Book B6The Folly of Kay Kavus

So speaks the ancient tale in measured rhyme,Of Kavus crowned in triumph at his prime.

Then Kavus, flushed with triumph, toured his realm,To view his empire, master at the helm.

From Iran forth to Turan did he ride,And Chin received him in its eastern pride.

To Makran then he led his royal train,And entered with his court across the plain.

Makran was decked like bride in bright array,With ney, buq, and koust to mark the day.

The chiefs all rendered tribute at his call;The ox would never test the lion at all.

To Barbar next he led his splendid train,With crown and diadem across the plain.

The king of Barbar armed himself for war,And darkened what had shone so bright before.

His warriors came and broke the feast below,And battle’s shadow fell on friend and foe.

No hand nor rein was visible in sight;The mountain vanished in the dust of fight.

The armies surged like waves upon the sea,Rank following rank in fierce hostility.

Then Gudarz raised his heavy gorz on high,And drove against the center with a cry.

A thousand warriors pressed toward the fore,With spear and shaft that pierced through shield and core.

He broke the enemy’s embattled line,And drove their warriors back in swift decline.

Behind him came the Shah with royal might,And swept into the center of the fight.

No Barbar rider lived; they all lay dead,No weary spearman raised again his head.

The city’s elders saw the battle turn,And came with wounded hearts and grief to burn.

“We are your slaves,” they said. “We bow to you;Accept our vows and tribute, firm and true.

With gold and jewels now we serve the king;No silver gift beside these will we bring.”

Kavus received them with a gracious air,And set new laws to govern just and fair.

Sanj, daray, and karnay sounded clear,Their brazen voices loud for all to hear.

He turned his march toward Mount Kaf in the west,Where all the people came at his behest.

They came with gifts and offered fealty,The nobles bowed in solemn loyalty.

They pledged rich tribute to the royal state,And sought his favor at the ruler’s gate.

When all obeyed his will without dispute,He spared their lands and ended the pursuit.

To Zabul then he rode with all his throng,As Rostam’s guest with feast and hunt and song.

A month with rud and wine they passed in play,And loosed the hawk and cheetah on their prey.

Yet soon a thorn arose beside the flowers,For fate grants none serene and lasting hours.

Who climbs to heights must face descent one day;No man can rise and never fall away.

The Arabs rose when all seemed firm and still,A lord ambitious, bent to work his will.

In Mesr and Sham he raised his standard high,And stirred the people with rebellion’s cry.

They turned from Kavus and denied his reign,And let contempt and doubt within remain.

A wealthy high-born claimant rose to fame,And sought to share the kingship and its name.

When Kavus heard, he bade tabiras sound,And marched from Nimruz toward the battleground.

With eager heart he led the marching force,Each warrior’s name marked shields along the course.

Their swords within the scabbards leaped and rang,As though they thirsted for the coming clang.

He led the army from the plain to sea,Where hostile ranks had gathered openly.

With ships and skiffs he covered all the tide,A countless fleet spread outward far and wide.

He launched the fleet upon the swelling main,Till ship and skiff obscured the watery plain.

A thousand farsangs cleaved through ocean spray,To win again what once had slipped away.

Where three great realms together touched their bounds,He set his army on contested grounds.

On left was Mesr, Barbar on the right,Before him Hamavaran armed for fight.

Each kingdom raised a force of daunting size,And news of Kavus reached their watchful eyes.

They said: “The Shah has crossed the sea in force,”And joined their troops to halt his onward course.

In Barbar there the two great armies met,Their ranks in iron on the plain were set.

So vast the army under trampling feet,Sea, mountain, plain seemed worn beneath the beat.

No savage lion found a path ahead,No raging elephant could freely tread.

The leopard searched the rock, the fish the sea,The eagle scanned the air for passage free.

No beast or game could find an open way;All roads were choked beneath the vast array.

When Kavus landed with his armored band,No hill nor plain was visible in the land.

The world appeared in armor, head to head,And spearpoints shone like stars the heavens spread.

The golden helms and shields that caught the light,Made earth itself seem molten gold and bright.

The axes gleamed at every warrior’s side,Like suns that flashed across the battle-tide.

The blades of Hind seemed raining lives below,While earth like moving heaven seemed to flow.

The air wore sandalwood, a tawny shade,While ebony across the earth was laid.

The mountains shook beneath the horn’s great cry,The earth bent low as pounding hooves went by.

At tabira’s roar all Barbar’s armies rang,Till every span became a war-camp’s clang.

Then Bahram, Tus, and Gorgin crossed the plain,And joined the troops with all their martial train.

With Gudarz, Giv and Shidush formed array,And Farhad cast restraint and fear away.

The spearpoints drank the poison, dark and keen,And every thrust was armed with death unseen.

They bent low on the saddle in their course,While axes chopped through armor, man, and horse.

When Kavus reached the center of the fight,Army met army under blades of light.

Their eyes grew dim as cinnabar rained red,On lapis fields where blood and dust were spread.

Like hail the arrows fell with deadly tone,And planted crimson tulips in the stone.

From warriors’ eyes there spread the battle’s fire,And earth became a sea of crimson mire.

Iran’s fierce charge broke every allied line,Till none could tell its order or design.

The king of Hamavaran first gave way,And sought for peace to end the fatal day.

He flung away his sword and gorz, and facedThe Shah, and begged protection, all abased.

He offered tribute if his land were spared,And pledged submission openly declared.

With horses, arms, with treasure, crown and throne,He begged to keep the kingdom as his own.

Kavus replied: “You stand beneath my care;You seek no crown or throne that I now bear.”

Content, the Shah withdrew from field of war;An envoy came from Hamavaran’s shore.

He brought rich treasure, heavy arms of steel,Their weight proclaimed the offered tribute real.

With emeralds and jewels piled in mound,He laid the tribute on the royal ground.

“The high and low of Hamavaran standAs servants now beneath your high command.

May victory attend your crown each year,And foes be overthrown in shame and fear.”

He kissed the earth, then came where Tus was lord,And there without delay the tribute poured.

Then Tus received the gold and jewels bright,And shared them, less or more, by rank and right.

Then one spoke thus to Kavus: “In that land,A king has one whose charms none can withstand.

A daughter tall as cypress, straight and rare,With musk-crowned brow and perfumed, coiling hair.

Her tresses fall like kamands deftly thrown,Her tongue a khanjar, keen as tempered stone.

Her lips are sweet as sugar newly pressed,A springtime sun in Paradise confessed.

None but a Shah should claim so fair a bride,No lesser man should take her to his side.

A moon like this should grace a monarch’s name,And fill his royal house with light and fame.”

His heart was stirred; he answered, pleased and bright,“I shall ask her father for this match outright.

Within my golden chamber she shall dwell,Where beauty such as hers would grace it well.”

He chose a noble envoy, wise and grave,A man whose wit could guide, whose speech could save.

He bade him journey forth to that domain,And win the king with tact both mild and plain.

“Incline his heart,” he said, “with honeyed phrase,And turn his thoughts through artful, tempered praise.

Say thus to him: ‘The wisest chiefs I see,Seek bonds of kinship and alliance with me.

The sun itself takes brilliance from my crown;And earth beneath my ivory throne lies down.

Who finds no shelter in my royal shadeWill lose the standing fortune once had made.

I seek alliance, peace between us sealed,That strife between our realms be wholly healed.

Behind the curtain dwells your daughter bright,Whose worth befits a monarch’s royal height.

Pure in her face and pure in form and frame,Each city and assembly praised her name.

Accept this bond; let royal kinship stand,And give Kay Qobad’s son your daughter’s hand.’”

The envoy went with ready tongue and mind,His speech refined, his bearing firm yet kind.

He reached the king of Hamavaran’s throne,And shaped his words in measured, courtly tone.

He gave Kavus’s greeting, clear and true,Then set the royal purpose forth in view.

The king was troubled deep within his breast,And thus within his heart he weighed the test:

“Though he may rule the world from sea to sea,I must surrender what is dear to me.

I have but one fair child, my dearest part,More dear to me than breath or beating heart.

If I refuse, I cannot face his might,His strength exceeds all I could bring to fight.

I must conceal my grief and mask my pain,And yield, though sorrow in my heart remain.”

He answered then: “This wish can have no end;No limit bounds the message you now send.

Two precious things he seeks above all prize:My wealth, my child, the light before my eyes.

My wealth sustains me, yet my child is more,The dearest treasure in my heart’s own store.

If Iran’s Shah should take my child away,What heart or life remains to me that day?

Yet I submit and grant what he has sought,Though grief destroys the peace that joy once brought.”

He summoned fair Sudabeh to his side,And spoke of Kavus with a troubled pride:

“An envoy comes from that exalted throne,Whose lord lacks nothing power can make his own.

A smooth-tongued envoy bears a letter here,From Kavus, written so his will is clear.

He seeks to rob my heart of all repose,Though I would rather flee such heavy woes.

What say you? Speak your settled will to me,And choose with wisdom what your course shall be.”

She answered: “There is no other road to choose;Why grieve for what no counsel can refuse?

What better comforter could now be foundThan one whose world-wide kingship knows no bound?

This is no grief; call it a glorious gain.”The king perceived she bore no hidden pain.

He called the envoy to an honored chair;By rite and faith he pledged his daughter fair.

A week they labored, sorrow they must bear,Preparing all with splendor rich and rare.

They brought forth forty litters in a line,With slaves three hundred set in due design.

A thousand beasts; steeds, mules, with camels too,Bore brocade and dinars in ordered view.

From every howdah brocade streamed in air,While ranked escorts stood ordered everywhere.

The New Moon rode within a litter bright,Her marriage gifts displayed in splendid sight.

The escort shone like Paradise in hue,As tulips seemed to fill the heavens’ blue.

When that fair pageant met the monarch’s gaze,His heart was filled with wonder and with praise.

A new moon from the howdah rose in light,Like some new king upon his throne made bright.

Black musk lay scattered over roses fair,Ambergris earrings trembled by her hair.

Two rubies shone; two languid narcissus eyes,Her brows like silver pens above them rise.

Kavus invoked the name of Yazdan then,And gazed amazed beyond the gaze of men.

He called the wise in council at his side,The aged chief of Mobadan to guide.

He deemed Sudabeh fit to be his wife;By rite and faith he joined with her for life.

“When first I saw you, I approved your grace;My golden chambers were your proper place.”

The father grieved and searched for some design,A week passed; eighth dawn brought the plotted sign.

At dawn he sent a messenger to say:“Let Kavus come and grace us with his stay.

If he will be my honored guest today,My people shall rejoice along his way.”

Thus did he seek to trap the royal guest,A cunning heart concealed within his breast.

With guile he sought to save his child and land,And keep the tribute from Kavus’s hand.

But fair Sudabeh saw the snare ahead,And warned the Shah of treachery and dread:

“This bodes no good; you must not share his board,Lest treachery be planned against you, lord.

Beneath the feast they mean to seize you fast,And bind you without cause when trust is cast.

For my sake only is this mischief sown,And grief will fall upon your crown and throne.”

He heeded not her warning or her plan,And held her people scarcely worth a man.

So as a guest with warriors at his side,He went in pomp, secure in royal pride.

At Saha stood a pleasure-city bright,Prepared for feast and revelry and delight.

There stood his palace, fair in ordered height,Adorned throughout to charm the monarch’s sight.

The city paid him homage on the way,And all came forth to honor him that day.

They scattered saffron, jewels along the street,With musk and ambergris beneath his feet.

With rud and song they wove a festive sound,Like warp and woof in music interwound.

The king himself, with all his nobles, came,On foot to greet the Shah of royal fame.

From hall to gate fell pearls and rubies bright,With showers of gold that flashed before his sight.

From golden trays musk, ambergris were spread,In fragrant showers upon the monarch’s head.

A golden throne was raised within the hall,And Kavus took his place before them all.

A week he reveled; all his senses drowned,In beauty, fragrance, color, light, and sound.

The Hamavaran king would bow, obey,Like some low servant in the Shah’s array.

His army stood in girded service near,Till trust took root and banished every fear.

But when the week was past, the plot was laid,The hidden snare now fully was displayed.

The troops of Barbar answered to the call,And joined the plot, assembled one and all.

Their coming filled the king with secret joy,For now he meant his cunning to employ.

At night the war-horns shattered their repose,While Iran’s men lay open to their foes.

The Barbar troops with Hamavaran flew,And seized the chiefs before a blade they drew.

Kavus, Giv, Gudarz, and Tus were chained;Gorgin and Zangeh of Shavaran detained.

All champions then were bound in fetters tight,Their farr and fortune cast from former height.

Then spoke the sage, discerning in his art,Of trust and where true loyalty may part:

Trust not completely one not bound by blood,For friendship shifts beneath misfortune’s flood.

Even the kin who share your blood may turn,And let the bond of former kindness burn.

If you would test whether affection stays,Judge it through gain and loss in changing days.

For when your height surpasses his estate,Envy can thin the love that once was great.

So runs this impure world beneath the sky,It turns with every wind that passes by.

Thus Kavus fell through stubborn, reckless pride,For scorning wisdom offered at his side.

There stood a mountain rising from the deep,Whose summit pierced the clouds in rugged sweep.

A fortress crowned the mountain’s cloud-bound crest,As though beside the sky it found its rest.

There the king sent Kavus bound in chain,With Giv and Tus and Gudarz in his train.

The other chiefs were cast within that hold,Imprisoned fast behind its ramparts cold.

A thousand guards with khanjars held the height,Renowned men armed and watchful for the fight.

He gave the camp of Kavus up for spoil,Rewarding those who joined the treacherous toil.

With purses full of gold and crowns for all,He paid the chiefs who answered to his call.

Two veiled companies came to fetch the bride,A splendid litter moving at their side.

They trampled down the tents in cruel display,And bore her from the ruined camp away.

When she beheld them come, she cried aloud,And rent her robes before the watching crowd.

She tore her musk-black hair, a kamand strand,And clawed her cheeks with her own anguished hand.

She cried: “True men would scorn so foul a deed;No noble heart would praise the path you lead.

Why not confront him when the battle shone,Jowshan his robe, his charger for a throne?

When Giv, Gudarz, and Tus stood in array,The koust resounded through the battle day,

You made the golden throne an ambush-place,And stained this bond of kinship with disgrace.”

She called them dogs as blood and tears ran red,Across her rose-like cheeks where grief had spread.

“I will not leave Kay Kavus in his chain,Though in a darkened grave he should remain.

If Kavus bears the chain, then strike me dead;I am innocent; take instead my head.”

Her words were carried to her father’s ear,His heart ran blood, his anger fierce and clear.

He sent her to the fortress, grief-forlorn,Her cheeks blood-washed, her wounded liver torn.

Within the prison, faithful at his side,She served and shared his grief, his faithful bride.

The Shah lay bound; his army turned away,And home toward Iran took its weary way.

By ships and skiffs they crossed the heaving main,Then left the shore and pressed across the plain.

Then through Iran the bitter tidings spread:“The cypress of Alborz is lost,” they said.

The royal throne stood empty, stripped of light,Its sovereign glory vanished from men’s sight.

When men beheld the golden throne laid bare,Each sought the crown and strove to seize his share.

From every side came armies to the fray,From Turks and spear-bearing plains they made their way.

Afrasiab formed a mighty battle train,And cast off food and sleep to seize the plain.

From east and west rose cries of war and wrong,And peace gave way to battle hard and long.

Afrasiab advanced with hardened might,And met the Arabs in a bitter fight.

For three full months the rival armies bled,And heads were given up for crowns instead.

At last the Arabs broke beneath the strain,Their hunger to surpass had brought them pain.

Men, women, children all were seized and bound,As captive trains moved over Iran’s ground.

The Turkish armies spread from plain to hill,And seized Iran beneath their conquering will.

For Iran’s people all the world grew black,As fortune turned and every hope drew back.

Such is this transient dwelling: greed will breedBoth grief and pain from every grasping deed.

At last both good and evil pass away,For death hunts all, and life becomes its prey.

Two portions of the people Zabul sought,And came to Zal with grief and terror fraught.

“Be refuge now; Kay Kavus’s farr is lost,For Iran stands abandoned to the cost.

Our fortune is disturbed; our hearts know fear,A grievous trial has risen dark and near.

Alas for Iran, plundered, stripped, forlorn,A den where lions and fierce pards are born.

Where warrior horsemen once possessed the land,And royal seats of kings in splendor spanned.

Now sharp-clawed dragon rules where kings once reigned,And all our days with grief and hardship stained.

Now we must seek a remedy for grief,And free our hearts by finding some relief.

One reared on leopard’s milk can heal our woe;A wise man swift to Rostam now must go.”

A Mobad went and bore the grievous word,And told him all he saw, all that occurred.

Then yellow tears from Rostam’s eyes were shed,His heart burned fierce, his soul with anguish bled.

His heart was stirred; he armed for vengeance then,And swore to rise against the Turkish men.

“When word of Kay Kavus has reached my ear,I will sweep Iran clean of Turks and fear.”

Then word arrived: the Shah was bound through guile,His army trapped by ambush all the while.

Then Rostam sent to every realm for aid,And summoned all whose hearts no battle swayed.

From Zabul, Kabul, Hind the forces flowed,Around the Pahlevan their standards showed.

The buq resounded; Hind’s daray replied,While boiling ranks surged over every side.

His heart burned fierce; he drove the army fast,Like storm-wind sweeping all before its blast.

Then Rostam sent a messenger ahead,To reach Kavus and speak the words he said:

“I march upon this land with gathered force,To turn Hamavaran’s king from his dark course.

Take heart again and cast away your grief;I stand already near, your champion-chief.”

Another envoy, known among the great,Rode to the king and bore the warning straight.

And Rostam wrote in language stern and plain,Of gorz and sword and battle’s bloody strain:

“You trapped our Shah and broke the bond of trust;Such conduct is unmanly and unjust.

No warrior wins by hidden craft or guile,Nor masks his strength beneath a treacherous smile.

The nahang ruling in the river’s flowStrikes face to face and meets a forward foe.

Though rage may burn and vengeance urge the fight,It does not hide in ambush from the sight.

Release the Shah; escape the dragon’s snare,Or claw and tail shall seize you unaware.

Prepare for battle if you will not bend;Your neck shall measure my ranks end to end.

You know what chieftains tell of battles won:What I in Mazandaran have fought and done,

How Pulad Ghandi, Bid, were struck aside,And how the White Div perished in his pride.”

He sealed the letter, placed it in his hand,And sent him swiftly toward the hostile land.

He reached the king and spoke the message through,Then gave the letter bearing Rostam’s view.

The king read on, astonished at his deed,And saw the danger ripening from the seed.

Then darkness gathered thick before his sight,His head reeled hard, the world became as night.

“Let Kavus rot within his chains,” he said,“He shall not tread the open plain ahead.

And if you come to Barbar’s open field,To swords and heavy gorz you then must yield.

A chain and prison wait for you as due;I march with all my army against you.”

The envoy turned and sought out Rostam’s place,And brought the king’s reply before his face.

“I found him senseless, hardened against right,A Div’s companion, sunk in evil night.”

Such was the answer, dark with evil art;And Ahriman blew smoke within his heart.

When Rostam heard, his champions gathered near,The foremost chiefs assembling without fear.

The karnay roared; his foot found stirrup true,He mounted Rakhsh and toward the sea-road flew.

He chose the sea, for land would slow his course,And crossed with all his men in ordered force.

In ships and skiffs they moved across the tide,With warriors armed and stationed side by side.

Their hearts were set on plunder and on blood,All shame and restraint swept beneath the flood.

When word was brought to Hamavaran’s king,His heart sought vengeance with a bitter sting.

He raged and called his armies to prepare,And filled the land with tumult everywhere.

So suddenly the danger struck his breast,No hour remained for ease, delay, or rest.

From every frontier rose the battle cry,With plunder, blood, and tumult surging high.

The king rode forth; bright day was turned to night,So dense the ranks that swallowed up the light.

The shaypur roared; Hind’s daray answer hurled;Their thunder seemed to shake the turning world.

He dressed the left and right in battle rank,And called a famed champion from the flank.

Then Rostam cried, “The warrior sought is here;I hold this field and know no trace of fear.”

He donned his battle jowshan, head to heel,Then mounted Rakhsh and drove against their steel.

He raised his heavy gorz upon his side,And urged brave Rakhsh against the hostile tide.

When foes beheld his chest and iron frame,And saw the heavy gorz with which he came,

The king and chiefs knew Rostam by each sign,His chest, his gorz, his bearing in the line.

They quailed as courage failed within each breast,As though their hearts had fled and left no rest.

They broke and fled before his rising might,A mighty army scattered out of sight.

The king then summoned two young riders near,And charged them both to bear his words of fear:

“Ride hard to Barbar and to Mesr with haste,Let not a moment of the journey waste.

Take letters sealed in sorrow, grief, and dread,With blood for ink upon the words you spread:

‘Our realms lie near, in fortune, war, and feast;In good and ill our bond has never ceased.

If you will join me, I shall stand secure,And Rostam’s threat no longer shall endure.

But if you fail, his fury reaches all;No border stands beyond his sweeping fall.’”

When those grim letters reached the distant kings,They heard the threat that Rostam’s coming brings.

They stirred to arms and gathered all their might,And marched to join the coming storm of fight.

The armies of three realms were joined in one,And marched toward Hamavaran with the sun.

From mountain to mountain the ranks were spread,And dust concealed the moon above their head.

Then Rostam sent a warrior through the line,In secret, bearing word of his design:

“Three warlike kings approach, prepared to fight;My claw will leave them head from foot in flight.

But guard yourself from harm when battle’s near,For evil deeds from evil men appear.

The throne of Barbar would be worthless gain,If harm should reach your body in this strain.”

Kavus replied: “Put fear and doubt away;This earth was never mine alone to sway.

With nectar poison comes in Fortune’s art;With hatred, love is mingled in the heart.

The World-Keeper is refuge at my side;His love a fortress where I may abide.

Give fleet Rakhsh rein; set spearpoint by his ear,Leave none alive, concealed or standing clear.”

When Rostam heard, he armed himself again,And rode to meet the gathered ranks of men.

He called for any champion to appear,And stood alone, devoid of doubt or fear.

He waited long; no champion answered call,Before his challenge none came forth at all.

The radiant sun sank down beneath the main,And rushing night spread darkness on the plain.

Then Rostam turned and left the silent ground,And sought his tent where rest at last was found.

At dawn the sunlight chased the dark away,And Rostam armed once more to meet the day.

Then forth he came and called his captains near,And set their men in ranks with shield and spear.

Next day they set the battle in array,And raised their standards for the coming fray.

When peerless Rostam led his troops ahead,And saw three kingdoms on the field outspread,

He spoke to all his warriors firm and clear:“Keep every eye awake and free of fear.

Watch mane and forelock, saddle, rein, and steed,And fix your gaze upon the spear you lead.

Though hundred horse or hundred thousand ride,Their numbers cannot turn the battle’s tide.

Pure Yazdan stands beside us in the fight;I cast their proud heads down from honor’s height.”

Across the field three monarchs rode in pride,On elephants; their lines stretched two mil wide.

From Barbar came eight score in ponderous flow,Like Nile-flood waters boiling as they go.

Hamavaran’s hundred elephants came,With rank on rank of warriors behind the same.

The third, from Mesr, formed its battle might,The air grew dark; the earth was lost from sight.

The world seemed forged of jowshan, scale on scale,As though great Alborz wore an iron veil.

Behind the warriors, deep amid the haze,Red, yellow, violet banners seemed to blaze.

The mountains rang beneath the heroes’ cries,And earth grew weary where their horses rise.

The lion’s heart and claw both failed in dread,The eagle furled its wings; the cloud-bank fled.

Iran’s men ranked their troops on left and right,Their heroes burned for vengeance and the fight.

Guraza held the right, his lines arrayed;The baggage train beneath his guard was laid.

Zavareh held the left with dauntless fire,A lion-dragon fierce in battle’s ire.

At center Rostam waited, stern and grim,His rawhide kamand on the saddle’s rim.

He gave the sign; the karnay thundered high,And all the army surged beneath its cry.

Then swords and javelins flashed in battle’s glow,As heaven planted tulips red below.

When Rostam drove on Rakhsh across the field,Fire seemed to race wherever Rakhsh wheeled.

The plain became a river deep with blood,As crimson currents rolled in swelling flood.

On every side helmed heads were hewn away,Shattered jowshans through plain and hollow lay.

He spurred brave Rakhsh; he shunned the common foe,And sought the kings where battle’s currents flow.

He drove toward Sham’s king through battle’s tide,And cast his kamand toward the ruler’s side.

It clasped his waist, a dragon’s tightening ring,And held him mounted, helpless to the string.

He plucked him from the saddle in his fall,Like polo mallet striking up the ball.

Then Bahram bound the fallen king that day,And sixty famed warriors were led away.

The hills and hollows bore a crimson stain,While bodies lay in heaps across the plain.

Guraza’s snare the Barbar monarch caught,And forty chiefs were taken as they fought.

The king of Hamavaran saw with dreadHis soldiers strewn in heaps among the dead.

He saw one band of wounded men retreat,And one in chains brought low beneath his feet.

He saw brave Rostam cleaving through the field,Till Judgment Day itself seemed there revealed.

He knew this was the day disaster came,And begged of Rostam quarter in his name.

“I free Kay Kavus and the chiefs in chain,And yield the wealth and spoils that still remain:

The pavilion, treasure, crown, and jewels bright,The servants, throne, and golden girdle’s light.”

On these terms all agreed and left the fray,The three realms drew their battered ranks away.

The king of Hamavaran reached the town,And with his counselor at last sat down.

He sent and fetched Kavus from prison’s night,And raised him to the place that matched his right.

He freed Kavus and all the chiefs from chain,With Giv and Tus and Gudarz in his train.

Arms, treasures, tents, and crowns from every sideWere stored in Iran’s treasury inside.

Kavus prepared a golden litter bright,With Roman brocade gleaming in the light.

A ruby crown, a turquoise gah were laid,Beneath a black jeweled housing richly made.

He placed the litter on a swift-foot steed,With golden bridle made for royal need.

Fresh aloeswood was fashioned for its frame,And many kinds of jewels lit the same.

He bade Sudabeh take her hidden place,Like sun beneath the earth, she hid her face.

Kavus then led the army from the town,And brought it to the camp beneath his crown.

From Barbar, Mesr, Hamavaran they came,A hundred thousand horsemen in his name.

More than three hundred thousand filled the plain,In jowshans, steeds in bargostvan, a train.

Then Kavus sent a rider westward bound,To Caesar’s court, where Roman chiefs were found.

“Let no renowned defender linger near;Send all your foremost warriors to me here.

Their coming shall make darkened counsel clear,And make the might of Roman arms appear.

Choose one world-tried, accomplished with the rein,No lesser horseman should cross that plain.

Send Rum’s array to join my royal band,And march beside me through the settled land.”

Then news from Hamavaran was conveyedOf Rostam’s blows on Mesr and Barbar made.

The old Iranian guard meanwhile chose one,A mighty horseman, famed for battles won.

They wrote a letter in a measured tone,In royal form befitting crown and throne:

“We serve you, Shah, whose crown upholds the right,And cross the world obedient to your might.

When troops from Gorgasaran sought your power,Their grasping purpose showed within the hour.

Their hunger for your throne filled us with pain,To see such pride arise within their train.

When Afrasiab marched to claim your crown,We broke his lines and drove his forces down.

Then sword-bearing chiefs assembled strong,At vengeance-ground to meet the coming throng.

With long spears we made bitter all his ease,And turned his rest to anguish by degrees.

On both sides many fell in that harsh fray,While Time through good and evil passed away.

Now word arrives: your royal farr is sure,Your strength renewed, your kingdom’s fate secure.

When you return from Barbar with the rein,We all shall raise our spears across the plain.

We shall fill earth from hill to hill with blood,And make the world run red like Jihun’s flood.”

The envoy spurred at once and set his faceToward Barbar to pursue the Shah’s grace.

Kavus received the message, read it through,And marked the pledge as loyal, firm, and true.

He sent Afrasiab a challenge stern,And warned him from his reckless course to turn:

“Withdraw from Iran; do not linger still,For you have filled my head with talk and ill.

Turan provides you all your heart can need;Why stretch your hand toward evil out of greed?

Desire no more than fortune grants your reign,For excess swiftly brings enduring pain.

Know well your lesser station; curb your will,And keep the skin upon your body still.

Do you not know that Iran is my seat,And all the earth lies subject at my feet?

No leopard, bold in courage, strength, or breath,Would face a lion’s claw and not meet death.”

He sealed the letter, gave it to a man,A warrior born within a Pahlevan clan.

Before the king of Turks and Chin he bowed,Kissed earth, gave blessing, then the words avowed.

He spoke the Shah’s commands before the throne,Then gave the written words that made them known.

When Afrasiab read the written threat,His blood rose hot, his fury firmly set.

He said: “Such words befit a nature base;Let him think twice before he shows his face.

If Iran had fulfilled your restless will,You would not covet Hamavaran still.

Now I have come prepared to wage the fight,And raised my shining standard to the light.

Iran is mine by two claims, plain and sure:By ancient blood, and conquest made secure.

From Tur, my forebear, comes my royal claim,The son of Fereydoon, of deathless name.

And more; I drove the Arab ranks away,And cleared Iran with steel in open fray.

My sword can strike the mountain’s crest from sight,And drag the eagle from the cloud of night.”

He armed his ranks with gorz and sword in hand,On chargers clad in bargostvan they stand.

Then Afrasiab rode with urgent speed,Toward Kavus with his battle-ready steed.

When Kavus heard, he gathered all his force,And set his ranks for battle on their course.

From Barbar toward the Arab ranks he came,A boundless army gathering in his name.

Afrasiab set his forces in array,And dust rose to the heavens through the day.

The buq and koust resounded far and high,The earth seemed iron, ebony the sky.

The tabarzin struck hard in clash and strain,And waves of blood rose high across the plain.

From center Tahamtan roared through the fray,One charge tore through their center’s firm array.

The fortune of Afrasiab’s warriors slept,As ruin through the Turanian battle swept.

He boiled like wine though nowhere burned a fire,And called his warriors back in rising ire:

“O lions of my ranks, my chosen band,This hour has come; obey my firm command.

I raised you for the hour that now is here,For such a day I kept you always near.

Now cross your swords and strike in ordered line;No headlong rush can serve this cause of mine.

Strike hard, support each other in the fray,Make earth too small for Kavus on this day.

With javelin and khanjar strike his van,Cut down his chiefs and break their daring plan.

And Rostam of Sistan, lion-heart of fame,Whose sword makes even heaven blush with shame,

Be bold and take him captive if you dare;Cast ropes and drag him down within your snare.

Whoever from his leopard saddle flingsGreat Rostam down shall win a realm of kings.

My daughter, kingship, parasol I give,And name him sepahbod while he shall live.

I give him Iran’s realm beneath his hand,And raise him to the heavens over land.”

At this the Turanians rallied to the cry,And turned once more to battle beneath the sky.

But Iran’s chiefs advanced with many gorz raised,Their heavy iron through the battle blazed.

So many Turanians fell beneath the blow,That plain and sea and mountain ceased to show.

Two portions of the Turanian ranks were slain,Their blood made clay of all the sodden plain.

Their fortune failed; their battle broke apart,And terror seized all limb and mind and heart.

Afrasiab then turned his back in flight,And fled from Rostam’s overwhelming might.

With troops from Ghur he sought to turn the tide,But found no gain, and hope itself had died.

When Fortune showed him loss on every hand,From Ghur he turned toward Turan’s distant land.

His heart was wounded; two parts of his forceLay dead behind the ruin of his course.

He sought sweet nectar from the world in vain,But poison was the only draft to gain.

When Kavus came to Pars, his royal seat,The world grew bright, its former bloom complete.

An age of joy and order then began,With justice guiding every work of man.

He set the throne in balance, firm and right,And filled his halls with feasting and delight.

He sent forth Pahlevans, resolute and wise,To rule each province under watchful eyes.

To Marv and Nishapur his armies went,To Balkh and Herat, on his service bent.

Then justice ruled, and violence gave way;The wolf no longer stalked the lamb as prey.

His treasure, splendor, farr began to swell,Till royal plenty overflowed its well.

Pari and men and Divs became his train,And served him all beneath his royal reign.

All crown-bearing kings joined his array,And stood as soldiers, ready to obey.

He raised up Rostam, foremost in renown,As World-Champion, glory of the crown.

Upon Mount Alborz he prepared a height,Where weary Divs were spent beneath his might.

Two houses there of hardest stone were made,Their massive forms in ordered measure laid.

Each measured ten kamands across its span,Raised firm in stone according to his plan.

He carved stone stables in the mountain’s side,With pillars set and steel nails deep applied.

War-steeds stood there, and camels for the way,To bear the royal ammari day by day.

He built a palace fashioned all of glass,Its walls with emeralds set in shining mass.

A dome of onyx crowned the structure high,Brought far from Yemen under southern sky.

A famed Mobad was seated in that place,Where knowledge never waned or lost its grace.

Two silver armories were built beside,With weapons for the royal wars supplied.

A golden hall for Kavus rose, ornate,Two shast in height, its measured walls stood straight.

With turquoise tracery the walls were dressed,And rubies burned from every arch and crest.

Its stores increased with every passing day,And never once diminished or gave way.

No summer heat could touch that high design;The air breathed ambergris, its rainfall wine.

Spring lingered there throughout the circling year,With flowers bright as faces, fresh and clear.

No grief or heartache touched that mountain keep;Through justice, evil Time was lulled to sleep.

The Divs remained imprisoned in their pain,And wailed beneath the Shah’s chastising chain.

One dawn, concealed from Kavus’s watchful eyes,Iblis convened the Divs with cunning lies.

“Each day we toil beneath this monarch’s reign,And all our dealings bring us grief and pain.

We need one Div both subtle and well-skilled,Who knows each counsel, every course we have willed.

To turn him from pure Yazdan’s righteous way,And cast dust on his farr and dim its ray.”

The Divs fell silent; none would dare agree,For fear of Kavus checked their company.

At last one rose, malicious, sharp, and sly,And said: “Give me this task, and I will try.

I shall estrange him from pure Yazdan’s creed;No other Div can match me in this deed.”

He took the form of a young gholam, fair,With eloquence to seek the Shah’s own chair.

He waited till the Shah rode forth to hunt,Then stepped ahead and met him at the front.

He bowed full low, with flowers in his hand,And praised the king in words both smooth and grand:

“Your beauty and your farr have reached the sky;The turning sphere should be your seat on high.

The earth is yours, all creatures heed your call;You are the shepherd, and the great your thrall.

One deed remains to leave a lasting sign,A mark no age can darken or decline.

Why should the sun conceal its hidden course,Its rise, its fall, its never-failing force?

What are the moon, the night, the passing day?Who turns the wheeling heavens on their way?

You hold the earth and all beneath your will;Trap heaven too; let none escape you still.”

The Shah was stirred and set all thought aside;The Div had turned his heart from wisdom’s guide.

He thought the turning sphere had shown its face,And opened to him every hidden place.

He knew not heaven’s wheel can never stand;Though stars are countless, Yazdan gives command.

Before His will all creatures stand confined;No strife or tumult frees the mortal kind.

The World-Creator needs no earthly aid;You need both earth and heaven He has made.

He pondered how a man without a wingMight leave the earth and through the heavens spring.

“How far,” he asked, “from earth to moon’s pale sphere?”The star-wise sage replied; the Shah gave ear.

Then he devised a crooked, reckless plan,A scheme unworthy of a reasoning man.

He sent men upward to the eagle’s nest,And took the young while parent birds found rest.

He bade each house tend one or perhaps two,And raise them strong with careful feeding due.

Through year and month they fed the growing brood,On birds and flesh of lambs for daily food.

Till each grew lion-strong in strength and frame,And mountain rams became their easy game.

A throne of Qomari aloeswood he made,Its upper joints with gold secured and laid.

Along its sides he fixed long spears upright,And bound them firmly to the throne and tight.

From every spear he hung a lamb’s fat thigh,To draw the hungry eagles straining high.

He brought four mighty eagles to the ground,One on each side, securely lashed and bound.

Then Kavus settled on the lifted seat,A cup of wine before him, red and sweet.

The starving eagles, eager for their prey,Strained upward hard and beat their wings away.

They drove themselves toward the suspended meat,And raised the throne with every upward beat.

They climbed toward the meat with all their force,And bore the throne aloft along its course.

Some say he sought the firmament on high,To pass beyond the beings of the sky.

Others declare he meant to fight the sphere,With bow and arrows armed as he drew near.

Many the tales; their truth remains unknown,The World-Creator knows it, He alone.

The eagles flew until their strength had failed;Such is the end when greed has one assailed.

Their feathers, soaked with sweat, clung to each wing;No further strength remained in anything.

Head downward from the black cloud they were flung;The throne and spears dragged through the air and swung.

The Shah and throne descended from the height,And struck the forest in their broken flight.

Near Amol’s woods the shattered journey ceased,And there the humbled Shah from pride was released.

The world preserved him, for his destined threadHad not run out; the future lay ahead.

For Siavash had yet to spring from him;His lamp of life could not yet gutter dim.

Instead of throne and greatness, grief remained;Repentance ruled the king whom pride had stained.

He stayed within the forest, worn and bowed,And prayed to the Creator, grief avowed.

While thus the Shah sought pardon for his deed,His army searched the land with anxious speed.

When Rostam heard, with Giv and Tus he sped,With troops, with elephants, and koust ahead.

Old Gudarz thought, a man of seasoned sight,Whose years had watched the turns of wrong and right.

“Since first I drank the milk at mother’s breast,I have observed how kings arise and rest.

I have watched Kayanian crown and royal seat,And wakeful chiefs whom Fortune made complete.

In high or low I never met a manSo self-willed, careless of a reasoned plan.

Your judgment, wisdom, sense have gone astray;Both mind and heart have wandered from their way.

It seems no brain resides within your head;No sound thought follows where your judgment led.

No famed man from the ages now gone byHas ever set his purpose toward the sky.

Like one gone mad, no path or judgment found,Each passing wind can cast you to the ground.”

The chiefs arrived and would not now restrainTheir anger, nor conceal their just disdain.

“A madhouse suits you better than a town,”Said Gudarz, “better far than court or crown.

You yield your place to enemies with ease,And hide your futile counsels as you please.

Three times calamity has caught you fast,Yet no experience schools you from the past.

You led your men to Mazandaran’s gate;Behold the ruin that befell your state.

Again you made yourself the foeman’s guest,An idol turned to Brahman in this test.

None but pure Yazdan in the world remainedWho had not read the charter your sword framed.

You rode the whole earth armed for war below;Now, reckless, you make heaven too your foe.

You seek beyond the bounds of mortal place,To meet a power as equal face to face.

What grief remains that you have not survived?What ruin has not left you yet alive?

Men yet will tell what such a king had done,Who rose to heaven, viewed the moon and sun,

And count the stars above him one by one;Such tales will live when this brief life is run.

Now follow wakeful kings in counsel wise,And heed the well-wishers before your eyes.

Seek only service to pure Yazdan high;In good and ill, on Him alone rely.”

Kavus stood silent, shamed before their gaze,His pride struck down beneath the chieftains’ phrase.

He said: “Truth does no injury to right;Your words are just; I cannot call them slight.

All you have said is justice, nothing wrong;My soul remains bound to your counsel long.”

He shed his yellow tears before them all,And on the World-Creator he would call.

He entered the ammari, bowed with pain;Repentance held his humbled heart in chain.

They brought him back to his exalted seat,Yet grief for what he had done made joy retreat.

Ashamed, he turned aside from royal state,And bowed to dust beneath repentance’s weight.

For forty days he bowed himself in prayer,With tears that marked his grief and deep despair.

From shame he would not pass the palace door;His skin seemed shriveled by the grief he bore.

His eyes poured blood-like tears in ceaseless flow;He begged the Guide forgiveness for his woe.

Before the chiefs he made his stature small,And barred procession and the audience hall.

He gave his wealth in acts of open grace,And pressed his cheek upon the dark earth’s face.

At last the World-Creator heard his plea,Forgave the Shah and set his spirit free.

The scattered men from both great armies came,And gathered at the court beneath his name.

The Judge’s pardon lit his face, and throughHis spirit ran a tempered grace that grew.

He saw his suffering had borne its due,And turned once more to rule with purpose true.

He took his seat upon the throne of gold,And opened treasury, and freely doled.

He founded justice newly through the realm,And high and low grew bright beneath his helm.

Through justice, all the world wore brocade fair;The Shah sat radiant in the royal chair.

The crowned chiefs came from every realm around,And rebels turned to duty, honor-bound.

Time turned again to what it was before;The Shah was washed in faith down to the core.

The greatest chiefs became his servants all,Attending humbly at the monarch’s call.

He sat upon the jewel-studded seat,With crown and ox-head gorz, his state complete.

Thus I have told what little reached my ear;The ways of Shah and Pahlevan stand clear.

Wherever justice crowns a sovereign’s reign,No rescuer is needed in his pain.

He dealt in justice, chastened where he sinned;For now he knew the world is only wind.