Book E1The Story of Mahbud and Other Matters

This matter closed, I turn my words to tellOf Mahbud, who had served the Shah so well.

Cease not from learning even for an hour,Nor let your knowledge feed the pride of power.

The moment you declare, “I thirst no more;Enough of knowledge lies within my store,”

Then fate contrives a sudden, startling turn,And disciplines you till again you learn.

Now hear the tale a rustic minstrel sings,And mark the wisdom that his story brings.

No king, he said, upon the ivory throneHad matched the bounty Anooshirvan had shown.

He learned from scholars, seeking wisdom’s light,And let their knowledge make his spirit bright.

With Mobadan he sought the truth each day,And made their learning guide his heart and way.

These words I gathered from an ancient lay;I asked what passed in ages worn and gray.

He spoke of Anooshirvan’s ancient reign,And told the tale that memory could retain.

The Shah possessed a minister upright,A vigilant treasurer, wise and bright.

His counsel rested always on the true;Fair fame alone was what he would pursue.

This worthy man was Mahbud; all could seeHis heart and speech alike from evil free.

Two sons he had, as joyous as the spring,Who served with constant zeal before the king.

When war was planned, or barsom for the riteWas brought before the Shah within his sight,

The Shah would eat no food except the fareThat Mahbud furnished with devoted care.

He trusted both young sons to serve him well;The daily royal tasks to them befell.

His kitchen stood within Mahbud’s own hall;The Shah came as his guest before them all.

Mahbud’s two sons themselves would bear the mealAnd serve the king with diligence and zeal.

The nobles watched with envy at the court,And grief consumed them at Mahbud’s support.

Among the nobles Zarvan held high place,An aged chamberlain of rank and face.

In feast and council always he was found,Close by the king, in rank and might renowned.

Throughout the year his envious tears would runAt Mahbud’s favor and each favored son.

He sought by every means to bend the kingAgainst that faithful lord, and ruin bring.

Yet nowhere could he find a fault or deedOn which to plant the slander he would breed.

And Mahbud, wise and innocent of guile,Suspected no concealed and deadly wile.

No word or action from that jealous manHad given him a cause to doubt his plan.

Thus Mahbud never knew a watchful foeLurked close at court and planned to bring him low.

A Jew once came to old Zarvan for aid,And asked for money to pursue his trade.

He came and went; his influence slowly grew,Until the gloomy chamberlain he knew.

Through friendship with Zarvan he came to standAmong the servants at the Shah’s command.

One day their private conversation turnedTo court and king, and secret arts they learned;

To magic, spells, and necromantic lore,Black arts and crooked ways they would explore.

Zarvan gave heed to all the Jew revealed,Then spoke of hatred he had long concealed:

“Speak of this matter only when alone;No other man must learn what I have shown.

By sorcery let Mahbud die, and soRid us of one whose power has come to grow

So high, that soon he may command us all;He cares for none, however great or small.

To put it plainly, judging by his state,You might suppose Mahbud himself were great

Anooshirvan, ruler of the land.The Shah takes food from none but his sons’ hand.

Through royal favor he has risen soThat heaven seems to kiss his robe below.”

The Jew replied, “Let this no longer weighUpon your heart; your grief will pass away.

When next the Shah takes barsom for the rite,Observe what food is carried to his sight.

Look closely whether milk is borne withinThe dishes brought by Mahbud’s serving kin.

I need but see, from far away, their fare;My evil eye will poison what they bear.

Mahbud and both his sons shall cease to live;No earthly strength can any rescue give.

Though one were forged of brass or carved of stone,Whoever eats shall perish, flesh and bone.”

Zarvan heard this, and joy replaced his rue;His heart grew light while gazing at the Jew.

Whenever to the court Zarvan would go,The Jew went too, and shared all he would know.

In secrets, feasts, and pleasures they were one;And so the season passed till it was done.

That evil teacher haunted now the courtWhere Mahbud’s sons each dawn would gladly resort.

Behind their noble father’s curtains stayedA pious woman, sound in judgments made.

Whenever Anooshirvan wished to dine,She spread a golden tray of rich design.

Three jeweled platters on its surface lay,A golden cloth concealed the whole array.

Then Mahbud’s two young sons would bear the fareBefore the Shah with reverential care.

With milk in three bejeweled bowls each day,He ate, then went to rest without delay.

One day the brothers journeyed as before,And bore the tray toward the palace door.

A trusted servant bore it on his head,As was the custom when the king was fed.

Zarvan beheld them nearing the king’s gate,And smiling called the young men, “Stay and wait.

O faithful servants of the king, revealFor once the color of the royal meal.

Its fragrance reaches me; remove the fold,And let me see what lies beneath the gold.”

The youths laid bare the dishes they conveyed;Zarvan stood back, and every one surveyed.

The Jew approached and likewise looked within,And marked the foods on which his craft would begin.

He said to old Zarvan, “The tree you sowedHas borne its fruit; the harvest now is owed.”

The two young men, both vigilant and wise,Then bore the tray before the monarch’s eyes.

Old Zarvan followed, hard upon their track,As dust streams close behind a rider’s back.

Zarvan pressed forward to the Shah in haste;He warned the Shah: “Touch not this food nor taste.

Let someone taste it first; the cook has spreadA deadly poison through the milk,” he said.

“May those who hate you drink this fatal fare,While you, great Shah, escape this deadly snare.”

Then Anooshirvan turned his searching eyesUpon the two young men in shocked surprise.

Their mother was the cook, a prudent dame,Devoted to her household and its name.

The brothers, innocent of any wrong,Quickly rolled back their sleeves and stood strong.

They tasted of the milk, both rich and sweet,Then fell down dead before the monarch’s feet.

Before the Shah they perished where they lay;Anooshirvan’s color drained away.

His cheeks grew yellow as fenugreek in bloom;Then wrath and grief together filled the room.

He cried, “Bring Mahbud’s mansion to the ground;Let not one wall remain where it is found.

Upon its dust strike off Mahbud’s own head,And let the cook beside him fall down dead.”

Few in Mahbud’s household lived that day,And few among his kin escaped the fray.

The Shah gave all his treasure up for spoil,His wealth, his women, children, fruits of toil.

Thus old Zarvan attained the end he sought:His dark design had prospered as he thought.

The Jew grew dear to Zarvan, honored high,And raised his head in triumph to the sky.

Time passed; the heavens wheeled in endless round,And still the monarch’s eye no truth had found.

Much later, the Shah chose to hunt one day;His wolf-hunt steeds were mustered in array.

He watched the hunting horses passing by;Among their brands, one marking caught his eye.

Then on some Arab steeds Mahbud’s mark showed;The Shah’s cheeks flushed, and old affection glowed.

His heart still held remembrance of that man;He burned with grief as bitter thoughts began.

He wept, and pain consumed his troubled breast,Remembering Mahbud, once among the best:

“How far the wicked Div led him astray,That man once wise and honored in his day!

With such devotion and a heart so true,Why did his spirit choose the path to rue?

Yazdan of all alone can pierce the guiseAnd know what hidden truth beneath it lies.”

He rode from there toward the hunting plain,His heart still scorched, his followers in his train.

He spoke along the road with men close by,And sought through talk to ease his grief thereby.

He brought musicians, singers skilled in song,Whose art made short the road that stretched along.

Before the Shah, the scribes and chief vizierRode on with old Zarvan, who traveled near.

Their talk turned then to magic, spells, and charms,To witchcraft and Ahriman’s deadly harms.

The Shah addressed the Mobadan: “Take care;Let sorcery bring no trouble or despair.

Speak rather of God’s Faith and righteous way;Keep firm your thoughts, and never go astray.

Seek not for wonders in forbidden art,Nor let black magic captivate the heart.”

Zarvan replied, “May you forever reign,And may your words give wisdom to the brain.

What men report of witchcraft may be true;Its deepest arts are known to just a few.

If milk is in the food, the skilled can stillBy one far glance transform it into ill.”

At this, old memories pierced the monarch’s breast;Mahbud and both his sons denied him rest.

He looked at old Zarvan but nothing said,Then urged his prancing charger on ahead.

His thoughts grew dark, for well the Shah had knownZarvan as Mahbud’s enemy alone.

He thought, “What evil did this villain plan?My own command struck down that worthy man.

Would God Almighty make the matter clear,And grant my heart its peace, and still this fear.

I see this villain’s hand behind the crime,And grief comes flooding back from that dark time.”

He journeyed on, consumed by grief and pain;His tears streamed down his burning cheeks like rain.

At stage’s end he halted by a stream,And pitched his royal camp beside its gleam.

When old Zarvan arrived within the tent,All strangers from the private space were sent.

The Shah spoke next of magic’s hidden skill,And how a glance at milk could work such ill.

“This tale intrigues me,” said the Shah, and thenAsked how death came to Mahbud’s two young men.

Zarvan stood trembling, overcome with dread;The Shah perceived his guilt at once and said:

“Tell me the truth; conceal no part through lies,Nor cloak your crime beneath a false disguise.

For knavery gives birth to evil deeds,And evil fellowship corrupts good seeds.”

Zarvan confessed the secret from the start,But blamed the Jew for every wicked part.

He told the whole design and every snare,Then feigned deep grief and anguish in despair.

The great king heard, then put Zarvan in chains,And sent a rider swift across the plains.

He took two steeds and sped like smoke in flight,To bring the Jew before the monarch’s sight.

When that enchanter reached the royal hall,The Shah spoke mildly in the sight of all:

“Tell me exactly how this deed was done;Speak truth, and hide no matter, not a one.”

The Jew implored the king for safety first,Then bared the black-art secrets he had nursed.

Then all Zarvan had said he brought to light,Their secret counsel, hidden once from sight.

The Shah heard all, amazed, and sent to callThe frontier lords and honored chieftains all,

With high Mobadan learned in sacred lore,And probed the whole affair down to its core.

Before them all the evil-minded JewRecounted all the plotting that he knew.

The Shah commanded: “Strip their skins awayWhile both still draw their breath in mortal clay!

Fill out their hides with pitch and oil and chaff,And hang them high, to make the army laugh;

Upon the gibbet let them hang in view,Transfixed by every shaft the archers drew!”

Walk not through life committing evil deeds;The evildoer reaps what evil breeds.

The Shah sought long for any of Mahbud’s kin,To learn if some had lived through that old sin.

One blameless daughter of his blood was found,With two young kinsmen, virtuous and sound.

To them he gave Zarvan’s entire estate,And all the Jew had gathered up to date.

Still for Mahbud his grieving spirit burned;All night he wept until the dawn returned.

His heart’s blood seemed to stain his grieving breast;He gave the poor rich gifts and sought no rest.

His tongue in prayer implored Yazdan to heedHis plea for pardon for that wrongful deed.

He begged that God would not condemn his nameAs one unjust, deserving tyrant’s shame.

Who worships God and keeps a heart made pureWill take no part in evil and endure.

Though wicked deeds may readily be done,The heart will rue them when their course is run.

Though hard as flint your secret heart may be,In time its hidden truth is plain to see.

However low the voice in which you speak,Time brings concealed things forth for all to seek.

Do good in secret; let your deeds be kind,For secrets in this world no shelter find.

If heart and counsel both from wrong are freed,Both worlds will grant the portion of your deed.

The tale of Zarvan and the Jew is through;Now let the king receive his praises due.

Rule justly, king, and leave a name behind;Let later ages praise your upright mind.

No king, however mighty, from the tombReceives more than a shroud and narrow room.

If righteousness adorns your heart today,Your praise will live when you have passed away.

When all the world acknowledged him as lord,He sought its praise, not pride, as his reward.

The people all lay down in tranquil peace;The wolf and sheep drank where all strife did cease.

The mighty served him, glad to bear his nameInscribed upon their crowns in lasting fame.

The neck knew respite from the mail-shirt’s chain;The fighting men cast off the martial strain.

No shoulder bore the weight of axe or blade;Through every court the sounds of pleasure played.

None strove against that monarch’s sovereign claim;The taxes and the tribute duly came.

He bore all toil with ease and loved the chase,The riding-ground, horses, the open space.

Within his gold-adorned and stately hall,He spoke wise counsel even after wine’s call.

He built a city in the style of Rum,Two farsangs broad, where gardens came to bloom.

A river flowed along the city’s side,With fields and meadows opposite, spread wide.

Within that city rose his royal seat,A palace where the king and court would meet.

Its vaults were worked in silver and in gold,With precious stones in patterns rich and bold.

He raised a dome of ebony and teak,With ivory worked, and hardwoods rare to seek;

With elephant-bone inlaid, carved rich and high,To catch the light and dazzle every eye.

From Rum and Hind he summoned craftsmen skilled,Whose hands could shape whatever they had willed.

All those who learned their masters’ craft and artWere brought to work with skill of eye and heart.

The famous artists of Iran came too,With Nimruz craftsmen, masters tried and true.

He gathered them within that city’s bound,Where workshops rose as craftsmen gathered round.

The prisoners brought from Barbar and from Rum,He settled each and gave them house and room.

The Shah, the glory of the realm and crown,Made beauty flourish all throughout the town.

When it was finished, hamlets ringed it round;He gave it broad tracts of arable ground.

The soil was fruitful and the orchards swelled;New gardens flourished where the settlers dwelled.

The captives brought from Barbar and from Rum,From battle-lands now sunk in grief and gloom,

He settled there, and granted each his place,To make that land a home of peace and grace.

To every man he gave a craft and place,And sent him help when hardship showed its face.

He furnished craftsmen, field hands, farming men,With land surveyors, skilled with line and pen.

With merchants, Mobad teachers, men of state,And common folk, he made the city great.

He decked that city as a paradise;No ugly corner met the gazer’s eyes.

He then called it Sursan, a joyful name,That spoke of feasts and all that monarchs claim;

For in that sur the world-lord found delight,Where revelry and justice joined their might.

In public and in private, justice reigned;He sought the world’s well-being and all gained.

Time took him from his sovereignty and crown,And raised another as it cast him down.

This world is but a shifting, treacherous show;Man keeps no thing within it, high or low.

Hear how the Khan and Heytalians fought;Since battle nears, let gorz and shield be brought.

Thus spoke the rustic bard, that noble man:Keep well in mind the tale his words began.

Of chiefs with grace and justice, war and worth,Of treasure, power, and greatness upon earth,

Save Anooshirvan, none of kingly strainCould match the Khan of Chin in his domain.

From that realm outward to the Jihun’s strand,All people bowed to him throughout the land.

That chief, with troops and treasure, crown and state,Was camped beyond Chakh, watchful, rich, and great.

Beside the Gulzaryun he held his reign,While tidings traveled over hill and plain.

Reports of Anooshirvan spread afar,His manhood, wisdom, grace, and royal star.

The Khan, a prudent man of settled mind,Desired the Shah’s alliance to be signed.

He sat among his counselors awhile;The men of name drew near in ordered file.

For friendship he sought counsel on the deed,And priests advised him how he should proceed.

He made rich presents, more than count could hold,All keepsakes worthy of a king in gold:

Chargers from Chin, fine brocade and rings,With thrones and crowns and swords for mighty kings.

Five-score camel-loads he had preparedOf every treasure that his country shared.

He bade his treasurer bring from his hoardFull thirty thousand gold coins he had stored.

Ten camel-loads of silver, rich and rare,Drawn from the hoarded wealth within his care.

He chose a traveled man of eloquence,A chief of wisdom, bearing force and sense.

He called a scribe and gave him his command;The scribe set down the words his master planned.

On silk, according to his country’s way,The greetings to the Shah were spread that day.

Through Heytalian lands the envoy ran,Where shaft and battleaxe endangered man.

Before their ruler stood a battle-lineFrom Sughd as far as Jihun’s broad confine.

Their ruler was brave Ghatfar, far renowned,The foremost warrior for his valor crowned.

When he had heard what deeds the Khan had done,And gifts prepared for Iran’s royal son,

He called his veterans from the ranks to hear,And spoke at length of danger drawing near:

“Misfortune has descended from the sky;If Chin and Iran forge a lasting tie,

If Shah and Khan unite as trusted friends,Then danger closes on us from both ends.

Their friendship leaves our kingdom trapped and tied;We must strike first before they stand allied.

Ride out at once and intercept the train;Let not the envoy’s life or gifts remain.”

He chose from all his troops a man of name,A chief whose courage matched his violent aim.

He bade him seize the camel-train entire,The laden beasts, the steeds in rich attire.

They slew the envoy; all his guards were killed,And every soldier’s hands with spoil were filled.

One horseman of the Chin troops fled away,And brought the Khan the tidings of that day.

When those dark tidings reached the Khan’s own ear,His heart burned hot with grief, his purpose clear.

From Kachar Bashi all his legions rode;No prince in Chin or far Khutan abode.

No scion sprung from Afrasiab’s lineOr Arjasp’s house had rest, or sleep, or wine.

They marched toward the Gulzaryun in wrath,And vengeance drove them onward down the path.

Elanj, the vanguard’s captain, bold in fray,Whose fearless soul no battle could dismay,

Raised dust that climbed to heaven as he came,To set the Heytalian border-lands aflame.

At Chakh the horsemen’s fury flamed and spread,And Gulzaryun’s waters turned rose-red.

Ghatfar then heard the Khan’s advance resound,And summoned all his warriors around.

From Shiknan came warriors to his side,With arms and wealth; his troops the sun could hide.

From Balkh and Amuy to Khatlan they came,From Tirmid and Visagard, men known by name.

From mountain-track and desert, hill and sand,They pressed like ants and locusts through the land.

The Khan’s troops crossed the river; on the plain,It seemed the sky poured swords instead of rain.

Through Maymargh and Nesaf his forces drew;The sun grew dim, the dust obscured the blue.

Bukhara bristled thick with spear and axe;There Ghatfar camped and planned his fierce attacks.

His warriors came armed and well arrayed,And every native chief his call obeyed.

The troops advanced from every side to war,Until the wind itself could pass no more.

With flashing swords and gorzes in the fray,Iron on iron rang through all the day.

The air itself was dense with flashing steel,As blades and axes made the tumult reel.

A wind arose; the army’s dust rose higher,And sun and moon withdrew from smoke and fire.

The men of Kashan and of Sughd stood near,And watched the battle, overwhelmed by fear.

The eyes of men and women filled with tears,And children trembled in their mortal fears.

They watched which side the circling moon and sunWould favor when the battle’s work was done.

For one full week the rival armies fought,And neither side could gain the ground it sought.

The slain on every side lay heaped in rows,The stones and dust grew red as redbud grows.

So thick were spear and gorz and axe and sword,That clouds seemed raining stones upon the horde.

The sun vanished in reek; dust filled the eyesOf eagles as they labored through the skies.

Upon the eighth day Ghatfar’s fortune failed;The world grew dark, as though by midnight veiled.

The Heytalians broke in lasting pain;For years the wound of battle would remain.

The wounded scattered; every march and plainWas crowded thick with captives and the slain.

The living called on God from heart and tongue,And spoke among themselves while terror clung:

“Never have we beheld such stubborn fight;That force seems not of men to mortal sight.

With faces like wild beasts and Divs, they smite;They heed no warrior’s law of wrong and right.

They know not flight from scimitar or spear,Nor turn from gorz and sword through any fear.

They all have dragon-faces, claws like pards;Their spears could pierce the mountains’ stony guards.

Their steeds stay saddled, ready for the ride;They sleep with weapons lying at their side.

Their chargers feed on thorns; their riders wake,And raid throughout the night for battle’s sake.

They cast themselves into the flames of strife,And seem to know no need for food or life.

A Div alone could challenge them in fight;Against the Khan we have no matching might.

We must seek Iran, bow before its king;If Ghatfar is wise, he will do this thing.

He must submit to Iran’s king, and yieldOur land to him, and lay aside his shield.

But if he will not carry out our will,Then choose a chief whose name is honored still,

One sprung from high and honorable seed,Whom Anooshirvan will approve to lead:

The lord who rules Chaghaniyan, just and brave,Whose prudent mind our broken realm may save.

Let him report the Khan’s deeds to Iran,And tell his tale to wise Anooshirvan.

The world praises Anooshirvan’s high state;His grace and wisdom shine with royal fate.

And wisdom is the cherisher of right;He humbled Caesar’s throne and broke his might.”

The Heytalians, women, men, and young,Were joined as one, with every voice and tongue.

In Chaghaniyan dwelt a lord of worth,Young, wise, just, fortunate, of noble birth.

Faghanish was his name, a lord renowned,With troops and treasure gathered all around.

The chiefs and warriors, all of one accord,Called him to rule and raised him as their lord.

News of the mighty Khan, whose fame was great,Then reached the Shah from messengers of state.

He heard how Khan of Chin had won the fight,And broken all the Heytalians’ might.

He heard how Chaghaniyan’s king rose to reign,Whom fortune lately raised to high domain.

The Shah sat deep in thought, his heart distressedBy words his wary emissaries expressed.

He had a hall prepared within the court,And summoned warriors of the nobler sort.

Then Ardeshir the priest and nobles came,With Yazdegard, the scribe of honored name.

Shapur came too, with counselors and sages,And men of rank from many posts and ages.

They met in council in the royal hall,And Anooshirvan told his grief to all:

“O wise Mobadan, versed in rule and right,And ministers whose judgment lends me light,

Unwelcome news has reached my heart and ear,Accounts at once injurious and severe.

I hear what Khan of Chin has lately done,With Turan’s marzbans gathered into one.

From Chakh, Chin, Turkistan, and Khutan’s groundThey gathered troops that knew no count or bound.

For one whole week they wore their helms in fight,With vengeful blades, nor rested day or night.

The Heytalian army broke beneath the strain;Two-thirds were wounded, taken, or lay slain.

That people lived by gorz and battle-spear;No other race in war could be their peer.

It is a marvel they were worsted so;It came from a foolish sepahbod’s blow.

Had Ghatfar led with judgment in the fray,His army would not have been swept away.

Their land, now leaderless by war’s design,Has sought a prince from Bahram Goor’s own line.

They placed him on the throne to rule and reign,And all bowed down to serve his royal train.

The Khan is camped by Chakh in royal state,With crown and troops and treasure, proud and great.

From Afrasiab and Arjasp he came,And dreams of Iran with ambitious flame.

His triumph over brave Ghatfar’s arrayHas raised his head in pride above the fray.

We must not let the Khan proclaim his fame,As though we gave approval to his claim.

To Chakh and Kasan stretches my domain;Yet Chin grows bold across that border plain.

Our subjects bow beneath them and must yieldTheir lives, their lands, and harvests from the field.

What are your views? How shall we set our courseTo deal with Chin’s Khan and the Turkish force?”

The prudent nobles rose to make reply,First praising him whose fortune climbed the sky.

“O prescient Shah, victorious and wise,Whose farr and insight guide all human eyes,

The Heytalian realm now serves evil’s cause;Its people live by treachery, not laws.

They merit every ill that they may get,Though you speak justly of their danger yet.

Had we no grievance, nothing to repaySave Pirooz’s blood they shed upon that day,

That noble king, the luster of the world,By them was slain, from fortune’s summit hurled,

They should not know one joyful day of breath;Their evil path leads only on to death.

Such is God’s recompense for evil ways:Ill falls on evildoers all their days.

Now, if the Shah regards the Khan with dread,As one whom ancient grievances have led,

Perhaps bad counselors have stirred his hate,Grieved heirs of Afrasiab’s fallen state.

Success may also have enlarged his pride;No wonder caution stands now at your side.

As for Ghatfar and Heytalian might,Let neither trouble your discerning sight.

Direct your caution toward Afrasiab’s line,And Arjasp’s heirs now joined in his design.

Think of the Khan beyond the river’s tide,With all his warriors and his swelling pride.

You are the world’s exalted king and light;From you come wisdom, counsel, and insight.

Blessed is he whom wisdom makes secure;His fame and inward strength alike endure.

You are the wisest in this gathered court;You need no sage, no counselor’s support.

The crown and throne become you above all;Divine farr guards your fortune from a fall.

Still, if the Shah should go to Khorasan,We shall have cause to tremble for Iran.

For Roman legions may return one dayTo wage fresh war when you are far away.

They may avenge themselves on Iran’s ground,And leave no field or mountain pasture sound.

As yet no foe has set foot on our land,Nor raised in hostile thought a threatening hand.

Yet if the Shah displays his will to fight,The river’s own nahangs will freeze in fright.”

The master of the world heard peace and war,And understood what all their counsels bore.

He knew those sages had no will for strife,Preferring feasts, repose, and easy life.

He answered, “Praise to God whom I revereIn both worlds, God whose judgment I hold dear,

That quiet sleep and banquets without endHave made Iran forget how to defend.

Preferring banquets and the peaceful hall,You have grown careless of the karnay’s call.

Yet ease should follow toil when war is done,And treasure crown the victories we have won.

So, in God’s strength, when this month’s days have passed,We shall prepare to raise our banners fast.

To Khorasan I will lead the array,And summon every province on the way.

Warriors and chiefs of name shall gather round;From elephants the tabiras shall sound.

Heytalian and Khan I both shall quell,Nor let them boast that on Iran’s soil they dwell.

I will weed out the wicked from the earth,And through my justice give the realm new birth.

By largess and by justice, both displayed,I will renew the realm my sires have made.”

The nobles marveled, praised him, then replied,And made excuses, heads bowed at his side:

“Triumphant Shah, with farr and justice crowned,May all this age rejoice where you are found.

We chiefs are servants, bowing at your feet,And hold your counsel as command complete.

When you command us into war to ride,You will not find us wanting at your side.”

The Shah and all his counselors would poreUpon each path that led the realm to war.

Thus matters stood until the new moon rose,And sat enthroned in splendor’s bright repose.

They saw the moon upon the Shah’s own face,And acclamations filled the royal place.

When the bright lamp rose over mountain-height,The earth became a golden saddle bright.

A ruby cup seemed set before the eyesUpon a lapis cloth across the skies.

A shout and karnay-blare rose to the sky;The kousts on elephants were lifted high.

The soldiers moved to camp in ordered bands,With tymbal-players marching through the lands.

Then Yazdegard returned to court to sitWith Ardeshir and priests of sacred writ.

They wrote to every chief throughout the land:“The Shah has marched; let revels now be banned.

In loyalty, set feasting now aside,While he goes forth with armies at his side.”

A letter to the Khan he then decreed,And praised Faghanish for his noble deed;

He blessed the new-crowned king in his domain,His gathered troops, and all his martial train.

From Madain marched a vast and mighty band;It seemed that troops filled every stretch of land.

From mountain range to mountain stretched the lines,With royal banners bright with their designs.

At center flew the Shah’s great banner high,While marching dust rose thick and veiled the sky.

Toward Gorgan moved the army in its might,Until the sun itself seemed veiled from sight.

He halted there awhile by hill and plain,Then rode to hunt across the open terrain.

At Gorgan, Shah and troops in council met;At Sughd, the Khan remained on warfare set.

That land was like a sea, both deep and wide,There Arjasp’s kin and Afrasiab’s would ride.

The Khan said, “Earth can scarcely bear my might,My throne, my crown, my troops arrayed for fight.

Against Iran I shall lead my mounted band,And bring my spearmen out across the land.

To Chin I shall bear Iran’s dust away,And bring the Arabs ruin in the fray.

I shall allow no man on earth to claimCrown, throne, or kingship, dignity, or fame.”

Such words he spoke, his heart with pride imbued,And sought through war to see the world subdued.

Then news arrived: the Shah had marched away,From Iran with his army in array.

He heard about the Shah’s success and might,And how his army filled the world with fright.

His ranks, they said, stretched outward without cease;The Khan heard this and lost his inward peace.

His planned inroad was checked by that report;He sat in anxious council at his court.

The army’s great men gathered to his side,And to his minister he spoke in pride:

“We cannot close our eyes to what we hear;This matter calls for judgment, sharp and clear.

They say the Shah has reached Gorgan, his vastBattalions through the country spreading fast.

In truth, he knows no measure of our fame,Or witless pride has set his head aflame.

My army spreads from Chin to Jihun’s tide;Beneath my crown the whole world must abide.

I must confront him now in open fight;Delay will dim my name and glory’s light.

He thinks the reach of kingship ends with him,And every other royal light is dim.

Now he shall learn the force that Chin can wield,When all my horsemen meet him on the field.”

A wise man then addressed the Khan and said,“O monarch, let no thought of war be bred.

Do not confront the Shah or cast awayYour realm and troops to serve as battle’s prey.

No king whose heart and counsel guide him rightWould seek the Shah’s own throne or dare his might.

No monarch has his grace, his star, his sheen;No moon in heaven wears a light so keen.

He claims his tribute both from Hind and Rum,Where wealth and settled peoples thrive and bloom.

He holds the crown and throne in sovereign right;A watchful ruler, blessed with fortune’s light.”

The Khan, on hearing, chose the wiser way,And asked his shrewd adviser what to say:

“How does this matter look before the wise?Two hard alternatives before us rise.

We cannot shun the choice so plainly set,Nor wrap it up in silence and forget.

If war with him is toil and nothing more,Then spending treasure opens peace’s door.

Gold is no food, no garment for the cold,No carpet that our hands can spread and fold.

Gold buys us peace, and clothes and daily bread,And eases every heart that lives in dread.

Let all who fear misfortune spend their gold;For life preserved is richer wealth to hold.”

He chose ten fluent speakers from his train,Skilled men whose eloquence was clear and plain.

A learned man of Chin composed the praise,Observing all his country’s formal ways.

Those ten horsemen set out for the king’s court,With gifts, a letter, and a full report.

When men brought news of them to Anooshirvan,He decked the palace as became Iran.

He ordered that the curtain should be raised,And that the envoys enter, welcomed, praised.

The ten advanced and, bending low, displayedTheir gifts and letter, at his footstool laid.

The Shah received them graciously and well,Then asked what news of Khan they came to tell.

He made them sit; they bowed their heads down low,Then gave the Khan’s own words for him to know.

The scribes received the silken letter, pennedIn Chin’s own script and tongue from end to end.

When Yazdegard began to read aloud,A hush of wonder fell upon the crowd.

It first invoked God’s blessing on the king,And praised Yazdan who rules each mortal thing.

Next came the Khan’s high station and command,His wealth, his troops, the weapons at his hand.

Third, “The Faghfoor has poured his blessings down,And by the World-Creator praised my crown:

He freely gave his daughter’s hand to me,And placed his army under my decree.

The gifts I sent the Shah along the wayThe Heytalians seized and bore away.

I came from Chakh to make Ghatfar repay,To take his crown and treasure in the fray.

From Gulzaryun I rode in such a floodThat all Jihun ran red with warriors’ blood.

Through Chin and Machin spread the Shah’s good fame;I praised the man who told me of his name.

His manliness, his wisdom, modest ways,And learning won my friendship and my praise.

In secret, I desired that we should startA loyal friendship, binding heart to heart.”

The Shah heard all the claims the letter made,The Khan’s great power and prowess it displayed.

They made a lodging ready for the ten,And honored them among the courtly men.

Whenever feasts and revels filled the hall,The king received and fed the envoys all.

For one whole month they shared with him the chase,The hall, the banquet, and the royal place.

One day he held his court upon the plain;The horsemen’s dust rose like a storm of rain.

All marzbans came with golden girdles bright,And stood to serve the Shah in public sight.

Baluch and Gil came bearing shields of gold,Together gathered in a body bold.

A thousand steeds appeared in golden gear,Their rich caparisons shone bright and clear.

Gold-scabbarded scimitars flashed in light,And iron darts and javelins shone bright.

Gold seemed to grow from iron everywhere;Light married metal, dazzling all the air.

Upon an elephant in silk brocade,An ivory throne of splendor was displayed;

With ebony and turquoise banded round,While drums and karnays filled the air with sound.

Ambassadors from Barda, Hind, and Rum,From every court on which the heavens loom,

And horsemen from the plain with spear and bow,Went to the Shah in one assembled row.

Thus to the men of Chin he made it known:From sun to Fish, the realm was his alone.

The air churned thick with dust from every horse;The earth was armed with every warlike force.

They staged mock battle on the open ground;The Pahlevans swept out and wheeled around.

With axe and arrow, gorz and bow in pride,They thundered through the field from side to side.

The plain flashed thick with spear and javelin bright;Both horse and foot drove fiercely into fight.

Each envoy, sent from distant courts, now gazedAt troops whose like he had not known, amazed.

The Shah’s face, glory, patience, and addressFilled them with awe no language could express.

They told the Shah each awed, admiring wordThat from the foreign envoys they had heard.

He told his treasurer, “Bring out my gear,And lay my weapons on the field just here.”

They brought his helmet, jowshan, body-plate,And loosed the buckles on that massive weight.

No warrior, though broad of chest and strong,Could lift that weight amid the watching throng.

The Shah alone had chest and neck to bearThe weight of arms and armor he would wear.

No archer matched his skill with bow and string;No noble warrior could rival the king.

Like some fierce elephant he sought the field,His ox-head gorz in hand, prepared to wield.

Beneath him plunged a fiery battle-steed;The watching throng stood awed by height and breed.

A mighty shout arose; the karnays cried,And bells on elephants rang far and wide.

The drummers marched with cymbals at their head;Hooves hurled the earth sky-high as horses sped.

The King of kings, helmed on his armored steed,Wheeled left and right with mastery and speed.

The envoys praised him, bowing to the ground;The chiefs looked on as cheers rose all around.

Then from the field the Shah turned back his horse,And all the chieftains followed in his course.

In private, envoys spoke of what was seen:“How proud the Shah, how noble was his mien!

He seeks renown and shows his horsemanship,His deadly spearpoint and his iron grip.

We must keep all that we have seen in mind,When to our kings we tell the sights we find.

We shall report that no one, young or old,Has seen the like of Anooshirvan the bold.”

The Shah called for his scribe and Ardeshir,His chief of priests, and bade them both draw near.

On satin then the royal scribe set downIn Pahlavi the answer from the crown.

He bathed his pen’s two cheeks in fragrant scent,With ambergris enriched for high intent.

He praised the Judge who made the heavens above,Who fashioned height and depth, and fashioned love.

“We all are servants; He is King of kings,And wisdom bears true witness to these things.

No breath can pass, no ant can touch the ground,Unless His sovereign order there is found.

I prayed that He, if it should be His will,Would send the Khan my blessing and goodwill.

Now first, concerning what your letter saidOf Heytalians, fierce through wrongful bloodshed:

They armed for evil, bloody and profane,And in the trap prepared for them were slain.

The evil man, though lion-strong in might,Should never stand against God’s law and right.

Though leopard-like they made their fierce display,You broke their force and bore their pride away.

Again, you boast of treasure, troops, and fame,Of Faghfoor’s favor, throne, and royal name.

The wise condemn such vaunting as a stain,When men exalt themselves for empty gain.

You had not seen a crown, a throne, such might;Thus Chakh’s display amazed you at first sight.

Tell this to one who never knew a fight,Nor toil, nor wealth, nor troops in armor bright.

The mighty men of earth have heard my name;Those who have seen me know the force I claim.

When I am pleased, a brook gives more delightThan all the realms of Turan in their might;

Yet when in wrath I spur into the fray,The highest mountain turns to dust away.

Accept the peace; but let no army glideAcross the rapid Jihun’s rolling tide;

Let that broad stream divide your realm and mine,Our lasting peace, our border and confine.

The earth is all my treasury and care;On land and water, all the toil I bear.

Third, you seek friendship, offering a pact,A league of peace maintained in word and act.

Since you prefer the feast, I will not fight;No wise man favors war above delight.

No man of judgment rashly will inviteConflict against a prince of warlike might,

Still less against a man inured to strife,Who never lags where battle stakes his life.

He needs no teacher when the battle cries,But reads the clash with calm and steady eyes.

Amid the fiercest tumult, he has shownThe ease he knows when seated on his throne.

May He who made the world stand at your side;May crown and signet long with you abide.”

The royal seal was set; new glory crownedThe kingly throne, and splendor shone around.

They made a robe of honor, richly planned,According to the custom of the land.

They called the envoys to the Shah’s high place,And he received them there with princely grace.

He gave them spoken words beside the scroll,To make the written answer clear and whole.

The envoys left the palace well content,With acclamations on the road they went.

They came before the Khan with praise made plain,And spoke with awe of Anooshirvan’s reign.

The seasoned Khan dismissed his courtiers all;His minister alone stayed in the hall.

The Khan then called the envoys to make knownAll they had seen about the Shah and throne:

First of his wisdom, counsel, sense, and mind,His stature, speech, and bearing among mankind.

Then next he asked, “How great the arms he wields,And who commands his squadrons in the fields?

Who bears the crown, the signet-ring, the trust?Is his rule fair, his judgment firm and just?

What wealth and armies lie in his command?”Mehran Setad addressed the royal band;

The chief of envoys said, “Mistake him not;No mortal sovereign shares his favored lot.

Throughout our stay he tended us as guests,And kept us glad, and granted our requests.

At home, at feast, in war, and in the chase,We never saw such majesty and grace.

In height, a cypress; in his strength and might,An elephant, majestic to the sight.

His hand, in bounty, is the Nile in flood;His throne, the sky above all flesh and blood.

A fierce nahang in battle’s rank and file;His anger shakes the stoutest heart awhile.

He roars like thunder when his wrath is stirred;The mighty lion quails to hear one word.

Yet when he feasts, his voice is mild and clear,And wins the heart of everyone drawn near.

Upon his throne, like Soroush he is seen,A fruitful tree with lovely branches green.

Iran’s armed troops all stand at his command,And bow before the crown that rules the land.

When he holds court upon the open plain,His troops are more than earth can well contain.

His gorz-men wear gold girdles at his side;His ministers are noble, wise, and tried.

His ivory steps, his thrones and armlets bright,His crowns and collars, elephants of might,

No mortal mind could reckon their amount;God only knows the sum beyond all count.

Though any foe were iron, mountain-high,His wrath would shrink him to a needle’s eye.

Let him who has grown weary of his lifeRise up and challenge Anooshirvan in strife!”

The Khan’s face paled, like fenugreek in flower;His heart grew strained beneath the tidings’ power.

Fear filled his breast at what the envoys said,He wrestled with the anxious thoughts they bred.

He sat displeased among his council near,And spoke to all those men of judgment clear:

“O wise advisers, what is now our way?Who feels this hurt more sharply here today?

He must not conquer us upon the field,Or all our fame to infamy will yield.”

The sages weighed the matter with due care,And sought a path that all of them could share.

The Khan then said, “Our policy is plain:We send a warrior to the Shah’s domain.

We must look deeper into this design,And knit him to my house through kinship’s line.

My daughters fill the bower, fair and wise;Each one a crown before discerning eyes.

I will give one in marriage to the king,And end the fears these present dangers bring.

If we are joined with him by blood and name,No counsel then will move him toward our shame.

For him this bond will be both joy and pride;With others, war is but a jest beside.”

The chiefs approved the counsel of their lord,And cried, “This path is wise!” with one accord.

He chose three men of rank from those arrayed,Well trained to speak and answer as he bade.

He opened all his hoards of gold and stone,And spoke of how true wealth and worth are shown:

“Why store up jewels, why bright gold amass,Unless in fame and honor to surpass?

They serve for feasts and gifts, and ward off shame;Through wealth the realm preserves its strength and name.”

He ordered gifts prepared with lavish care,Such as no high or low had seen elsewhere.

He called a seasoned scribe and then made knownThe counsel he would send before the throne.

First he gave praise to God, the Maker wise,Whose power sustains the earth and turning skies.

Lord of the sun and moon, of Saturn’s sphere,Lord of all triumph, mastery, and fear,

Who asks His servants only to be just,And lets no righteous measure fall to dust:

“His blessing rest on Iran’s royal light,Whose gorz and helm and sword unite in fight.

Lord of the crown and throne, of thought and might,By God of victory crowned with fortune bright.

The king of kings, from royal lineage sprung,Wise, grave, and just, by every wise man sung,

Knows well that men, however high their state,Desire the love and honor of the great.

When my wise envoys, partners at my side,Returned from your great court in loyal pride,

They told me fully of the Shah’s high name,His justice, wisdom, throne, and rising fame.

They spoke of fortune, crown, and sovereign grace,And glory shining from his royal place.

His light awakened longing in my breast,To seek beneath his wings a place of rest.

No treasure equals children wise and true;They are the heart’s own blood and honor too.

Therefore, if he desires, let him demandOne stainless daughter from my royal land:

The gentlest, fairest, wisest of them all,Fit for his throne and fortune’s highest call.

She will bring profit to his royal reign,And join Iran with Chin across the plain.

Our borders then will meet from side to side,And I shall spread your praises far and wide.”

They wrote on silk of Chin the words he told,And sealed the letter with his seal of gold.

The Khan then chose three nobles of his line,Whose speech and judgment both were clear and fine.

They quit that lofty court and pressed ahead,And turned toward Iran, where their errand led.

The three wise men of rank approached the hall,And bowed before the Shah, observed by all.

A gem-encrusted crown the envoys bore,With torques and armlets from the Khan’s own store;

Full thirty thousand golden coins they laid,With silks of Chin in dazzling sheen displayed.

They laid them as a gift before the king,With all the wealth that loyal envoys bring.

Gold, silver, and brocades from Chin’s far homeMade earth seem brighter than the sky’s blue dome.

When all the envoys had been duly seated,Their native words of blessing were repeated.

The Shah’s chief minister prepared their quarters,A fitting lodge, with servants, grooms, and porters.

Heaven turned one night; when morning’s flame arose,And sunlight climbed above the mountain snows,

The Shah sat on his turquoise throne, the weightOf jeweled crown and royal robes ornate.

He ordered Mobadan and chiefs renownedTo gather with the sages all around.

He said, “Bring forth and lay before the scribeThe silk-writ letter from the Khan’s own tribe.”

The nobles sat around the Shah to hearThe letter; Yazdegard himself drew near.

He read the letter; all who heard were moved,Amazed by all the courtesy it proved.

Goodwill, apology, and praise were shownIn every line the Khan had made his own.

The wise and famous chiefs began to praiseThe king whose fortune blessed their peaceful days:

“Thanks be to God, our refuge and our shield,Who set such majesty upon the field,

A Shah endowed with victory and grace,With kingly fortune shining from his face;

Good, kind, and prudent, fierce in battle’s heat,A raging elephant no foe can meet;

At feast, he gives with free and open hand;His foes below him in the world must stand.

If they deserve that lesser rank and name,They stand beneath your greatness and your fame.

We feared the Khan, Chakh’s power, crown, and might,Whose troops and treasure darkened all our sight.

But now, through royal grace, he is our friend,And seeks a bond that brings division’s end.

The wisest chiefs, though ready for the fight,Will offer peace when peace upholds the right.

Because the Khan knows well he cannot standAgainst the Shah, he offers kinship’s hand.

We should not let this matter wait too long;Such kinship brings the Shah no shame or wrong.

From Chin to broad Bukhara stretch his bands;The chiefs find shelter in his guarding hands.”

When the Shah heard what all the wise men said,The keen Mobadan each bowed an honored head.

They sent the strangers from the meeting place,And brought the envoys in before his face.

The king of kings received them with delight,And gave them honored seats within his sight.

They gave their master’s message word by word,And faithfully repeated all they heard.

When he had heard the chiefs of Chin appealIn accents mild and bold, with fervent zeal,

He said, “The Khan is honored, great, and wise;Through his dear child he seeks our household ties.

By this he shows the goodwill in his mind;The wise examine matters of each kind.

We shall take counsel, weighing what we heard,Then give a full reply to every word.

But one condition must be understood:The Khan must let me choose as wisdom should.

I shall send a sage, skilled in judgment’s art,To view his women and discern each heart.

He shall select the one the Khan holds dear,Whose noble birth and excellence are clear.

He shall learn her mother’s father’s name and birth,And weigh her mother’s lineage and worth.

When all that I have named is duly done,Our houses shall be joined through her as one.”

The envoys praised the Shah and answered then:“The Khan of Chin rejoices among men.

Though jewels rained within his women’s hall,He would give every coin at Kisra’s call.

Choose from your sages one both wise and true;The ladies shall come forward into view,

And none shall veil her face before his eyes;He shall examine each as he thinks wise.”

The Shah heard all the words the envoys spoke;Within him, joys of former days awoke.

He called a scribe and praised the Khan at length,Then shaped his answer with a measured strength.

He first praised God, the sovereign Lord of all,Who feeds the world and makes proud kingdoms fall.

“The world stands firm beneath His sovereign law;He guides our hearts from error into awe.

He grants men worth and raises those brought low,As wisdom and His sovereign purpose show.

Another man He leaves in luckless night,Denied the favor of His guiding light.

For every grace, to Him our thanks are due;Fear no misfortune: He will guide us through.

May life within my breast itself departIf hope and fear of Him forsake my heart.

The honored envoys stood before my face,And brought the Khan’s kind message to this place.

I heard what he had said about a league,And of his daughters, pure beyond intrigue.

My heart would gladly welcome such a bliss,And through his chaste child seal a bond like this.

See, I have sent to you a prudent man,One whose wise mind can understand my plan.

When he arrives, my thoughts he will reveal,And nothing of my purpose will conceal.

May reverence forever fill your mind;Remain our faithful friend, sincere and kind.”

The writer, when the pen had done its part,Adorned the page with practiced care and art.

The royal letter, written fair and neat,Received the sovereign’s seal upon the sheet.

From royal stores came robes in rich array;Each envoy took a robe of honor away.

He chose Mehran Setad, an elder just,A wise old chief in whom the Shah could trust.

He chose five score, Iran’s mounted elite,Renowned among their peers, skilled and discreet.

He said to old Mehran, “Go on your roadGlad, just, and loving in that strange abode.

Speak with the force that guides a prudent chief,And let your wisdom bring the court relief.

Let kindness fill your heart in all you do,Yet keep your judgment searching, firm, and true.

Survey the women’s quarters with due care,And weigh each daughter’s merit, foul or fair.

Do not be fooled by face or outward guise,By grace, display, or gems that dazzle eyes.

Behind his curtains is a daughter tall,A stately cypress in the women’s hall.

The children of his slaves are not for me,Though kings may be their fathers in degree.

Look for the one both modest, kind, and true,Whose mother shares Khatoon’s own lineage too.

Faghfoor of Chin must be her mother’s sire;The Khan her father: such is my desire.

If gifts within her match her noble birth,She will live joyful and delight the earth.”

Mehran Setad heard all the Shah had said,And blessings on the crown and throne he spread.

He left the world-bright portal of the king,At fortune’s hour beneath a favored wing.

Upon Khordad he started on his way,Beneath a sign made fortunate that day.

Swift news of his approach the Khan did learn,And sent his troops to greet him in return.

When he arrived before the Khan’s high place,He kissed the ground and spoke with courtly grace.

That world-aspiring king received him well,And gave him honored rooms in which to dwell.

Yet troubled by the weight of this affair,He sought the queen, his heavy heart to bare.

He sat beside her, troubled in his heart,And spoke with grief of what would make them part:

“If to the Shah our daughter is denied,War’s dragon stirs upon the border side.”

The Khatoon wept, by bitter thoughts possessed,Then wove a stratagem within her breast.

She said: “Four other maids of slave-stock dwellWithin our bower, and they are fair as well.

Deck those four maidens out in crowns and gold,With every jewel dazzling to behold;

My daughter we shall clothe in plain array,With unadorned and humble robes of gray.

The Shah’s old sage will pass the plain one by,And choose the brightest to enchant his eye.”

In talk like this they passed the night away,Until the sun climbed up the mountain way.

Then wise Mehran Setad came near the seat,And gave the Khan the royal scroll complete.

The Khan read through the words; they made him smile,The marriage offer couched in gracious style.

He gave the key that would unlock the bower,And said, “Go look upon the hidden flower.”

Four trusted slaves came forward at his side,To lead Mehran where veiled women hide.

He bowed, then took the key into his hand,And entered with them at the Khan’s command.

He opened every door within the hall;The servants cried in wonder, one and all:

“No star or sun or moon has seen the sightThat now before your eyes will blaze with light.”

The ladies’ bower seemed Paradise remade,With suns and moons and treasures richly laid.

Five fairy-faced young maidens sat arrayed,With crowns and jewels in that hall displayed,

All but the daughter born of queenly line,Who wore no crown, no torque, no jewel’s shine.

She wore a worn robe, humble to the eyes,Her musky locks her crown beneath the skies.

Her cheeks were not adorned with artful dye;Her natural beauty met the gazer’s eye.

A cypress stood, with new moon overhead,Whose luster round her throne was softly spread.

When old Mehran beheld the maidens fair,He saw none like the one with humble air.

Shrewd in his counsel, firm in heart and aim,He knew the royal pair had staged a game.

The maiden used her hands to veil her eyes,And hid her face with innocent disguise.

Mehran grew angered and addressed the slaves:“The Shah has crowns and thrones and gems he saves.

I choose the girl without the jeweled crown;The Shah has gems to match her high renown.

To choose by judgment of my own I came,Not to buy Chin’s silk for its vaunted name.”

The queen replied, “Old man, your words are cold;Your counsel is not gracious, wise, or bold.

You choose a child, too young as yet to reign,Above these women? Then your choice is vain.

They kindle hearts, tall cypress-trees in grace,With spring-bright cheeks and majesty of face.

They know the worship owed to kings and crown,And bear the courtly arts of high renown.”

Mehran replied, “If Khan deals falsely here,The truth before the Shah will soon appear.

Then Anooshirvan, monarch of the earth,Will call me false, disgraced, of little worth.

Four on their golden thrones in splendor shine,Yet lack the blood of royal Faghfoor’s line.

I choose the maid who sits in plain attireUpon the throne of teak; her I require!

But if your Highness will not give consent,Allow me now to leave as I was sent.”

The Khan looked on, astonished at his art,And at the judgment of his prudent heart.

He knew the elder, wise in thought and deed,Had all the skill such weighty matters need.

He sat beside his wife to weigh the case,And cleared the others from that meeting place.

The star-readers came with charts in hand,With mighty men and chiefs from every land.

The Khan commanded every learned manTo read the heavens and reveal their plan.

The sages scanned the stars to find the way,And read what fate for Khan and Shah would say.

Their spokesman said, “O King, let grief depart;Let no dark thought or evil vex your heart.

This bond shall prosper; cast your fears aside;No foe with ill intent shall here abide.

High Heaven has ordained what stars proclaim,And in the horoscope has marked the same:

‘From her shall spring a world-commanding son,By whom both realm and lineage shall be one:

Great Hormizd, who shall wear the Kayan crown,While Chin and Iran tremble at his renown.’”

The Khan, on hearing this, grew glad of heart,And from his face all care seemed to depart.

The sunlike queen smiled also, bright and clear;Their hearts were purged of craft, deceit, and fear.

They called the envoy near and let him knowAll he would need before they let him go.

They spoke about the queen’s secluded child,So long kept hidden, stainless, fair, and mild.

On the Shah’s behalf, Mehran received her handFrom her own father, ruler of the land.

The Khan bestowed the daughter of his queen,Her only child, of noble form and sheen.

The handmaids came with gifts and joyful grace,And gladly bowed before the royal face.

A wealth of varied treasures was displayed:Gold coins and gems in shining heaps were laid.

There shone a turquoise litter, crowns ablaze,An ivory throne, and torques that held the gaze.

From Hind an aloe-wooden throne was brought,With gold and jewels intricately wrought.

With every throne they set a royal crown,To send as signs of glory and renown.

Two hundred horses waited, harnessed bright,With golden bits and bridles flashing light;

A thousand camels bore upon the roadPriceless fine silk and jewels in each load.

From distant Chin the camels bore brocade,And forty cloths of gold, richly displayed.

Emeralds were set in every golden fold,While carpets filled a hundred loads, all rolled.

Two hundred maidens then were brought in line,Each mounted, bright with ornaments that shine;

Each held a golden chalice, as the wayIn Chin required when brides were on display.

The Khan, with fortune standing at his side,Prepared an elephant in lordly pride.

Upon its back a jeweled throne was set,Where gold and silver every gem beset.

A flag of Chinese silk was raised on high;Its folds trailed on the ground beneath the sky.

A hundred men were needed there to raiseThat standard skyward through the public gaze.

A litter decked with brocade and with goldConcealed the maiden none might yet behold.

Three hundred handmaids, cheerful, bright of mien,Attended that moon-visaged child serene.

The Khan then sent his daughter to the king,With troops around her in a guarded ring.

A hundred eunuchs marched before the maid,With golden belts and scimitars displayed.

The scribe was summoned to the train’s array;Silk, musk, and rosewater were brought that day.

He first gave praise to God, the Maker high,Yazdan whose watchful vision fills the sky.

He shaped all things by His divine decree,And guides His servants where their ends shall be.

“To Iran’s Shah, whose wisdom guards the land,Who holds the crown and throne in his command.

Not for my daughter’s sake I sought this tie,Nor set a league before the Shah’s clear eye.

But when wise nobles, priests with thoughtful careHad told me of his grace and royal air,

His majesty, his fortune, throne, and might,I sought his bond, his friendship, and his light.

No ruler in the world is just as great,Nor one so marked by mastery and state.

In manhood, victory, and royal worth,God holds him up in wisdom on this earth.

In grace, in bearing, in crown and throne he stands,While holy justice strengthens both his hands.

With faith and wisdom God sustains his way;And nurtures all his greatness day by day.

According to our rites, we now shall sendOur very eye, your service to attend.

We send her now to you, great Shah, as bride,To dwell behind your curtains at your side.

I charge her there to serve you with goodwill,And learn your wisdom, customs, conduct still.

From grace and insight she will learn your ways;May wit and fortune strengthen all your days.

May majesty and knowledge be your stay,And guide your crown through every royal way.”

They sealed the scroll with musk and royal art,Then gave it to their guest, who would depart.

With compliments, the Khan prepared for himA robe whose splendor made all others dim.

No lord on earth had ever robed a guestIn such array, so splendid and so blest.

He gave the suite rich gifts, a treasure-hoardOf fragrant musk and minted gold outpoured.

Then with his daughter, goods, and loaded train,He traveled outward toward the Jihun plain.

The beasts and elephants were richly dressed;The Khan went with them, sorrow in his breast.

He reached the Jihun’s bank and wept heart’s blood,While grief within him rose, a surging flood.

He waited till the train had safely crossed,Then turned for home, though all his joy seemed lost.

When news of wise Mehran’s approach was spread,The people lined the roads that lay ahead.

With one consent they blessed the Shah’s high name,And gave the chief of Chin the same acclaim.

They welcomed her with largess, gifts, and cheer,And pledged their friendship as the bride drew near.

They decked the roads and cities for the bride,And showered minted silver at her side.

Toward Amuy, Marv, Bistam, and Gorgan’s way,The earth grew bright as pheasant plumes in day.

In field and town the sky was almost lost,By arches, banners, ornaments embossed.

From home came men and women, children too,To meet the idol as her train came through.

They showered silver on her escort fair,And sifted musk and amber through the air.

There rang karnay, pipe, tabira’s deep hum,With harp and song; no quiet hour could come.

Their horses’ manes were wet with musk and wine;Sweetmeats and coins beneath their feet would shine.

When that fair idol reached the royal bower,The Shah looked in and saw a cypress flower.

Above it shone the round moon’s amber crown,With musky chain-like curls cascading down.

Like scented rings, her curls on roses lay;Between her brows shone Jupiter’s bright ray.

Astonished, he invoked the Maker’s grace,And had them deck for her a fitting place.

When news of Iran and her king had flownTo Chin’s great Khan, and to his court was known,

And how his child had been received with joy,With no distrust, no insult, no alloy,

He yielded Sughd and Chakh, and Samarkand,Then sent his crown to Kachar Bashi’s land.

The Shah’s just rule rebuilt what had decayed,And all slept safe beneath his spreading shade.

All people everywhere raised hands in prayer,And called down blessings through the open air:

“O Ruler over space and turning time,Keep Anooshirvan in justice at his prime.

Turn Fortune’s evils far from his domain;Let no dark hour bring sorrow to his reign.

For by his royal grace and just command,Both public and private ills have left the land.

When he reached Gorgan for the royal chase,No Khan of Chin still dared to show his face.

The mighty horsemen of Chin could find no rest;No rider left his horse, by fear oppressed.

Three hundred thousand Turkish troops were gone,Without a battle fought or sword yet drawn.

No bowstring now need strain; no great or smallOf Chin remains within these lands at all.

Such was his grace divine, such kingly sheen,When that fierce lion sought the hunting green.

Such was his name, so blessed his star’s career,That fortune served his throne in every sphere.”

Then nobles gathered from the lands around,From Chakh, Amuy, Khutan, on common ground.

They said, “These spacious regions, rich of yield,With lofty halls, and grounds where horsemen wheeled,

Chakh, Tarak, Samarkand, and Sughd’s wide plainLie desolate, where owls alone remain.

Chaghaniyan, Khatlan, Shiknan, Balkh have knownDark days of grief throughout the lands they own.

Khwarazm, Bukhara, Amuy, Zam; all these,Still bleed with wounds; our hearts can find no ease.

Once none could rest; all hearts were filled with dread,Beneath Afrasiab’s cruel rule they bled.

Yet we found rescue when Kay Khosrow came,And warfare fled before his royal name.

Then Arjasp rose and filled these marches wideWith grief and ruin, anguish, blood, and pride.

But when Goshtasb from Iran marched to war,Arjasp could find no refuge from its roar.

His deeds brought peace and quiet to the land;May none like Arjasp rise to take command.

Afterward, when Narsi became the chief,These lands were filled with misery and grief.

But when Shapur, son of Hormizd, grew strong,And Narsi, dazed, could not hold out for long,

The world found justice, quiet, ordered breath,And Ahriman’s hand was stayed from harm and death.

When from Yazdegard the Khan seized the world,And into wrong and ruin all was hurled,

Then Bahram Goor arose in royal might,And broke his power, restoring law and right.

He made these regions bloom, dispelled decay,And drove all foulness from the land away.

Then Khoshnavaz, in Shah Pirooz’s day,Spread bloodshed, burning ruin, and dismay;

Till wise Faghanish rose to take the reins,And brought relief to our tormented plains.

Now Anooshirvan holds our marches fast,And all our former misery has passed.

Forever may his policy endure,And make the whole world one, secure and pure.

Now earth sees justice; we shall seek no pain,Nor shed men’s blood to make ambition plain.”

Then Heytalians, Turks, and Khutan’s bandMet by the Gulzaryun’s flowing strand.

From every quarter where wise priests were found,Or learned lords whose counsel was renowned,

The prudent Turks all gathered there in awe,A mighty concourse beneath his law.

Their common purpose now was clear and plain:To bring the Shah their gifts and end all strain.

When they came near him, heart and tongue made one,They filled his court beneath the royal sun.

So dense the crowd became at court that day,No ant or gnat could find an open way.

They bowed to earth and praised the Shah aloud,And spoke as one voice from the gathered crowd:

“O Shah, we are your slaves and live to doYour bidding in the world, loyal and true.

We all are nobles, armed for battle’s field,Whose spears tear leopard hide and shatter shield.”

The king of kings received their gifts, well pleased;Their hearts, so long in dread, were now appeased.

Their leader Faghanish came with that band;Young warriors went before him at his command.

When they had found such favor in his sight,The chamberlain went forth with greetings bright.

He gave them formal welcome at the gate,And lodged each man according to his state.

Then Anooshirvan, who worshipped only God,Passed from the audience hall down to the sod.

He offered thanks before Yazdan of light,With tearful heart and soul made pure and bright:

“O You above all turns of Fortune’s wheel,Who grant me grace, success, and righteous zeal,

You are my Guide in every good and ill,The source of counsel and my sovereign will.

All those who hear my name renounce the crown;They bow in meekness and their pride falls down.

They all submit and choose to be my men;No heart has courage to oppose me then.

Birds on the mountains, fishes in the stream,Keep watch for me when I lie down to dream.

All wild things serve as sentinels for me,The mighty of the world bow at my knee.

No man stays base whom You elect and raise,O Lord of all, the source of all my days.

Grant me such strength that no ant, day or night,Shall suffer through me, hidden from my sight.”

With many tears he laid his spirit bare,And poured his heart before Yazdan in prayer.

Who in the world could find a king like him,Whose justice kept no subject’s future dim?

Then from his place of prayer he rose to go;His troops prepared to march in ordered flow.

The karnays blared; the brazen cymbals cried,And thunder rolled from court on every side.

He called for horses, marshaled all the train,Invoking God, whose gifts forever remain.

He gathered crowns and belts, brocade and gold,With gems, bright silver, treasures manifold.

He took fine steeds and women from the court,With crowns and riches of the noblest sort.

The turquoise litter and the ivory seat,With heart-enchanting handmaids, fair and sweet,

With servants of all ranks in fine array,He sent them on to Tisfoon that day.

Before them went the Chin-born women, veiled,While eunuchs guarded all, and none assailed.

Mehran Setad accompanied the queen,And served as guardian of the moving scene.

The Khan’s fair daughter, treasure, baggage, train,All journeyed on to Tisfoon’s broad plain.

A warrior band, the flower of the land,The noblest men who served at his command,

On to Azar Abadagan they rode;From every land fresh troops in numbers flowed.

From Gilan and Dilaman the soldiers came,From Baluch mountains, desert lands by name,

From Saruch’s plain the men of Kuch drew near,And laid their gifts before the Shah with cheer.

The Shah rejoiced to see their strife now cease:“The wolf no longer preys upon the fleece.”

Through ages strife with Kuch had never ceased,And cities knew distress that still increased.

Through Anooshirvan’s grace and royal power,The sky forsook its customs from that hour.

Wherever that great army used to pass,It harmed no crop, no water, bread, or grass.

They took no bread or water on their way,But made their beds where open country lay.

Thus Anooshirvan journeyed, and assessedWhere loss had fallen, where the land was blessed.

He saw the whole world full of crops and grain,With sheep and oxen spread through hill and plain.

A place where none had lived or sown before,Where none had gathered harvest, crop, or store,

He saw now peopled, bearing fruit, and tilled,With households thriving, granaries well filled.

The trees grew heavy through God’s farr divine,And through the Shah’s good fortune seemed to shine.

At one stage in the progress of the king,An envoy came from Caesar, gifts to bring.

He brought fine robes and silver, heaps of gold,With Roman jewels, brocade fold on fold.

The gifts were spread across the open ground;No greater tribute sent from Rum was found.

Ten ox-hides packed with minted coin were weighed,The yearly sum of tax owed, duly paid.

With these great presents Caesar sent a scroll,Addressed to that famed king of kingly soul.

They brought the envoy to the royal hall,And read the letter there before them all.

Its words were full of goodwill warm and clear,Concerning gifts that Caesar sent him here:

“Hereafter I shall send you greater things;A crown is also owed the king of kings.”

The Shah received the gifts and gave commandTo store them with the treasures of the land.

Then, turning from the gifts, he spurred his horse;Straight toward Azargashasp he held his course.

While still afar, he saw the holy place,And tears came flowing down his royal face.

He dismounted, with barsom in his hand,And prayed before the shrine on sacred land.

He reached the Fire, adored the Maker’s name,And bowed before the temple’s sacred flame.

He gave the bursar gold from all his store,And precious gems and treasures by the score.

On all the Mobadan his bounty flowed:Gold, silver, gems, and robes, a costly load.

Enriched, the priests drew near with cups to raiseBefore the sacred Fire in murmured praise.

They blessed the Shah who ruled the world, and thenToward Tisfoon he led his fighting men.

So vast the marching ranks, so dense their train,The earth seemed Mount Bistoon beneath their strain.

In every city where the Shah drew near,He gave the poor both silver and good cheer.

Yet though such wealth flowed freely from his hand,With treasure and with drachms he filled the land.

To proud Madain’s gates he came at last,Where Tisfoon’s vaulted halls held treasures vast;

Within the royal vaults the hoards were laid,While all the court gave homage and obeyed.

Two hundred maidens graced the bride’s array,While wise Mehran Setad still led the way.

The Shah returned and sat upon his throne;Good fortune made his royal cause her own.

The world, through justice, wore a garden’s face,Adorned with wealth, good order, rest, and grace.

Strife, bloodshed, and injustice passed away,And grace divine renewed the world’s bright day.

Evil itself seemed shackled to the ground;No raid or plunder anywhere was found.

None stretched a hand toward wickedness or prey;All came from darkness to the righteous way.

If bright silver fell upon the public road,A thief would pass and fear to touch that load.

Brocade and gold lay out beneath the sky;No thief would dare to take them, passing by.

The Shah’s just rule transformed the earth to seemA Paradise, where wealth flowed like a stream.

Each valley, desert, province, open plainWas filled with treasure underneath his reign.

Dispatches went to every province wide,To every lord and man of name and pride.

From Turkistan, from Chin and Saklab cameGreat wares that magnified Iran’s fair fame.

Musk-bags, Chin silk, and Roman wares arrived,With goods from Hind, while every market thrived.

Iran became like Paradise in mirth;Its dust was musk, its bricks like gold on earth.

The world found rest; its misery withdrew,And happiness across the kingdom grew.

The breezes seemed to scatter fragrant spray;Men found relief from pain and fear each day.

Rain touched the rose in season from the sky,No violent downpour harmed the fields nearby.

The world grew full of herbage, flocks, and flowers,With blooming plains and valleys rich in bowers.

All streams seemed seas; the gardens shone with rose,Clustered like Pleiades where soft wind blows.

Men learned new tongues within Iran’s domain,And lit their souls with knowledge free from stain.

They thanked the Shah, their guide, and blessed his name;From every border wealthy traders came.

From Turkistan and Chin, from Hind and Rum,They came; each homestead’s herds outgrew their room.

All learned men and ready speakers foundA place where honor spread their fame around.

The great, the learned, and the priests won fame;The wicked trembled when stern judgment came.

Whenever sunrise dressed the world in flame,The royal herald spoke in justice’s name:

“O servants of the monarch of the earth,Hide no wrong deed, whatever rank or birth.

Whoever labors faithfully shall earnThe fitting treasure given in return.

Bring every claim before our chamberlain;Through him our hand will ease all toil and pain.

If any creditor should press the poor,Our treasurer shall pay; their peace is sure.

The destitute shall not be harmed by debt;Our law shall free them from the lender’s net.

If any man invades another’s bed,By lust and lawless wickedness misled,

While still the injured husband draws his breath,No pardon saves the culprit from his death;

His wealth and goods are seized without delay,And to the injured husband given away.

If any steed should graze on tilth or grain,And cause the grieving farmer loss or pain,

The horseman shall be stripped of mount and gear,To march on foot among the ranks severe.

The ruined harvest shall be paid in full,From what the soldier’s yearly wage would pull;

The registrar shall strike his pay away,And dock one half his earnings for the day.

His name is canceled from the army’s roll;They raze his home to purge the sinful soul.

No wicked servant shall find favor here,Where only righteous men in truth draw near;

Let none approach the threshold of the throneWho leaves the seeds of lawless injustice sown.”

One day the Shah sat joyful in his state,With wisdom’s greatest men before his gate.

He smiled with open face and words of cheer,And seated Bozorgmehr beside him near.

The sage spoke praise; the king’s heart blossomed bright,Like springtime gardens waking into light.

He said, “Just judge, bright-faced and proven true,May no fault-finder find a fault in you.

Blessed king of kings, whose fortune does not wane,Wise world-master, triumphant in your reign,

I wrote in Pahlavi upon a scrollOf royal paper, counsel for the soul.

I gave your treasurer the words I penned,For you alone to read when duties end.

Yet heaven moves slowly with its hidden plan,And does not soon reveal its truth to man.

Suppose a man should leave the feast aside,And take his life in hand where armies ride;

Suppose he sweeps the earth of every foe,And breaks the snares that Ahriman may throw;

Suppose he rules the world, his will obeyed,Each wish fulfilled, his banners high displayed;

Suppose by bravery he wins the earth,And fills his courts and gardens with its worth;

Suppose he stores up wealth on every side,With sons around him, honor, joy, and pride;

Suppose he gathers warriors, gold, and grain,And builds bright halls for pleasure in his reign;

Suppose the poor toil hard beneath his hand,While treasure heaps up round him through the land;

Still, willing or unwilling, he gains dust;His lifetime is too brief for lasting trust.

His span will not complete a hundred years;Death ends the toil of all his hopes and fears.

His riches will belong to hostile hands;No crown, no throne, no army with him stands.

No child, no treasury, no palace wallWill follow when his final shadows fall.

When he has ceased to chase each empty prize,Who will recall his name beneath the skies?

Of all his acts when life has reached its close,A good name is the flower that still grows.

Two things endure within this passing frame;All else burns down to ash without a name:

Choice sayings and good deeds remain in trust,When palaces and bodies turn to dust.

These last until the world’s last day is done;Remember this, auspicious royal one.

Time cannot spoil good fame or honest speech,No sun or rain or wind can dim their reach.

The modest, virtuous man alone is blessed;Avoid the faults that shame the inward breast.

Do harm to none, but help where help is due;So faith and precedent prescribe to you.

I leave behind these words for later need,Words that will never lose their living seed.”

He opened wide the king’s discerning heart;The Shah then questioned him on wisdom’s art.

“Who is the glorious man whose heart is glad,Who does not sigh, nor live in spirit sad?”

The sage replied, “The innocent alone,Whose heart the Div has never made his own.

The man who has not crossed the righteous lineCan keep his heart at peace with law divine.”

The Shah asked next about the Div’s dark road,And God’s true way, where wisdom finds abode.

Bozorgmehr answered, “Follow God’s command;In both worlds it will help you firmly stand.

Farr comes from Him; the doorway into illLeads toward the foe of those who serve God’s will.

The high-souled man is blessed throughout the earth,For modest holiness adorns his worth.

Since knowledge guards him, life gives him release;He dwells in righteousness and inward peace.

He knocks not at the door of guile or loss,Nor lets corrupt desire his spirit cross.

The body takes its share of what we gain;The soul shines bright beyond this mortal reign.

Yet he neglects neither body nor soul,But keeps both blade and scabbard sound and whole.

Let wisdom govern every wish and deed;Then give the soul the knowledge it will need.

Give no ear to the man who vaunts his name;His boastful words will dim your spirit’s flame.

Who fears not God will let desire be fed,While wisdom starves and withers in its stead.

His soul needs knowledge, yet he will not hearThe wise instruction that would make it clear.”

Anooshirvan then asked, “Among the great,Who reaches highest rank in human state?”

Bozorgmehr said, “The one with deepest lore,Who rules desire and asks for nothing more.”

The Shah said, “Who is truly learned and wise,Since knowledge hides unseen from outward eyes?”

“He who does not, at the Div’s command,Sever his heart from God’s sustaining hand;

Nor, through vain appetite, obey that foeWho traps the soul and brings the wise man low.

Ten Ahrimans possess a lion’s might,And overpower wisdom in the fight.”

The Shah said, “Name these Divs and make them plain,Since wisdom has good cause to mourn their reign.”

He answered: “Greed and Need hold foremost sway,Two ravenous Divs that lead the soul astray;

Then Wrath and Envy, Shame and Vengeance fed,And Slander whispering what malice bred;

Then Duplicity and Heresy combine,With base Ingratitude to Grace Divine.”

The Shah asked, “Which is strongest of them all,And has most power to hold a soul in thrall?”

He answered, “Greed, the tyrant of the soul,Whose lasting power keeps men in its control.

You will not see him satisfied by gain;He labors always after more with pain.

Then Need comes next, pale-faced and full of care,Whose sleepless hunger drives men to despair;

Then Envy wakes, a sickness cold and drear,That stirs up bloodshed, discord, strife, and fear.

His soul is pained when others prosper well;Their joy becomes to him a private hell.

Shame is another Div, inflamed and quick,Forever ready for some violent trick.

Revenge is wrathful, turbulent, and near,Swift to awaken battle-cries and fear.

It makes men loveless, harsh, and grim of face,Malignant, miserly, and void of grace.

Another, Slander, knows no trade but lies,And never lets a truthful word arise.

Then Double-dealing, two-faced, false in mind,Fears not the God who masters humankind.

It casts revenge and strife between two friends,And labors till the bond between them ends.

The last is thankless Ignorance in thought,A witless Div whom no good lesson taught.

He scorns sound counsel, modesty, and right;To him both good and evil share one light.”

The king then asked, “How does the Div assailThe heart? What help from God will then prevail

For servants, so that they may counteractThe Div’s assault, its pressure, and its pact?”

That man of faith replied, “O Shah, take heed;Against the Divs, let wisdom guide each deed.

It is the jowshan that can check their blade,The guarded fortress where the heart finds aid.

It lights the sage’s heart and active mind,Records the past, and leaves no truth behind.

It nourishes the soul with truths made plain;May wisdom firmly guard your crown and reign.

The road before you stretches hard and long;Make wisdom second nature, firm and strong.

Then, fearless of the Div, the heart will stayIn wholesome joy and shun desire’s way.

Now I will speak of hope, the heart’s true guide,That brings it joy and casts all fear aside.

The sage is always hopeful in his time,And sees in fortune happiness sublime.

He does not brood on evil for an hour,Nor bend like bows beneath misfortune’s power.

The contented man will never stretch his handToward treasure, nor exhaust himself for land.

Who scorns mere coin and treasure finds release,And passes all his numbered days in peace.

Who gives himself entirely to God’s lawNo wealth nor hardship from that faith can draw.

He fears no man enough to bend from right;No hidden evil clouds his inward sight.

By this same sign he proves his virtue clear:He trades not faith for profit drawing near.”

Said Anooshirvan, “Which is the royal wayThat leads us toward the good from day to day?”

He answered, “Wisdom’s road, beyond dispute,Surpasses every branch, and root, and fruit.

A kindly disposition also givesA man true honor every day he lives.

Of all good traits, the strongest, I declare,Is being content with one’s appointed share.

The sweetest comfort in our toil and careIs hope, which guards the heart against despair.

Of all these things, I find toil hardest borne:Its endless striving leaves a person worn.”

The Shah asked, “How may men achieve true worth?”“By shunning baseness, true to noble birth,

And seeking good in both worlds till the end,With deeds that neither shame nor harm attend.”

“What sage is best?” the king went on to ask.“One mild of voice, whose kindness wears no mask.

He seeks no greatness save through wisdom’s art,Which far exceeds mere skill within the heart.”

The Shah said, “Which accomplishment is best,By which aspirants rise above the rest?”

He answered, “Knowledge, for the sage is greatAmong the great and stands above estate.

He does not clutch at treasure as his aim,Nor bind himself to toil for hollow fame.”

The Shah asked, “Who is our most harmful foe,And seeks to lay our strength and wisdom low?”

He answered, “Evil deeds assail the soul,And rob both mind and wisdom of control.”

The righteous judge then asked, “Which has more worth:Acquired learning, or the gifts of birth?”

The sage replied, “Let learning be your guide;Its worth exceeds what birth alone supplied.

By learning is the soul adorned and wise;A claim of noble birth is swift to rise.

Without sound learning, noble birth is weak;A healthy soul needs more than words men speak.”

“How may the mind be polished, cleansed, and bright?What gifts adorn the body in men’s sight?”

He said, “Now hear my answer to the end;Recall these words, and let your mind attend.

Since wisdom is itself God’s robe of grace,No evil thought can touch its guarded place.

So one accomplished, yet conceited still,Deserves no credit for his practiced skill.

No wise man scorns the modest and the kind;Their gentle deeds reveal a worthy mind.

Though sages join high birth with generous hand,With knowledge, conduct, justice, firm command,

Their greatness, rank, and uprightness will fallIf vicious nature rules beneath them all.”

The Shah inquired, “O learned man, declare:Does greatness come from toil or Fortune’s care?

Does any king gain crown and throne by deed,Or does good fortune grant the royal seed?”

He answered, “Toil and Fortune both combine,Like mates whose joined strength makes a ruler shine.

They join like soul and body, one revealed,The other living inward and concealed.

The body is man’s instrument for toil,When wakeful fortune rises from the soil.

Yet travail cannot make a great man riseUnless good fortune guides him toward the skies.

The world is wind and dreams that will not stay;Its passing visions fade and fall away.

When one awakes, the dream is soon withdrawn,Whether it brought delight or grief at dawn.”

A question stirred within the royal breast;The Shah asked, “Whom do people praise the best?”

He answered, “He who ornaments the throne,Whose strength from fortune is securely known,

If he acts justly and earns good report,His deeds and words will prosper in the court.”

The Shah said, “Who is sorrowful and poor,Luckless, his labor fruitless, insecure?”

The sage replied, “The beggar steeped in viceWill lose both earth and hope of Paradise.”

“Who is the luckless one,” the king inquired,“For whom our tears and pity are required?”

Bozorgmehr answered, “Learned men brought low,Whose pallor tells the weight of grief they know.”

The Shah asked further, “Who is satisfied?Who has no further wish to be supplied?”

He answered, “He who does not fix his eyeOn revolutions of the turning sky.”

Then Anooshirvan asked, “What man is best?”“The gentle man,” he said, “is truly blessed.”

“But who is gentle? Why,” the Shah pursued,“Do hasty men make hearts lament and brood?”

He answered, “One who shuns reproach and blame,And bars the strife that sets men’s hearts aflame.

That man has modesty and gentle grace,With wisdom, patience, counsel in their place.”

The famed king asked him, “Who has greatest hopeAmong mankind, and strongest will to cope?”

“The most industrious,” the sage replied,“Whose ears to knowledge stand forever wide.”

The Shah asked, “What of things beyond our sight,Of hidden knowledge, veiled from common light?”

He said, “Much news is told of things unknown;Yet nothing certain in such talk is shown.

They say that dust must be our final bed;Who knows the other world that lies ahead?”

Then Anooshirvan asked, “What makes lands stand?What gives firm strength to throne and borderland?”

He answered, “Justice, wisely fortified,Establishes a land in peace and pride.”

Then Anooshirvan asked, “Now tell me plain:Who is most prudent, subtle in his brain?

Who wins approval everywhere he goes,As skill through passing years more brightly shows?”

He answered, “An old sage with patient eye,Made wise by all the years that have passed by.”

Said Anooshirvan, “Who is the happy man,Who lives upright and glad through all his span?”

He answered, “One who lives with little fear,And has sufficient wealth from year to year.”

The Shah asked, “Who most merits worthy praise,And wins approval through his acts and ways?”

He answered, “He who hides his need, and curbsThe baleful passions that the soul disturbs:

Shame, envy, greed, revenge; each inward foe;Who conquers them wins honor high and low.”

The Shah asked, “Who can best endure distress,And meet adversity with steadfastness?”

He said, “The man whose hopes have taken flight,Yet whose face shines as though with sunlight bright;

Or else the man with little time to live,Who still begins vast tasks with all to give.”

The Shah said, “Who has grief so deeply castThat life itself seems too much care to last?”

He said, “The man whose fortune falls away,Whose hopes desert him in that bitter day.”

The exalted king asked, “Whose heart is sore,And set in sorrow at its inward core?”

The sage replied, “The man who is not wise,And wealthy childless men beneath the skies.”

“Whose heart,” the Shah asked, “bends beneath distress,Through trouble, grief, and harsh calamity’s press?”

He answered, “Upright men of knowledge yieldWhen foolish rulers dominate the field.”

The Shah said, “Who is fullest of despair,Though power and high repute are his to bear?”

He said, “The man whose great designs go wrong,Though he has wealth and means, and stands so strong.”

Shah Anooshirvan asked, “Foresighted guide,Who lives without renown, set far aside,

Yet still deserves the wise man’s love and grace,And pardon freely granted in each place?”

He answered, “One whose many faults are grave,A helpless man, to want and need a slave.”

The Shah asked, “Who regrets the days gone by,When death draws near and he must surely die?”

He said, “The great king on his dying day,When death’s black cap descends and seals his way,

Repents with terror-stricken heart and mindOf thankless years toward God he leaves behind.

And one who labored over distant landsFor thankless men who scorned his faithful hands.”

The Shah said, “Sage in whom all gifts combine,Do you know anything of worth divine

That profits heart and body while it staysBeloved by all throughout their living days?”

He answered, “Health; the heart in health will chooseIts share of joy and dread that health to lose.

But when life fails through sickness and through pain,The body’s one desire is health to gain.”

The Shah asked, “Once the wish for health is met,What further longing does the heart beget?”

He said, “When men stand high and free from need,The heart’s desires give rise to thought and deed.

When health and means suffice, the heart is freeTo seek the pleasures it would wish to see.”

The Shah then asked his guide, “What is the heart’sChief care among its deepest inward parts?”

The sage replied, “There are three cares to nameFor one who asks about the heart’s true flame:

First, fear about the evil coming day,Lest sudden harm should come and bar his way;

Next, fear of treachery from a seeming friend,Who seeks one’s brain and blood before the end;

And third, fear of a great unjust king’s will,Who cannot judge the good apart from ill.

How happy is the man who has obtainedA prudent friend, by wisdom well sustained.

A thriving world and one great king made just;No greater gifts can heaven’s care entrust.”

The Shah next asked of faith and right, the meansThat banish fraud and falsehood from all scenes.

He answered, “Turn, O Shah, to those whose mindThrough life and death to God remains inclined.

Such men recoil from guile and Div-born sin,In awe of God, whose laws they live within.

They heed the Master of the world; their creedThey will not sell for profit or for greed.”

The Shah then asked concerning those who rule:“What virtues form the worthy monarch’s school?

Which king is worthy of the crown and throne,And fit by right to make the realm his own?”

He answered, “One both just and truly wise,With counsel, modesty, and watchful eyes.”

The Shah then asked about old friends, the kindWho share our speech and ear, one heart, one mind.

He answered, “Noble hearts give friends their due,Both generous and just in all they do.

They wish no friend distress for others’ sake,But share the burden when his fortunes break.”

The Shah asked, “Who has friends whose love runs deep,As close as blood and skin, a bond they keep?”

He said, “The man whose friends will not depart,Unless their faith should fail within the heart.

A kinder friend, whose deeds are better still,Will share his heart and serve with more goodwill.”

The Shah asked, “Whom do bitter foes beset,Who finds in every man a rival’s threat?”

Bozorgmehr replied, “The insolent and vainDraw curses on themselves and enemies gain.

And one whose speech is harsh, whose face is grim,Who closes hand and heart to those near him.”

Then said the Shah, “Who is the constant friend,Who weeps for severance when bonds must end?”

He said, “A friend who neither fades nor dies,Who neither fears nor yields when troubles rise.”

The Shah asked, “What endures and will not fade?”“The kindness that to worthy friends is paid.

Such kindness from a good friend will not part;Its goodness stays forever with his heart.”

“What has the brightest luster?” asked the king,“And crowns the heads of all, the noblest thing?”

He said, “The sage’s mind, which understandsAnd masters passion with commanding hands.”

The Shah said: “What is wider than the sky,And reaches higher than the heavens high?”

He answered: “First, a just king’s pardoning grace;Next, wisdom deep within the heart’s embrace.”

The Shah asked, “What brings grief beyond the restTo learned men, by wisdom greatly blessed?”

“O great king,” he replied, “do not bestowYour treasure where unholy tempers grow.

To deal with thankless hearts brings toil and pain,Like sun-dried bricks dissolved by falling rain.”

The Shah asked, “What is toil’s most bitter kind,Which drains the wealth a man has sought to find?”

Bozorgmehr replied, “The servant’s bitter partBeneath an evil king will break his heart.

The servant of a king of evil mindBy toil will leave life, wealth, and self behind.”

The Shah asked, “What great wonder have you known,The greatest marvel that the world has shown?”

Bozorgmehr answered, “The revolving skyIs always wonderful to every eye.

You see a mighty ruler, crowned and proud,Exalted even to the darkest cloud,

Yet he cannot discern his left from right,Nor tell his gain from loss by fortune’s light.

Another reads the high stars where they burn,And knows the causes by which heavens turn,

Yet heaven drives him to a narrow place,And evil fortune rules his earthly race.”

“What thing,” the Shah asked, “weighs the soul like lead?”He answered, “Sin, which crushes heart and head.”

The Shah inquired, “Of shameful words and deeds,What foulest act from evil nature breeds?

What greatest shame do all men join to scorn,And brand the deed with scars that must be worn?”

He answered, “Harshness in a king is shame,And persecution of those free from blame;

The rich man’s meanness over food and dress,A miser clutching all he can possess;

Shrill, shameless women; men who rage aloud;And poor men who are insolent and proud;

And falsehood, whether in a king or man,Is ugly, vile, and foul in every plan.”

The Shah asked, “What, as jowshan, can availThe wise, and light the soul when shields would fail?”

He said, “Who strives for good and shuns disgraceShall find no wound, but blessings in its place.

And thanks to God, which he will always pay,Mark the wise holy man upon his way.”

Said Anooshirvan, “What should kings pursue,And what should mighty men refuse to do?

What should we keep or cast aside as wrong?What should we grasp, or speak of, pondering long?”

He answered, “Keep firm mastery of your ire;No honor comes from wrath’s consuming fire.

Then guard your soul; do good while strength will last,And set aside your longing for the past.

Good deeds will make your soul shine clear and bright;Let them restore your spirit to the light.

Sin offers sweetness; yet its taste is vain:Shun sin, whose seeming pleasure ends in pain.”

Thanks to Yazdan who rules the moon and sun:The counsel of the king and sage is done.

This labor weighed upon me; I must ceaseFrom lengthy speech, and give the body peace.