shah, whose majesty we trust,You have the power to honor common dust.
May dust fill up that man’s ill-fated head;May nush-daru bring poison in its stead,
Who says Lohrasp is king by rightful name;We will not countenance so wrong a claim.
He came to Iran, to Zarasp drew near;I saw him poor, with but one horse in gear.
You sent him out against the Alan foe,With troops, a flag, and belt you bade him go.
Though chiefs of royal blood abound in fame,The Shah has not remembered one by name.
His birth and worth are both unknown to me;I never heard of such a king to be.”
When Zal, the son of Sahm, had spoken so,The gathering’s anger then began to grow.
A shout arose from Iran’s chiefs, who cried:“We will not arm for him, nor with him ride.
From this day we will shun the battlefield,If crown and throne to this Lohrasp must yield.”
When Khosrow heard the words that Zal had said,He answered, “Curb yourself; let wrath lie dead.
For he who speaks what justice cannot ownWill find but smoke where righteous fire has shone.
God does not bless the evil men have planned;The wicked fall beneath time’s turning hand.
The man whom God has blessed with happy fateIs fit to wear the crown and rule the state.
The Maker is my witness when I sayThat all these virtues light Lohrasp’s way.
Wellborn and modest, he keeps faith and gives;He wins through justice and in gladness lives.
From World-Lord Hushang comes his noble line;Clean hands, clear sight, and wisdom in him shine.
He shall drive out the sorcerers, and makeThe Maker’s holy truth the path men take.
His counsels will renew the age’s youth,And as he is, his son shall walk in truth.
Now hail Lohrasp as wearer of the crown;If you love me, you must not cast him down.
For if a man transgress my last command,His former toils will sink like dust in sand.
Such men give God no thanks for all His grace;And fear besets their hearts from every place.”
When Zal had heard the words the Shah expressed,He reached out, to the dust his finger pressed.
With that black dust he stained his lips, then raisedHis voice: Lohrasp was Shah, whom now he praised.
He said, “O Shah, may happiness draw near;May every evil hand be far from here.
Who but the Shah, victorious and wise,Could know the royal blood that in him lies?
I swore upon black dust; let none condemnMy lips for bearing dust that blackened them.”
The great men showered jewels on the heir,And hailed Lohrasp as Shah with praise and prayer.
He told the chiefs, “Farewell to this bright throne,This heart-delighting seat I called my own.
And when I leave this vile and dusty sphere,I shall ask God to draw our spirits near.”
In taking leave he kissed each warrior’s face;His lashes brimmed with tears and royal grace.
He clasped the heroes close and wept aloud;The tears streamed down his face; his head was bowed.
He cried, “If only I could take you all,The whole assembly gathered in this hall!”
A cry arose from all Iran that day:“The sun within the heavens lost its way!”
From curtained rooms came women, children, men;In streets and markets all assembled then.
All raised their wails and lamentations high;Each quarter answered with a grieving cry.
He told Iran’s assembled chiefs, “One day,You too must take this selfsame mortal way.
All you of noble birth and honored name,Rejoice in Him who set the sun aflame.
I nurture now my soul, and hope to goWith honor from this fleeting world below.
I never bound my heart to this brief stay;Now know Soroush has come to lead my way.”
He called a steed forth from its stall to ride;The army’s cries arose on every side.
He reached the royal palace, bowed with woe,His cypress stature bent beneath the blow.
C4.62
Kay Khosrow Vanishes in the Snow
👑🐎👥🧭👑👴↩️🏜️💧🌃🙏👑👋😢🌬️☁️❄️⚠️18 emoji · the whole poem in emoji →
The army escorts Khosrow to a mountain, where a hundred thousand Iranians beg him to stay. He sends most of them home, keeps five chiefs, rides on to a spring, bathes and prays, and tells them that at sunrise he will be gone and snow will close the road.
51 couplets · Kay Khosrow named 2 times · in the full poem
Khosrow and his Pahlevans mounted to ride,As though for pleasure, at an easy stride.
At length, he bade Lohrasp turn back and said:“My day is done; its final light has fled.
Preserve the customs of the royal throne,And sow good seed through realms that are your own.
When you find ease, released from toil and pain,And pride in crown and treasure starts to wane,
Then know the hour of leaving has drawn near;The road to God grows narrow for you here.
Seek justice, deal it out, and bring reliefTo noble men bowed down by worldly grief.”
Lohrasp dismounted quickly from his steed,And kissed the dust in sorrow, grief, and need.
Khosrow said, “Go in peace; in all you do,Be warp and woof of justice, firm and true.”
Iran’s great chieftains journeyed with their king,The wise and brave beneath his sheltering wing.
Zal, Rostam, Gudarz, Giv rode in the train,With bold Bijan and Gostaham on the plain.
The seventh, Fariborz, from Kavus came;The eighth was Tus, a man of warlike fame.
The army marched in troops, and did not stopUntil they reached the mountain’s lofty top.
They rested for a week; the weary menBrought moisture to their thirsty lips again.
They wondered at the Shah and at his plan,A labor past the reasoning of man.
Each learned sage spoke softly, filled with awe:“No age has known such wonders as we saw.”
When sun above the hills began to rise,A multitude appeared before his eyes.
A hundred thousand came with grief again,Iranians gathered there, both women, men.
The mountain filled with outcry, sobs, and moans,Until their sorrow seemed to move the stones.
The people cried, “O Shah, what pains your soul,That grief has drawn your wisdom from its goal?
If from the army you have suffered pain,Or hold this royal crown in deep disdain,
Tell us, and do not leave Iran’s great throne;Give not this ancient world a king unknown.
We are the dust beneath your charger’s tread;At Azargashasp we bow each humbled head.
Where are your wisdom, judgment, senses clear?To Fereydoon Soroush did not appear.
We all will raise our prayers to God on high,Within the fire-temple raise our cry,
That holy God may bring you back, and pourLight in the priests’ hearts, and their joy restore.”
The king of kings, astonished, called asideThe learned sages from the weeping tide.
He said, “All here is good; do not complain,Nor weep at happiness as though at pain.
Give thanks to God for all that you have known;Acknowledge Him, the holy God, alone.
For soon we shall be gathered, you and I;Do not lament because I say goodbye.”
Then to the chiefs he said, “Now turn away;Return without your old shah; do not stay.
The road is long and hard; no waters flow,No grass or leafy branches there will grow.
Cut short the road by leaving me behind,And toward the light direct both soul and mind.
Not everyone can cross these sands; they barAll but the tall in stature, rich in farr.”
Three warriors heeded him and turned again:Zal, Rostam, Gudarz, wisest among men.
Their aims were lofty, and their vision wide;With watchful minds they left the monarch’s side.
Tus, Giv, Fariborz stayed, a steadfast band,With Gostaham and Bijan, through the sand.
They traveled for a day and through the night,Distressed by barren sands and drought’s harsh bite.
At last a spring appeared beside the way;Toward it advanced the Shah without delay.
They all dismounted by that water clear,Ate food, and rested from their march and fear.
The Shah addressed the lords who marched with him:“Here let us stay until the stars grow dim.
Let us recall the past throughout the night;Hereafter I shall vanish from your sight.
When radiant sun uplifts its flag of gold,And dark earth brightens under morning’s hold,
Then comes the hour in which I pass away,With blessed Soroush guiding me that day.
If my heart darkens and rejects this road,I will tear it out beneath its mortal load.”
As night advanced, the famed Kayanian kingPrayed to his God beside the flowing spring.
He bathed his head and body in the flow,And read the Zand-Avesta, soft and low.
He told the wise companions gathered near,“Farewell forever, friends whom I hold dear.
When sunlight lifts its spear and morning gleams,You shall behold me only in your dreams.
Tomorrow leave these sands and go your way;Though clouds rain musk, you must no longer stay.
A fierce wind from the mountains shall descend,To break the branches, leaves and boughs to rend.
Black clouds shall pour down snow across the plain,And you will seek Iran’s road home in vain.”
Family
- Parents
- Siavash, Farangis
- Succeeded by
- Lohrasp
Volume I · Plate VThe Kayanian HouseKay Qobad to Kay Khosrow · B3–B14
Volume I · Plate VIThe House of Turthe kings and captains of Turan · A6–B14
Volume II · Plate IThe Crown in Volume IIKay Khosrow to Iskandar · C4–D5
Volume II · Plate IIThe Last of Kay Qobad’s LineKay Kavus to Kay Khosrow · C4
Volume II · Plate IIIThe House of Afrasiabthe fall of Turan · C2–C4Where he appears
Named mentions by book, from the Universe Registry. Titles such as “the Shah” and epithets are not counted.
B1The Crisis after Manuchehr1B9The Story of Siavash17B10Vengeance for Siavash and the Retrieval of Kay Khosrow82B11Kay Khosrow’s Kingship22B12Forood and the Snowstorm Campaign23B13Mount Hamavan and the Kamus Campaign33B14The Great Battle with the Khan of Chin16C1Rostam and the Div Akvan11C2The Tale of Bijan and Manijeh40C3The Battle of the Twelve Rukhs62C4The Final Afrasiab Wars and the Disappearance of Kay Khosrow168C5Lohrasp6C6Goshtasb, Zardosht, and the War with Arjasp1C8The Tragedy of Rostam and Esfandiyar8D1The Reign of Bahman, Son of Esfandiyar2D5The Iskandar Cycle3D10The Bahram Goor Cycle: Justice, Foreign Adventures, and End of a Reign1D11Short Reigns and a Crisis with Khoshnavaz1E1The Story of Mahbud and Other Matters1E5Hormizd, Son of Anooshirvan1E6Khosrow Parviz3E7The Story of Khosrow Parviz and Shirin1E8Shiruyeh’s Coup and the End of the Great Reign1E10Yazdegard1