Book B4The War with Mazandaran

If harm should touch a tree once grown to height,Its leaves shall wither and grow pale to sight.

Its root grows weak, its lofty crown bends low,And all its former strength begins to go.

When severed cleanly from its rooted place,A younger shoot arises in its space.

To it he leaves the blossom, leaf, and bowers,A spring that shines like lamps among the flowers.

But if that shoot be crooked, harsh, or wild,Let not the root be judged for such a child.

So when a father leaves the world he knew,He shows his son what once was hid from view.

If he casts off his father’s farr and name,Call him no son, but stranger to that fame.

He who abandons wisdom’s tested wayShall meet what Time has stored for him that day.

This ancient world is fashioned in such guise,Its root and crown elude the searching eyes.

No man can trace its ending or its start,However wise his searching mind and heart.

Who knows the world and sees its crooked wayWill scarcely wish within its bounds to stay.

So turn your thought to words the old have known,And heed the wisdom age and time have shown.

Remember what the seasoned sages tell;Their words may light the path where shadows dwell.

When Kay Kavus assumed his father’s throne,The world became his servant and his own.

He saw vast heaps of treasure piled up high,And all the world bowed underneath his eye.

Torques, earrings, and a crown of shining gold,With emeralds whose green fires brightly rolled.

Full-maned Tazi horses stood in line;No steeds on earth could match their breed and shine.

No monarch matched his wealth or jeweled display,Or rivaled him in splendor or array.

One day he sat with wine and courtly grace,Within a gold-adorned garden place,

Upon a throne whose crystal feet shone bright,And weighed with Iran’s Pahlevans wrong and right.

Before the chiefs he raised his boastful voice:“Who else is Shah? Who else can make that choice?

What throne exists but mine beneath the Sun?What glory rivals all that I have won?”

He drank and boasted, swollen with delight;The chiefs stared on, astonished at the sight.

As thus he spoke, flushed deep with wine and pride,A hidden Div approached the chamberlain’s side.

He told the guard: “From Mazandaran’s landI come, a singer skilled in voice and hand.

If I am worthy, let me near the throne,And sing before the Shah whose name is known.”

The chamberlain announced him to the king:“A bard awaits with barbat fit to sing.”

The Shah gave leave; they brought him to the hall,And seated him among the players all.

He tuned his barbat and struck a subtle tone,Then sang of lands more fair than any known:

“May Mazandaran ever honored be;May all its land bloom on eternally.

Upon its slopes the crimson tulips blaze,And hyacinths perfume the mountain ways.

No burning heat, no bitter cold to bear;Eternal spring adorns the tempered air.

The nightingale in every garden sings,And deer move freely by the mountain springs.

All year in every place are scent and hue,And every garden keeps its colors new.

Like rosewater the fragrant rivers flow,Their perfume gladdens every soul below.

Through Dey and Bahman, Azar, Farvardin,The tulip-covered earth stays fresh and green.

All year the smiling streambanks laugh and shine,And hunting hawks stand ready down the line.

Rich brocades clothe provinces far and wide,And golden treasures fill each hall inside.

Fair maidens wear bright crowns of beaten gold,And famous men gold girdles round them hold.

Who has not seen that land knows not delight,Nor feels the fullness of its living light.”

These words inflamed the heart of Kavus then;He turned and spoke before assembled men.

To far Mazandaran he set his mind,And vowed to lead all Iran’s strength combined.

“We have surrendered all our days to feast;Through ease and idleness a hero is decreased.

In fortune, farr, and lineage I stand high;Jamshid, Zahhak, Kay Qobad cannot vie.

I must surpass them also in renown,And win new glory worthy of my crown.

A crown-bearer must seek the world for fame;Great kings enlarge by deeds their lasting name.”

The nobles heard; their faces turned to clay,Their brows drew tight with fear and deep dismay.

For none would war against the Divs’ dark might,Yet none dared challenge Kavus in his sight.

There Tus, Giv, and Gudarz stood nearby,Masking the fear they could no more deny,

With Keshvad, Kharrad, Gorgin, Bahram near,Each hid beneath his words a rising fear.

They said aloud: “We serve you as you will,”Yet spoke in secret of approaching ill.

Then privately the chiefs withdrew as one,And formed a council when their speech was done.

They asked, “What stroke has Fortune brought today?What evil turns our sovereign from the way?

If he pursues these wine-born words and goes,Then ruin waits for Iran from its foes.

If he will not forget what wine has bred,Then Iran’s strength and royal line lie dead.

No man shall stay, no water, soil, or field;All Iran’s earth and water then must yield.

Jamshid, though Div and bird and pari obeyed,With crown and ring, no such invasion made.

Nor wise Fereydoon sought that haunted land,Though wisdom, might, and magic filled his hand.

If conquest there had ever brought renown,Manuchehr would have struck all its Divs down.

We must devise a way to turn him back,Or all shall perish on this fatal track.”

Then Tus declared: “One remedy remains;Send word to Zal across the dusty plains.

The remedy is one and not too hard;We still may turn this danger from our guard.

Send swift hiyun to summon him; we needHis wisdom to restrain this reckless deed.

Though flowers may rest upon his head today,Bid him sharpen thought and cast his ease away.

Perhaps his counsel, opening wise and clear,May reach the Shah’s high heart and turn his ear.

Tell Zal that Ahriman has bent his thought;The Divs’ dark gate must never thus be sought.

If Zal cannot recall him from this course,The matter reaches then its final force.”

A rider hastened forth without delay,And reached great Zal at midday on his way.

“O renowned chief, great Sahm’s illustrious son,Something beyond our grasp has now begun.

A matter has arisen, dark and strange,Beyond what knowledge knows or thought can range.

Unless you gird yourself and answer fast,No man nor land of Iran long shall last.

The Shah turns from the path his fathers knew,And casts aside the counsel they held true.

Ahriman has bent the Shah from wisdom’s road,And turned his heart toward an accursed load.

His fathers’ hard-won labors he disdains;He seeks rich treasure without toil or pains.

The Shah desires Mazandaran’s domain,A prize no former king had sought to gain.

If you delay, the Shah will soon depart;His march is fixed already in his heart.

All that you wrought for Kay Qobad of oldMay now be scattered while your eyes behold.

You and young Rostam girded for the fight,Like lions when Kay Qobad claimed his right.

Your toil has vanished like a breath of air;The Shah now squanders all your work and care.

His ill-turned spirit leads him from the way,And all that labor turns to dust today.”

When Zal heard this, his heart was pierced with grief:The Kayanian tree bore yellowed leaf.

He said: “This king is rash and hard to guide;He turns from counsel offered at his side.

He has not learned the world’s hard heat and cold,Yet thinks his judgment seasoned, firm, and old.

A man who holds high place beneath the skySees years and Sun and Moon go passing by,

Till at his sword both high and low may shake,And every man before his presence quake.

Perhaps the Shah will cast my words aside,Yet I must go; the effort must be tried.

The World-Creator would not praise my choice,Nor Shah nor Iran’s warriors with one voice.

I go to counsel him with steady speech;If he will hear, then wisdom lies in reach.

If he grows sharp, the road is open still;Tahamtan waits with army and with will.”

He mused throughout the night; at break of day,He armed himself and took the Shah-ward way.

The chiefs escorted Zal upon the road;His royal standard in the sunlight showed.

To Tus, Gudarz, Giv, Bahram came the word,And Gorgin with the other chieftains heard:

“Zal now approaches; see his banner rise,His royal standard gleams before our eyes.”

Each chief who wore the Pahlevan’s high capRode forth to greet him, closing fast the gap.

When he drew near, they left their steeds behind,Approached on foot, and blessed him, heart and mind.

As all together toward the Shah they went,Tus said, “Great chief, long roads your strength have spent.

For Iran’s nobles you have journeyed wide,Hard toil and travel, setting rest aside.

We are devoted wholly to your name;Your crown and farr bring honor to our fame.”

Then Zal replied, “The maxims of the wiseReturn when age has dimmed a hero’s eyes.

In time the turning heavens make it knownWhat judgment each has earned beneath the throne.

We must not hide the counsel age has taught;The Shah has need of wisdom years have brought.

If he rejects the words that wisdom gives,He will regret that choice while yet he lives.”

They cried, “Agreed! We stand behind your word.”Then sought the Shah, that counsel might be heard.

With lords adorned in belts of gleaming gold,Zal came, composed in bearing, firm and bold.

He entered where Kay Kavus held his throne,Exulting in a power all his own.

With folded arms and eyes cast down, he stood,Then spoke with care, his counsel grave and good:

“O lord of worlds, peerless in crown and name,No throne has borne a king of equal fame.

No throne or crown has known so great a king,Nor heaven seen such fortune take its wing.

May victory and joy attend your reign,Your heart hold wisdom, justice rule your brain.”

The Shah received Zal as an honored guest,And on the throne beside him bade him rest.

He asked about the hardships of the road,The chiefs, and Rostam, famed in his abode.

Zal answered: “Live in triumph, crowned and bright!Your fortune fills all loyal hearts with light.

Through you our honor rises ever high,Our heads uplifted as your banners fly.”

Then Zal began, his purpose firm and clear,To turn the king from folly drawing near:

“O Shah, who bears the crown and royal throne,Among the great, your royal worth is known.

Long years have passed in turning over me;I watched the wheel of heaven turn and flee.

Yet grave reports have reached my ears of late,And pressed my aged heart with doubt’s great weight:

They say that toward Mazandaran you fare,Upon a road no prudent king would dare.

No king before you sought that shadowed way,Though many ruled with power in their day.

Manuchehr passed and left this world behind,With treasure, throne, and palaces consigned.

So Zav and Nohzar, kings of tested reign,And Kay Qobad refused that dark domain.

How many heroes, battle-proven, came,With countless troops and heavy gorz of fame.

Yet none among them sought that cursed road,Or led toward Mazandaran his martial load.

There sorcerous Divs with talismans abide,And magic bonds defend them on each side.

No sword can break what deeper charms defend,No wealth or wit can bring such powers to end.

No blessing lies upon that road of pain;Abandon now this dark and reckless aim.

Do not cast toil and strength and wealth awayOn spells no mortal sword can hold at bay.

No Shah before you chose that road to fame,Yet each won honor and a lasting name.

Though lesser men before your crown appear,They served the Just One with devotion clear.

Do not plant greatness like a blood-fed tree,From heads of heroes slain for vanity.

Its fruit will ripen cursed, with bitter flaw;No ancient king made such a practice law.”

The Shah replied, his pride now sharpened high:“Your counsel has its worth; I cannot deny.

In valor, strength, and wealth I far exceedBoth Jamshid and Fereydoon, all concede.

Manuchehr and Qobad I too excel;They never sought Mazandaran’s dark spell.

My army, heart, and treasure greater stand;The sharp sword holds the world beneath command.

The world lies open to the knowing eye;No hidden realm shall from my purpose fly.

I go to snare them one by one in fight,By kingly rule or by the sword’s own might.

I shall impose my tribute on their land,Or leave no living foe who dares withstand.

Their sorcerers and Divs I count as base;No terror in them do I see or trace.

The Divs shall vanish from the face of earth,Their cursed breed be stripped of name and worth.

You, Zal, with Rostam, guard Iran; beware;Let watchful strength be constant everywhere.

The World-Creator stands with me today;The heads of male Divs shall be my prey.

If you will not ride with me to the fight,Then do not counsel me to wait tonight.”

Zal saw no head nor root in what he heard;No path appeared through Kavus’s reckless word.

Zal heard and answered, though his heart was torn:“You are the Shah, and we to serve are sworn.

We speak from love; whether you rule by rightOr wrong, your servants follow where you might.

My mind is eased, for I have said my part;What wisdom taught, I offered from the heart.

No man can drive death from his mortal frame;When death arrives, all bodies end the same.

No needle sews the eye of Time away;No guarded man escapes what need may lay.

From death, from Time, from need none finds release;Not even world-seekers purchase lasting peace.

May this bright world bring fortune to your reign,And spare you cause to think on this with pain.

May no deed of your own bring late regret;May heart and faith remain in brightness set.”

Then Zal took leave of Kavus and withdrew,His heart oppressed by what the Shah would do.

As from the royal presence, grieved, he drew,Both Sun and Moon grew dark before his view.

Then Tus, Gudarz, Bahram, and Giv drew near,And went beside him, loyal and sincere.

Giv said, “May God direct us as we go;Were Kavus not our Shah, I would say no.

May greed and death and need stay far from you;May foemen’s hands fall short in all they do.

Wherever we may journey through the land,Your praise alone is heard on every hand.

Next after God, Iran on you depends,Who bore this arduous road for warrior friends.”

Then Zal embraced the men who gathered round,And turned toward Sistan from that royal ground.

When Zal departed from the royal hall,The army turned to answer Kavus’s call.

To Tus and Gudarz then the Shah gave word:“Draw out the troops; let every rank be stirred.”

When night gave way, at dawn the ranks made way,With Kavus toward Mazandaran that day.

To Milad he entrusted Iran’s land,The treasury keys, crown, signet in his hand.

“If any foe before your borders stand,Take not revenge alone, at your command,

In every danger seek out Zal and son;The army’s strength and throne’s adornment, one.”

Next day the koust rang out across the plain,While Tus and Gudarz drove the marching train.

Kay Kavus rode in splendor at their head,With Gudarz, Tus, and banners widely spread.

Before Mount Ispuruz he made his ground,And set his throne where shadow wrapped him round.

There even sunlight vanished from the sky;The Shah prepared beneath the dark to lie.

There savage Divs had made their dreadful lair;Even the elephant would scarcely dare.

Cloth made with gold was spread upon the ground,And wine made fragrant all the air around.

The chiefs assembled near the monarch’s seat,And passed the night in revels rich and sweet.

At dawn they rose with girdles, caps arrayed,And stood before the Shah in ranks displayed.

He turned to Giv and spoke with hardened will:“Choose men at once, both resolute and skilled.

Let two full thousand gorz-men clear the wayToward Mazandaran without delay.

Strike every soul; burn all that stands in sight,And turn each dwelling’s day to blackest night.

Let every Div hear what our swords have done,Till sorcery is emptied, one by one.”

Giv armed at once and left the royal gate,With chosen warriors sworn to seal their fate.

They reached Mazandaran’s great city wall,With sword and gorz they rained destruction all.

No woman, child, nor man could refuge gain;Nor priest nor sage escaped the murderous rain.

They burned and plundered city, street, and plain,And poured out poison where the cure had lain.

At length they reached a wondrous, radiant scene,No mortal realm had ever shone so serene.

Each street displayed its beauty, wealth, and art,And moon-bright maidens gladdened every heart.

In every lane a thousand servants shone,With torques and earrings bright as polished stone.

Still more crowned servants thronged the avenues,Moon-faced and bright in robes of varied hues.

Gold lay in heaps and gems shone clear and bright,And cattle grazed in numbers past all sight.

They sent to Kavus word of that estate;He blessed the voice that named it Paradise’s mate.

The city seemed an idol-temple deckedWith Chinese brocade, and with flowers flecked.

Its beauties seemed like Paradise made plain;Rizvan washed pomegranate blooms with rain.

One might have said: “This land is Paradise,A vision formed before astonished eyes.”

For seven days Iran’s men seized their prey,Then ceased from plunder on the seventh day.

The king of Mazandaran heard what passed,And grief and fury held his spirit fast.

A Div named Sanja stood within his hall,Who shared his sorrow at the kingdom’s fall.

The king said: “Go like Sun across the air,And carry this command with utmost care.

Tell the White Div: ‘A force from Iran’s landHas come to plunder all at their command.

World-seeking Kavus leads them at their head,With battle-ready warriors widely spread.

They burned Mazandaran and fed the flameOf vengeance, leaving ruin in their name.

Unless you come at once to give us aid,No soul in Mazandaran shall here be stayed.’”

When Sanja heard, he sped without delay,And reached the White Div by the shortest way.

The White Div said: “Let not your spirit fall;My strength shall rise and overwhelm them all.

I shall come armed and close his homeward road,And bar the Shah beneath my army’s load.”

He rose like some vast mountain into view,His head stood level with the turning blue.

Then night descended, thick with pitch and dread,As though all light from earth and sky had fled.

The world became a sea, boundless and dark;No shore nor star remained for them to mark.

A tent of smoke and pitch he spread in night,And blackened every eye and quenched the light.

From heaven came stones and clods in deadly rain,And terror struck the hearts of Kavus’s train.

Some fled toward Iran in wild retreat,Their hearts sore-wounded by the Shah’s defeat.

At dawn destruction met each stricken eye;The Shah lay blind beneath the darkened sky.

Two thirds of all the army lost their sight,And chiefs burned inward at the shameful blight.

Their treasure seized, their army bound in chains;The Shah’s young fortune aged beneath its pains.

Remember well this marvel-laden tale;One wonder follows one without a fail.

“A wakeful counselor is worth more than gold;No treasure matches wisdom tried and old.”

The Shah cried out in sorrow and regret:“The wise man’s counsel I chose to forget.

I did not heed great Zal’s forewarning voice,But followed folly through my prideful choice.”

For seven days he lingered lost in pain,And saw no man of Iran on that plain.

On the eighth day the White Div thundered wide:“O barren willow, Shah of swollen pride!

You dressed in pride and sought to rule this throne,Mazandaran’s high seat to make your own.

Like a mad elephant you judged your might,And thought no equal stood before your sight.

Not satisfied with crown and royal seat,You cast wise counsel underneath your feet.

You seized our people, gorz raised in the chase,And left both slain and captives in your trace.

You did not know what power I could show;Now see the harvest of the pride you sow.”

He chose twelve thousand male Divs, blades in hand,And set them forth according to command.

They bound the chiefs and guarded all the train,And held Iran’s men fast in grief and pain.

They kept the captives living day by day,With scanty food to hold their deaths away.

The Shah’s great treasures and his royal hoard,His ruby crown and heavy gorz were stored.

He gave to Arzhang, captain of that land,And charged him thus to act at his command:

“Go tell the king: blame Ahriman no more;I brought Iran’s proud champions to the floor.

The Shah and chiefs shall never more beholdThe Sun or Moon, nor daylight’s crown of gold.

I spared the Shah to teach him high from low,And make him learn what suffering can show.

Let hardship wake the reason he has lost,And teach his judgment through the bitter cost.

So none again will dare this reckless way,Or throw his realm and wisdom both away.”

Then Arzhang went before his sovereign lord,With royal spoils and all the gathered hoard.

With captives, and with harnessed horses led,He bore the spoil the Iranian army shed.

Before the king he laid the spoil, a greatDisplay of captives, steeds, and treasure’s weight.

The White Div then returned to his own height,Like Sun ascending in triumphant light.

But Kavus lingered captive in that land,Bereft of sight and stripped of all command.

He groaned: “My fault alone has cast me down,And brought this ruin on my royal crown.”

Kavus, with stricken heart and broken will,Sent out a warrior bearing word of ill.

The faithful warrior flew as on a wing,To Zal the Shah’s disastrous news to bring.

Like smoke he sped from Mazandaran’s ground,And raced toward Zabul without turning round.

He bore this cry: “See what has Fortune done!My crown is lost, my glory overrun.

My head and throne have fallen from their height;My fortune too has vanished from my sight.

My treasure and my warriors bloomed in spring,Arrayed like flowers beneath the season’s wing.

The heavens gave them all as Divish prey,As wind sweeps springtime blossoms far away.

My sight is dim, my fortune turned to gloom;My body, crown, and throne have met their doom.

I lie beneath Ahriman’s crushing hand,With none to rise, no strength left to command.

His claws have seized me in this place of strife,And tear my very soul away from life.

When Zal’s wise counsel rises in my thought,A cold sigh comes for all the grief I wrought.

I lacked the wisdom to obey your call;Through that same folly came this bitter fall.

Now gird yourself and hasten to my aid,Or gain and capital alike shall fade.”

The rider came to Zal and told the taleOf all he saw and heard, in full detail.

Zal tore his flesh beneath that crushing blow,So fierce the grief that through his heart did flow.

He hid the news from enemy and friend,And let no outward sign his sorrow send.

Yet wisdom long had shown his watchful eyeWhat evils Time would bring as days went by.

He turned to Rostam: “Now the hour is here;The sword grows short within its sheath, I fear.

No longer may we feast or sit at ease,While such calamity does Iran seize.

The world’s own Shah lies in the dragon’s jaws;Iran lies crushed beneath this ruin’s cause.

Saddle up Rakhsh and seek revenge today;Let your world-conquering sword prepare the way.

For such a day I raised you at my side,To face the trials no one else has tried.

You now are fit for deeds of highest fame,For work that shall immortalize your name.

More than two hundred years have made me old;My strength is spent, my vigor faint and cold.

But you shall free the Shah and win renown,And bring him back to wear the royal crown.

No ease or breath is ours while evil stands;Ahriman’s work now calls for stronger hands.

Fasten your Babr-e Bayan firm and tight;Cast sleep and every other thought from sight.

Who once beholds the fury of your spearWill find no peace of soul remaining near.

The sea would turn to blood beneath your might;Your cry would flatten mountains in the fight.

Let Arzhang and the White Div lose all hope;No life remains where your great weapons cope.

And let Mazandaran’s own king be laidBeneath the crushing weight of your great blade.”

Rostam replied: “The road is long and grim;What path shall guide me safely into him?”

Said Zal: “Before your choice two roads are set,And both with toil and danger must be met.

One follows where the Shah has lately gone;The other crosses heights; fourteen stages on.

The first is long; the second short and steep,With harsher trials and terrors buried deep.

Through gloom it winds, past lion, Div, and night,Where darkness robs the traveler of sight.

Take now the shorter path, the harder way;The World-Creator shall be your stay.

Though hard the road, its trials shall be crossed;Blessed Rakhsh shall bear you, never lost.

Through darkest night until the dawn grows clear,I shall pray to pure Yazdan for you here.

Yet if Yazdan decrees another end,No mortal strength can alter or defend.

No one may linger, though he holds great sway;All men must leave this world and pass away.

But one whose great name lives in every landNeed not depart in grief at death’s command.”

Rostam replied: “I gird myself to go;No wise man walks to Hell on foot below.

Only one weary of his life would dareTo meet the roaring lion in its lair.

Yet count me armed and already on my way;The Just Creator is my only stay.

For Shah and realm I pledge both soul and frame,To break their spells and sorcerers the same.

Each living man of Iran held insideI shall bring home with honor at my side.

No Arzhang, Sanja, White Div shall I spare;Nor Pulad Ghandi, Bid, this much I swear.

By God I swear, the One who reigns on high,I will not turn Rakhsh’s foot or backward fly,

Till Arzhang’s hands are bound and held secure,A halter round his neck made fast and sure;

Till Pulad’s head and brain beneath Rakhsh lie,And Rakhsh’s hoof moves earth as he goes by.”

He donned his Babr-e Bayan for the road,While Zal invoked God’s blessing as he rode.

Like an elephant he mounted Rakhsh with might;The stallion stood as firm in heart and sight.

Rudabeh came with tears that would not cease,While Zal wept bitterly and found no peace.

She said: “You leave and fill my heart with fear;What hope in Yazdan bears you onward, dear?”

He answered: “Mother, I chose not this way;Time gave this lot; to God give soul and clay.”

The people gathered round to bid farewell;Who knew if they would see him more, or dwell?

Thus Time goes on; the wise count every breath,And mark each passing moment until death.

When evil days have passed and lost their force,Know that the world has changed its former course.