Book E5Hormizd, Son of Anooshirvan

Summer laughed to see the apple red,And mocked its fruit and foliage as it said:

“Those springtime blossoms on your breast once lay;Their scent could steal a sober mind away.

To whom did you your fragrant blossoms trade,And what exchange for springtime bloom was made?

Who gave you emerald leaves and rubies great,That bend your branches with their jeweled weight?

Did Jupiter give you that robe so fine,Its crystal stained with blood-red drops of wine?

Yet I despair; your blossoms, once so bright,Are hidden by this splendor from my sight.”

Sweet Spring, my charmer, where have you withdrawn,And left the garden stripped of all its dawn?

Yet Autumn keeps some fragrance that was yours;I will drink wine while memory endures.

Though Autumn pales, I still will praise its hue,And crown it like Hormizd with splendor new.

Though now my work finds little favor here,When I am dead, its traces will appear.

An aged lord held Herat’s borderland,Much tried in life, with wisdom at command.

His name was Makh, experienced and wise,Whose cheerful face shone bright before men’s eyes.

I asked what record he had kept in thoughtOf Hormizd’s reign and what remembrance brought.

That elder then of Khorasan replied,And opened what the ancient years supplied.

When Hormizd sat upon the royal throne,He praised the God whose power no peer has known.

The Arbiter of Fortune first he named,Then to the silent chiefs his will proclaimed:

“We will make bright the throne and honor stillAll worthy men through deeds of our goodwill.

We will enfold the world beneath our wing,As did our sire, and peace to all will bring.

We will make evildoers fear our might,And ease the oppressed by justice and by right.

If one does ill, we bear it, and forbear,And aid him when he falls in toil and care.

The throne of majesty rests firm and sureOn mercy, justice, bounty, counsel pure.

Know good and evil cannot hide from HimWho made the world; His sight will never dim.

Our crowned forefathers in their passing daysWon through their justice their appointed praise.

They sought mildness, equity, and worth,With valor fit to govern all the earth.

They served the lowly, cherished those of might,And kept ill-wishers trembling in their sight.

In every clime, to act and to command,Power, counsel, rule, and judgment fill our hand.

The pious love the king whom God has crowned;Through royal bounty, joy and wealth abound.

The needy we shall shelter from distress,And with imperial care their sorrows bless;

The rich we also watch with careful eye,Though men who earn their wealth may still rise high.

Conceal no wish from our devoted heart;We will remove the fears that make you start.

You prosperous men, rejoice in crown and throne;Among the great, our luster is our own.

For mercy, justice, bounty dwell in me;Grow kind, and set your hearts from vengeance free.

Those who fear God will meet no evil fate;So seek Him, all, whatever your estate.

Let no wise heart be thankless in its thought;Nor weigh good deeds by recompense they brought.

When you bestow your benefit on men,Do not demand reward from them again.

Keep clear of those whose speech is built on lies;Their pleasing words are only a disguise.

If he is just, think not your king a fool,Nor doubt his understanding of his rule.

A king some call unwise may yet have readThe former Shahs and learned from what they said.

When royal mercy brings your heart relief,Sow no deceit to yield a crop of grief.

Who spurns our counsel throws away the storeOf Fortune’s gifts and opens ruin’s door.

Your Shah’s approval should suffice your need;Resistance is the road where losses breed.

His harsh rebuke is still in kindness meant;Were he your foe, he would not once relent.

Grudge no exertion in the cause of right,Nor take in wrongful wealth a false delight.

When in the world your heart’s desire is won,And all you sought lies gathered in the sun,

Still, when the crown of seventy years is worn,You yield your winnings up and stand forlorn.

Our heart is greatly troubled for the poor;Their hardship is a grief we must endure.

We ask the holy Maker for the timeTo make the poor rejoice in Fortune’s prime.

We will not bring the saintly heart to pain,Nor let the righteous suffer from our reign.

If any man through wealth should seek a throne,And claim a kingly greatness of his own,

We will strike off his head for such a claim;No rival shall dispute our royal name.

In speech and secret thought, in all we do,From first to last, our purpose shall hold true.

May God bestow His blessing on each soul;May heaven’s turning vault fulfill each goal.”

When all the great assembly heard his word,Each man grew thoughtful at the speech he heard.

The wealthy men were filled with inward dread,And tyrants felt their hearts grow scorched and dead.

But sages and the poor grew glad of heart,For justice seemed to take the needy’s part.

Hormizd ruled well until his throne felt sure,And every aim he cherished seemed secure.

Then rage arose; his evil nature woke,And from the path of justice sharply broke.

As he had planned, he turned his hand to slayThe men who served his father in their day.

They had been innocent and glad of heart,And feared no wound from royal fraud or art.

Three scribes of Anooshirvan held high place,Renowned for wisdom, office, rank, and grace.

One old and two still young in strength and years:Izad Gashasp was first among his peers.

Wise Borz-Mehr was learned, prudent, and serene,A scribe of noble bearing, form, and mien.

Mah Azar too was prosperous and wise,A counselor esteemed in royal eyes.

These three as vizirs served, in honor grown,And Anooshirvan had kept them as his own.

Hormizd desired to cast the three aside,For fear that they might rise against his pride.

Without just cause he lifted up his hand,And bound Izad Gashasp by harsh command.

The scribe was cast into the prison’s night,And royal favor vanished from his sight.

The High Mobad grew troubled at the news;His face grew pale, as fear drained all its hues.

The priest was named Zardosht, both good and wise,A just and quiet man in all men’s eyes.

When he heard that Izad Gashasp lay bound,His own heart seemed by piercing arrows found.

A day went by; the captive sat forlorn,Neglected, starved, of every kindness shorn.

No food, no clothing, and no comfort came;His suffering fed the prison’s inward flame.

A friend conveyed his message from that place,And told the troubled priest his wretched case:

“O you who serve as refuge to the lone,Behold me in the Shah’s dark prison thrown.

No servant comes or ventures to my side;My starving body wastes away inside.

Send what is fitting for my present need,And when I die, send linen with all speed.

Send one to stitch the shroud that I shall wear,For death’s cold hand is closing everywhere.”

The High Mobad’s heart was wounded by that word,And grieved at all the suffering he heard.

He answered, “Do not grieve at prison’s chain,While life remains, take heart against your pain.”

Yet when the message left, his heart was torn,And for himself he felt dread newly born.

He thought, “If this hard-hearted Shah should learnI sent relief where prison torches burn,

My life will count for nothing in his sight;The king will turn on me his livid spite.

This wrathful Shah will sentence me to death,And sweep my name from court with one fierce breath.”

His love for that imprisoned scribe was strong;He could not leave his friend to suffer long.

He bade his careful cook with food to go,And carry comfort to the man brought low.

Then on an Arab steed the priest arose,And rode himself toward prison and its woes.

The jailer paled with terror when he sawThe priest approach, and stood in silent awe.

Yet none dared say, “Do not now come inside;The king is young, self-willed, and drunk with pride.”

The aged man, with tears upon his face,Dismounted there and entered that dark place.

He found Izad Gashasp in prison’s gloom;They clasped and wept within that narrow room.

Their lashes seemed like clouds of springtime rain,As each embraced the other in his pain.

They spoke about the evil Shah at length,Until their bitter words had spent their strength.

Then food was spread before those holy men;They said the baj, as was their custom then.

With barsom twigs in hand, they prayed to God,The righteous Judge beyond the tyrant’s rod.

Izad Gashasp spoke softly to his friend,Entrusting him with wishes for his end.

He spoke of hoarded treasure, house, and land,Of mansions, palaces, and wealth in hand.

He said, “O noble man, when you depart,Carry this word from my afflicted heart:

Say to Hormizd, ‘Though you may spurn my claim,Remember Anooshirvan and all his fame.

Think how with toil I served that gracious king,And cherished you beneath my sheltering wing.

For this my recompense is chain and fear,And harsher threats that darken prison here.

On Judgment Day I shall present to GodA guiltless heart oppressed beneath your rod.’”

When Zardosht had returned from prison home,A spy went quickly where the Shah would roam.

He told Hormizd the news in every part;Dark schemes at once took root within his heart.

He showed Izad Gashasp no grace at all,But sent men in to slay him by the wall.

He heard the news about the Mobad too,Yet made no outward sign of what he knew.

He pondered how to bring about the endOf him who dared to aid his captive friend.

He ordered that the cook prepare the fare,And hide the poison in it with great care.

When audience-time had brought the priest to court,He came to render duty and report.

Hormizd said, “Stay and dine with me today;My new cook’s skill deserves a fine display.”

The priest sat down; the board was swiftly spread,His color faded, and his heart felt dread.

He feared that this would prove his final meal;The cooks brought meats arranged with royal zeal.

Hormizd would taste each dish, lest one discernWhat hidden malice in his heart would burn.

But when the poisoned course was carried near,The priest looked, then looked once again in fear.

Suspicion troubled him; he understoodThat death might lurk beneath this show of good.

Hormizd observed him, yet no word was said;He stretched his hand toward that dish of dread.

As royal custom held in former day,When kings bestowed their favor on display,

He touched the food and drew the marrow free,Then held the morsel where the priest could see.

He said, “O honest man, this dish is fine;I had it made for you, that you might dine.

Now open wide your mouth and take this part;Such nourishment should gladden soul and heart.”

The Mobad said, “By life and royal crown,May Fortune never cast your glory down.

I have no hunger now; I must decline;Press me no further; grant this plea of mine.”

Hormizd swore by the sun and moon on high,And by the monarch’s soul beyond the sky:

“You must accept this morsel from my hand,And not frustrate my wish or my command.”

The priest replied, “The king must be obeyed;I have no choice; your will cannot be swayed.”

He ate, then left the board in bitter pain,And hurried home before the poison’s reign.

He told no one about the poisoned food,But spread a robe and lay in grieving mood.

He called for nush-darus from town and store;Yet poison raged within him as before.

It all availed him nothing in his need;He cried to God against the Shah’s dark deed.

The Shah dispatched a trusted man to learnHow deeply poison made the priest’s life burn.

He wished to know if that dark scheme had failed,Or if the hidden venom had prevailed.

When Zardosht saw the envoy, tears ran downHis cheeks; he sent this message to the crown:

“Go, tell Hormizd: Fortune rejects your reign;Your wicked rule no throne will now sustain.

I take my case before the Judge on high;Before His judgment stand both you and I.

No peaceful sleep shall visit you at night;God’s punishment will answer every spite.

I take my leave of you, malignant man;Ill done will bring you ill by heaven’s plan.”

The envoy heard and went with tears away,And bore those words before the Shah that day.

Hormizd repented, writhing at their sound,But saw no cure for that deep grief profound.

Before long, the High Mobad died; all wept,And sorrow through the realm in silence crept.

The priest’s sad death sent anguish through the realm;Grief seized the court and shook the royal helm.

But blood-stained Hormizd felt no fear or dread,Nor feared ill Fortune for the newly dead.

He steeled himself for bloodshed more and more,And opened yet another murderous door.

He made Bahram Azarmihan his tool,And called him in by night through terror’s rule.

Beside the throne he made Bahram kneel low,Then said, “Would you be safe from royal woe?

When sunlight makes the mountain summits gleamLike shining plates of armor in its beam,

Come with the nobles of Iran to standBefore my throne to hear what I command.

I shall inquire what dwells in Barzin’s mind,And ask what kind of friend you there can find.

I ask, ‘Is he God’s servant, pure and true?’Then give the answer I expect of you.

Say, ‘He is evil, both in thought and deed.’Then ask of me whatever you may need.

A handmaid, signet, throne, or crown request;Ask what you will, and I shall grant the best.”

Bahram replied, “I will, and multiplyThis evil hundredfold beneath the sky.”

Thus Hormizd used deceit to weave a snare,And draw Simah Barzin to foul despair.

He was a chief whom Anooshirvan knewAs wise and loyal, steadfast, brave, and true.

When morning’s ivory robe appeared in sight,And Sol in Gemini poured out his light,

King Hormizd sat upon the ivory throne;Above his head the costly crown was shown.

The chiefs of Iran gathered at the gate,And came in ordered ranks before the state.

The chamberlain withdrew the curtain fair,And all the throng approached with courtly care.

First came Bahram Azarmihan in place,With Simah Barzin and the chiefs of grace.

Each took his seat according to his right;The crowd stood waiting in the monarch’s sight.

The monarch questioned Bahram in that hall:“Does Simah Barzin merit wealth at all?

Or does he harbor evil in his heart?The ill-disposed deserve no royal part.”

Bahram discerned the purpose of the king,And knew the grief his questioning would bring.

He thought, “We all must weep for this design;At last my grave will lack both cloth and sign.”

He answered, “Shah, from Simah comes no gain;His deeds have brought this land to grief and pain.

He wrecked Iran; may flesh and skin be flayed,His senseless body in the dust be laid.

His speech is nothing else but lies and spite,And every word breeds enmity and fight.”

When Simah heard his friend attack his name,He answered him with sorrow, shock, and shame:

“My good old friend, do not defame me so,Nor join the Div and make your honor low.

Since you have been my friend, what have you knownOf Ahriman in deeds that I have shown?”

Bahram Azarmihan replied, “The seedYou scattered through the world yields only weed.

You will be first to reap the crop you grew;Black smoke shall be the fire’s appointed hue.

For Anooshirvan summoned us to meet,And made us kneel before his royal seat.

The High Mobad and Bozorgmehr appeared,With Izad Gashasp, just and much revered.

The Shah inquired, ‘Who merits throne and crown?Which son should wear the realm’s supreme renown?

Which one has farr and worth to rule alone,And make the realm and royal fortune known?’

Then all of us arose and made reply:‘This Turkish line should never rule on high.

No man would trust such blood with rule and reign;His mother’s Khan-born nature shows too plain.

He bears his mother’s likeness, form, and air;Her inward nature too he well may share.’

But you declared, ‘Let Hormizd wear the crown,’Its bitter fruit now weighs your spirit down.

For this I testify before the throne,And make your fault before the monarch known.”

At those true words that fell from Bahram’s tongue,Hormizd grew pale, ashamed of what had sprung.

At night he sent them both to prison’s gloom,And gave no sign for two nights of their doom.

The third night, when the moon rose clear and brightAbove the mountains with its silver light,

He sent men to the prison, where they slewThat noble man who once had served him true.

He gained from that no profit but a curse,And grief and infamy grew ever worse.

When honest Simah died, Bahram sent wordTo Hormizd, asking that his plea be heard:

“O Shah whose crown stands over moon and sky,You know what secret burdens I keep by.

Before your father’s throne, through every test,I always sought your good and served you best.

If you will call me to your side, alone,I will reveal a matter still unknown.

Release me now from prison and its chain;Iran will gain; the wise will feel less pain.”

Hormizd received the message and chose oneTrusted to bring Bahram when day was done.

At night the monarch brought him to his seat,And spoke in gentle words, their talk discreet.

He said, “Reveal the counsel you would bring,That may secure my life and throne as king.”

Bahram replied, “A plain black chest is storedWithin your treasury, O royal lord.

Within that case a sealed casket lies;A Persian scroll lies sealed from prying eyes.

On white silk, in your father’s hand, are tracedThe fortunes of the years yet to be faced.”

Hormizd sent orders: “Search the ancient store;Bring me the black chest sealed in days before.”

He read: “For twelve full years shall Hormizd reign,A mighty king, secure from grief and pain.

Then turmoil rises, justice falls away,And tyranny and violence win the day.

From every side his enemies appear,While one like Ahriman awakens fear;

His troops disperse; his foes usurp the crown,Blind both his eyes, and strike the monarch down.”

He read his father’s words, his heart grown sore,Then called Bahram: “What brought you to my door?

What did you seek in bringing me this scroll?To save your head; is that your only goal?”

Bahram replied, “O Turk, your mother’s lineHas given you no better blood than mine.

May sorrow fall on him who made you king,And set the crown upon so base a thing!”

Hormizd now knew that one he sought to killCould never serve him with a loyal will.

He sent Bahram back to the prison’s gloom;The next night, royal orders sealed his doom.

No sage remained to guide him or advise;No Mobad stood to make his judgment wise.

From evil habits greater evils grow;Shun them, and all the grief their seeds will sow.

Remorseful then, he shaped a better life,And turned his heart from tyranny and strife.

Each year, when nights were short, he made his wayTo fair Istakhr, and there would three months stay.

That city’s air was tranquil, bright, and sweet;He scarcely wished to leave that fair retreat.

Three autumn months at Isfahan he spent;Its noble seat and air brought him content.

In winter, Tisfoon was his resting place,Among the troops and counselors of grace.

The Mobadan assembled in his train;In spring he dwelt upon the Arvand plain.

Thus time went by, while terror of the scrollStill held its shadow deep within his soul.

Three watches of the night he spent in prayer,And shed no blood, nor schemed to lay a snare.

No further wrong he did; no evil willMoved in his heart or turned his thoughts to ill.

Whenever night’s blue veil was drawn from sight,And topaz dawn appeared upon the height,

A herald cried, “O men of farr, draw near;Attend the Shah’s command and heed it here:

If tilled land suffers and the sower grieves,Because another’s horse has crushed the sheaves,

If any beast should enter growing grain,Or trespass bring an orchard harm and pain,

Cut off that horse’s ears and tail, I say;And hang the thief who takes the fruit away.”

For three years thus he traveled through the land;The chiefs blessed justice dealt by his own hand.

The Shah had one beloved son, Parviz,Moonlike in face, his heart’s delight and ease.

He bore the name of Khosrow too, and soHis father rarely let the young prince go.

The father never bloomed without the son;Their hearts were bound as moonlight is to sun.

A horseman from Prince Khosrow’s favored trainRode roughshod through a farmer’s standing grain;

The rider laughed: “Complain to whom you will:I serve Parviz! Who cares what crops I kill?”

“Dock tail and ears,” the Shah in wrath decreed,“And give the peasant this disfigured steed!

The rider too shall serve him bound and chained,Until the value of his crop is gained;

From Khosrow’s treasury let gold be weighed,Till every stalk of damage is repaid!

Pay in the field, before the owner’s eyes;Let justice stand where royal judgment lies.”

The prince asked chiefs to plead before the throneThat ears and tail should stay the horse’s own.

But royal wrath remained in firm command;The Shah dismissed the pleas on every hand.

The groom, afraid of what the king might do,Cut ears and tail where ruined grasses grew.

Khosrow then paid the owner what was due,And thus the Shah Hormizd’s decree went through.

Soon after, Hormizd hunted with his train,And all took pleasure on the open plain.

A valiant horseman, captain’s son, drew nearA laden vine whose unripe grapes shone clear.

He bade his servant cut the clusters bare,And take them to his cook with heedless air.

The owner cried, “You did not tend this vine,Nor buy its fruit with treasure, gold, or wine.

Why spoil the fruit of work you never shared?Before the Shah your theft shall be declared.”

The horseman, fearing what the Shah would do,Unfastened then his belt of golden hue.

His gem-set belt, with links of beaten gold,He gave the man, whose wrath was then controlled.

The owner said, “This wrong I now forgive;If that just judge should hear, you would not live.”

So justice spared not even Hormizd’s own;The prince and captain’s son bowed to the throne.

When he had ruled ten righteous years in fame,From every realm the voice of foemen came.

King Saveh crossed Jihun to join the fray,With tabiras, stores, elephants’ array.

Four hundred thousand soldiers filled his force;Their numbers darkened all the army’s course.

Twelve hundred warlike elephants were led;The crowded earth could scarcely bear their tread.

From Talaqan to Herat’s borderland,His troops lay packed like warp and woof in hand;

Toward Marv he led his soldiers on their way;Their dust concealed the earth beneath the day.

King Saveh sent Hormizd a written scroll:“Call up your powers; let caution rule your soul.

Repair the roads and bridges for my train;Prepare provisions all along the plain.

Remember how my sword can strike its blow;Through hill and valley shall my soldiers go.”

When Hormizd read that letter, he turned pale,So vast the force described in threat and tale.

Then Caesar came against him from one side,His legions sweeping through the country wide.

A hundred thousand Romans formed his train,Redoubted horsemen, bold through war’s domain.

The cities Anooshirvan seized before,Whose name still made Rum tremble at the core,

He took again by sword and hard command;Once more they bent beneath his Roman hand.

A force came from the Khazars’ distant side,And blackened all the land in battle-pride.

Their leader was a warrior skilled in war,With troops and treasure gathered by the score.

From Armenia to Ardabil they spread;Their troops filled all the country as they sped.

Then Arab horsemen swept across the plain,A raging sea of spears behind their train.

Abbas and Amr, two youthful horsemen bright,Led them through havoc, pillage, raid, and fight.

They ruined crops and land with ruthless hand,Because Hormizd had taxed their native land.

That army marched and came to Farat’s shore;No grass survived where trampling horsemen tore.

When fortune lowered, news reached Hormizd’s ear;The once-successful Shah grew numb with fear.

He then repented all the sages slain,And mourned the wise he drove from court in pain.

He saw no counselor beside him stand,Yet needed wisdom more than strength of hand.

He summoned all Iranians to his hall,A full assembly gathered at his call.

He told the nobles plainly of the case,And said, “Great peril moves against our race.

A force more vast than any can recallIs marching now on Iran’s realm and wall.”

The frontier lords came forward to advise,And weighed the rising danger with clear eyes:

“O prudent Shah, give heed to what you hear;Your servants warn of dangers drawing near.

You are our wise Shah; we obey your will;The Mobad’s office you alone now fill.

Your scribes and learned Mobadan lie slain;Their deaths have left both faith and law in pain.

Now think what must be done to guard the land,And who can keep Iran beneath your hand.”

Then spoke the Mobad serving as wazir:“O knowledge-seeking Shah, incline your ear.

If Khazar troops come forth in battle might,Our warriors must not delay the fight.

Let us court Rum with overtures of peace,Then tear the Arabs root and branch, nor cease.

King Saveh presses hardest on our state;From him our prospects look more dark with fate.

Our gravest threat comes down through Khorasan;He plans to ravage wealth throughout Iran.

When Turks cross the Jihun to make their raid,Our answer must be war, no move delayed.”

Hormizd, intent on finding counsel right,Said, “How shall we withstand King Saveh’s might?”

The Mobad replied, “Now set troops in line,For armies make a monarch’s glory shine.

Summon the muster-master; let him showHow many men are fit to face the foe.”

The muster-master brought the army’s list,And stood before the Shah, no soldier missed.

The army numbered five score thousand strong,With many footmen in the mounted throng.

The chief priest said, “With these, confront the foe;Against King Saveh let your courage show.

You must act boldly, holding fast to right,And put all fraud and falsehood out of sight.

Thus you will free your subjects from their chain,As fits a king who rules without a stain.

You heard what fell on Goshtasb, overthrown,And Lohrasp too, when fortune’s light had flown.

Great Arjasp, that old Wolf, with Chin’s array,Brought bitter grief to Balkh in that dark day.

Life in that land grew bitter as the grave,Until Esfandiyar came forth to save.

Unless the Shah accepts the counsel shown,The Turks of Chin will make his troubles known.

Though I am older than the king in years,His wisdom far exceeds mine, it appears.”

The king said, “Caesar shall not take the field;The towns he claims I willingly shall yield.

The towns my father captured I restoreTo Caesar’s rule; they shall be mine no more.”

He chose a warrior-scribe, discreet and wise,Who watched the turns of war with practiced eyes.

He sent him to Caesar with this decree:“No Roman cities shall be claimed by me.

That land is yours; but set no foot on ours,If you would keep your greatness and your powers.”

The envoy came before the Roman throneAnd made King Hormizd’s message fully known.

The lord of Rum withdrew and did no harm;No Roman sword brought Iran fresh alarm.

When Caesar had withdrawn, the king preparedTo meet the Khazars, and his anger flared.

Against the Arab chiefs along Farat,He sent a troop to bar each ford and ghat;

Their desert horsemen, checked by sword and spear,Withdrew in haste, and left the borders clear.

He raised a force whose dust obscured the light,And sent it to the Khazars’ land to fight.

Kharrad, a man of farr and just intent,Devout and noble, with the army went.

When into Armenia the soldiers passed,The Khazar troops withdrew before them fast.

They slew full many Khazars as they fled,And took great booty from the land ahead.

When Kharrad’s victory came to royal hand,King Saveh was the last foe still to stand.

So three were turned aside by sword and word;Now Saveh’s challenge waited to be heard.

A servant of the Shah, Nastooh by name,Wise and observant, to his presence came.

He said, “O Shah, be glad; may every handOf ill stay far from you and from your land.

My father, wise Mehran Setad, has stillHis ancient wit, though age has bent his will.

He sits apart with Zand-Avesta near,And seeks no worldly pleasure year by year.

Through age and weakness, worldly wants expire;Yet hidden knowledge still preserves its fire.

One day and night I sat beside the sage,And spoke of Saveh’s troops and warlike rage.

I told of elephants and countless men;My father said, ‘As was foretold back then,

The ancient prophecy is now fulfilled.’I asked, ‘What prophecy has fate now willed?’

He answered, ‘If the Shah should call me near,I will unfold the mystery for his ear.’”

The king commanded one of noble raceTo fetch the elder swiftly from his place.

They bore him on a litter to the court,That ancient man of knowledge and report.

His mind was deep, a treasury of years;Then Hormizd questioned him before his peers:

“What do you know of what the past has kept?”The elder bowed, and through his memories swept.

“O heedful Shah, when Chin’s great ruler sentYour mother here, this was the way it went.

I led eight score brave warriors in that hour,To seek her hand and join her to his power.

Your father, upright king of kings, made plain:‘Seek no slave’s daughter for the royal reign.

Require a daughter of the queen instead;No slave shall share the Sasanian bed.’

I went before the Khan and bowed my head;Five lovely daughters were before me led.

All five seemed fit to grace a monarch’s throne,With gait like pheasants, springtime beauty shown.

They bloomed with color, fragrance, form, and grace;The Khan then sent me to their private place.

I entered that famed court where all were fair,Their faces decked, with roses in their hair.

All wore bright jewels; your mother wore no gem,Yet she alone outshone the rest of them.

She sat there shyly, head and eyes cast low;Her sleeves concealed the face she would not show.

Yet she alone was daughter of the queen;No other bore such bloom, such grace serene.

The queen was Faghfoor’s daughter, high and pure;She gave the child a grace that would endure.

She grieved her child must leave her father’s hall,And pass beyond her kin and country’s call.

Of all those daughters, her alone I chose;I passed the rest, though each had cheeks of rose.

The Khan said, ‘Choose another; all are fair,Each one is noble, beautiful, and rare.’

I answered, ‘Choice is made; I will not stray;To choose anew would shame us all today.’

The Khan then called a Mobad to his side,To read the stars and fortunes of the bride.

The Mobad spoke: ‘You shall hear nothing hereBut truth and good; no evil shall appear.

From her and from the Shah a prince shall rise,A lion among men before all eyes.

Lofty in stature, mighty-limbed and bold,Brave as a lion, generous with gold.

Black-eyed, impetuous, and fierce in ire,He will be king when death has claimed his sire.

His father’s crown and treasure he shall gain;For many years from evil shall refrain.

Thereafter shall a mighty king arise,Leading the Turks beneath triumphant skies.

He will seek Iran and Yemen with his train,And bring the Shah to anger, fear, and pain.

The Shah will fear his high triumphant star,And dread his fortune, shining from afar.

Yet far away there lives a loyal man,A subject born from some heroic clan.

An exalted horseman, true in heart and hand,Tall, lean of frame, a guardian of the land.

Upon his head are crisp black locks like musk;His swarthy skin is dark as evening dusk.

His bones are strong, his nose is large; his willIs fierce and harsh, his temper harder still.

They call him Chubin; from the Parthian lineOf ancient kings his noble blood shall shine;

From Ashk and brave Milad he draws his birth,A leopard fierce to purge the troubled earth.’

The Khan rejoiced past any man, when wordOf this auspicious prophecy was heard.

He gave your father his own fairest flowerOf all his daughters, with a splendid dower.

I took her for the Shah by solemn vow;The Khan with jewels decked her neck and brow.

So much was drawn from treasury and store,Its transport burdened me and many more.

He led his troops down to the river’s side,And placed aboard a boat the royal bride.

With sorrow for his child, he turned away,His heart oppressed by grief throughout that day.

Now I have told my tale before your face;O king of men, seek out that man of grace.

Dispatch your riders; comb each town and vale,For by his hand your cause shall yet prevail.

But tell this thing to neither friend nor foe;Let none beyond your hidden counsel know.”

Even as he spoke, his living spirit fled;The old man bowed, and with that word lay dead.

All folk bewailed him bitterly that day;The king of kings was stunned with grief’s dismay.

The nobles wept; the Shah then spoke aloudBefore the Iranians gathered in a crowd:

“Mehran Setad preserved this ancient tale,And told it now before his breath could fail.

Then, having spoken, he gave God his soul;Let God be thanked, who let him reach this goal.

Had I delayed one hour to bring him here,He would have died and left my heart in fear.

Now search our realm for this appointed one,Whether he be a lord or liegeman’s son.

Seek tirelessly, and do not end the quest,Until this warrior’s name is manifest.”

Then Kharrad spoke, brave son of Barzin’s race:“I know this champion, both in name and face;

It is Bahram, son of Goshnasp, whom you seek,The very warrior of whose signs you speak!

He governs Rey and holds Barda in hand,And guards the northern border of our land.”

The Shah sent Kharrad swiftly on his way,To bring the chieftain without more delay:

“Come secretly from Ardabil, and rideAlone, with no attendants at your side.”

The envoy told him all that Mehran said,And of the triumph promised him ahead.

He called no warriors from his own command,But hurried out from Barda through the land.

That world-aspiring horseman reached the throne,And to the Shah his coming was made known.

When he beheld the king of kings, he bent;The old campaigner hailed his star’s ascent.

The Shah at first sight favored him and knewThe signs Mehran Setad had named were true.

He smiled; his royal countenance grew bright,Then welcomed him and lodged him with delight.

When night cast off its veil of musky shade,The sun shone forth, its golden face displayed.

The frontier lord came proudly through the gate,And all the chiefs made way to mark his state.

The Shah then summoned him and bade him sitAmong the nobles, honored, grave, and fit.

He told how Iran stood in danger’s hour,And what Mehran had said of Saveh’s power.

He asked, “Shall I make peace or choose to fight,And send my troops against King Saveh’s might?”

The warrior answered, “Peace must not be made,When he himself has come with battle’s blade.

If we sue peace while he desires the fray,We show defeat before the whole array.

The foe grows bold when he beholds you weak;A feast ill suits the hour when war should speak.”

Hormizd replied, “What course is left to try?Shall I delay, or march where banners fly?”

He answered, “When the foe acts without right,The omen favors those compelled to fight.

The noble counselor said long ago:‘No match for justice is an unjust foe.’

Then seek the fight against this harmful king;For fire and water share no common spring.

If matters turn against us in the fight,The ancient sky may yet deny our might.

But if you yield your strength without a blow,And give up all you have before the foe,

Will holy God not judge you for that shame?Will heroes spare your honor and your name?

When ten thousand Iranian men lie dead,Will you turn back and waste the blood they shed?

What will the spiteful say of you that day,If you turn back from foes and run away?

When I rain arrows down on Saveh’s train,And make my bow a spring-cloud on the plain,

When iron gorzes, swords, and spears are cast,And battle’s ranks surge roaring through the blast,

If still no glimpse of triumph can be found,And fortune leaves our hearts in darkness bound,

Then we shall yield him cities from our hand,And all we own, as fortunes then demand.

But let us struggle till the sky makes plainWhether it brings us victory or pain.”

The Shah smiled; all the court grew bright at this,And veterans left the presence full of bliss.

They spoke with Bahram, saying, “From this hour,Be modest when you speak before such power.

King Saveh’s troops so densely fill the way,Even ants and gnats would find no path by day.

Who, after such bold words, will dare to standBefore the king and take the troops in hand?”

He answered, “Warriors of illustrious name,By our great Shah’s leave, I will claim that fame.”

Informants brought his answer to the throne,And told the Shah what Bahram had made known.

The king of kings rejoiced when this was heard,And fear of Saveh’s force no longer stirred.

He made Bahram the captain of the fight,And raised his valiant head to royal height.

All warriors who sought glory in the fieldAcclaimed him captain under royal shield.

He came before the king, his girdle tied,Prepared for war, yet steady in his stride.

He said, “By your leave, I shall call the roll,And read the fighting strength of every soul,

To learn who seeks renown and who is slack,Who stands in war and who will turn his back.”

The Shah replied, “You are the leader here;The good and ill of war are yours to steer.”

The chief went to the royal muster-ground,And ordered all the troops to gather round.

He chose among them those of highest name,The crown of chiefs, the hardened men of fame.

He wrote twelve thousand on the fighting roll,Mail-clad, with bargostvan, of tested soul.

All those enrolled were forty years of age;He struck off youth and elder from the page.

Bahram Chubin held supreme command,Renowned in war, exacting, firm of hand.

He named Yalan-sina, fierce in will,To lead the foremost ranks with war’s hard skill.

On battle-days he was to ride ahead,Wheel round his steed, and rouse the troops he led.

He was to cry his lineage through the field,And rouse the warriors till their doubts would yield.

He charged Izad Gashasp, who drew no rein,To guard the camp-stores and the baggage train;

Then Mardanshah, his brother, held the left,Bereft of fear, and in the saddle deft;

While rightward, warlike kinsmen formed their row,Prepared to turn their lances on the foe.

Kanda Gashasp, who riding would not failTo seize the lion by its furious tail,

He placed at the rear to guard the line,A man whose strength in danger still would shine.

Then to the troops the Pahlevan declared:“O ardent chiefs, be disciplined, prepared.

If you would have God’s help against the weightOf this dark work that gathers round our fate,

Then do no harm, inflict no loss or ill,Nor arm yourselves for wrong or cruel will.

When through the night the karnay’s call is heard,Leap up at once, and spur without a word.

Then ride together, all with urgent speed,And raise a tumult, spurring every steed.

With rested horse and man, with strength renewed,Let no dread thought of battle-day intrude.”

When word of all Bahram had planned and wroughtHad reached the king, he gloried in the thought.

He praised the plan and deeds that Bahram showed,And from his treasury the payments flowed.

He gave Bahram the arms from royal stores,And opened every armory’s guarded doors.

Within the city he assembled thenThe finest battle-steeds for chosen men.

He told the captain, “Name, without a pause,Whatever serves the war and royal cause.

You know all kinds of warfare by your art,And Saveh’s stores of arms in every part.

You know what wealth, what soldiers, and what armsThat famous man can bring in war’s alarms.

His Turks will make earth quake upon the dayOf battle, when their banners fill the way.

Yet from the troops you chose a mounted forceOf just twelve thousand, armored man and horse.

I do not know how such a count can standAgainst the force that darkens all the land.

And you chose men of forty years insteadOf youthful swordsmen eager to be led.”

The chief replied, “O courteous Shah, attend;You know the words that ancient kings commend.

When Fortune lends her favor to your side,A little force may conquer far and wide.

By this same token I shall prove my view,If now the Shah will hear my counsel through.

When Kay Kavus in Hamavaran lay,In bonds with countless chiefs shut from the day,

Then Rostam chose twelve thousand horsemen bold,And freed the Shah and peers from prison’s hold.

Again, great Gudarz, Keshvad’s noble son,The head of men whose glory had been won,

Chose twelve thousand armored men to ride,And took revenge for Siavash when he died.

Again, brave Esfandiyar, fierce and strong,Led twelve thousand against Arjasp’s proud throng.

By stratagem he made the dust ariseFrom fort and army underneath the skies.

When any force exceeds this counted might,It grows too large for dash and ordered fight.

The chief who leads too vast a fighting bandWill lose his order as the lines expand.

As for your saying men of forty yearsAre less eager than youths with flashing spears,

At forty, men have learned from trials past;Their courage, tested, holds them firm and fast.

He still remembers bread and salt, the sealOf loyalty that binds the true to steel.

He fears the voice of blame, the loss of name,And stands his ground lest flight should bring him shame.

Nor do his wife and child and household bindA veteran’s spirit or distract his mind.

A youth is fooled by outward show and flame;Where patience should be, rashness stakes its claim.

He has no wife or child, no fields to tend;He cannot weigh the worth of what men spend.

Since wisdom rests on trials men have passed,The young man lacks the judgment years amassed.

If he should conquer in some single fight,He laughs, and lingers in his own delight.

But if another chances to prevail,His foes will see his back and watch him fail.”

The king grew fresh as roses in the spring,And said, “Put on your jowshan; serve your king.

Depart the palace to the riding-ground;Let horse and weapon there with you be found.”

His helm and jowshan came at his command;He mounted, taking up his coiled kamand.

The Shah and all his wazirs then went out,With arrows, clubs, and polo-balls about.

Bahram came, jowshan-clad, in Roman helm;The Shah then blessed the guardian of the realm.

He kissed the earth before the royal seat,His homage to the king of kings complete.

Then came the violet dragon-banner bright,The flag of Rostam, borne in ancient fight.

The Shah bestowed it: “Take it from my hand;A second Rostam rises in the land.”

Bahram then blessed the Shah and took his stand,The glorious banner under his command.

When dawn appeared above the mountain height,And like a shield the sun came into sight,

The chief approached the palace of the king,And bowed before the throne, low worshipping.

He said, “I was a man of no great claim,Yet through your farr have won an honored name.

One favor I request from throne and crown:Send me a trusted man of sound renown.

Let him record each warrior in the fight,Who strikes a foeman down before his sight,

And let their names throughout the world be known,Their fame through his account more widely sown.”

The Shah replied, “Let wise Nastooh attend,To mark what deeds your warriors shall commend.”

He bade him go with Bahram to the field,To write each triumph on the battle-shield.

From Tisfoon all the army marched that day,With Bahram Chubin leading on the way.

A prudent, brave, and dauntless force he led;He watched them like a lion, keen and dread.

When he had gone, the monarch turned aside,And spoke in private with the priest beside.

He said, “On battle’s day this man will glowWith joy; what do you think? I wish to know.”

The Mobad answered, “May your life be long;May you live on, forever hale and strong.

With such a frame and speech, he must attainSuccess, and make a barren world bear grain.

Yet still I fear that he will rise one dayAgainst the lord whose favor paved his way.

How boldly he addressed you to your face,A lion speaking in your royal place.”

Hormizd replied, “Do not let doubt obscureYour judgment, mixing poison with the cure.

If he defeats King Saveh in the fight,The crown and throne would be his proper right.

May he remain as now, so full of grace;Such gifts would suit him in a sovereign’s place.”

The Mobad’s face grew pale; he bit his lip;The king retained that thought within his grip.

After a while he chose a courtier near,A confidant whose words rang true and clear.

He said, “Pursue the Pahlevan today,And tell me all you witness on the way.”

The agent followed swiftly, known to none,A reader of omens under moon and sun.

He often read the omens for the crown,And watched the road for signs that fate laid down.

As Bahram rode out from Tisfoon’s domain,He led his chosen force across the plain.

A seller with a basket came ahead,With sheep heads on its cloth for sale outspread.

A clean cloth lay across the basket’s rim;The seller bore it on in front of him.

The chieftain spurred his horse and lowered his spear,Then raised a sheep’s head high for all those near.

He bore it high before the army’s view,Then cast it down, convinced the sign was true.

He said, “Thus shall I sever Saveh’s head,And cast it where his army’s lines are spread.

So shall I shatter all his gathered pride,And scatter Saveh’s troops on every side.”

The Shah’s emissary read the omen too:“This favorite of fortune will break through.

When he has brought his warlike task to an end,Against the Shah himself his will shall bend.”

He told the Shah, who sank in grief and pain;His verdant leaf grew withered in that strain.

He called a young courtier and sent him fast,To reach the Pahlevan before night passed.

“Go tell the captain of the ranks from me:Remain in camp tonight by my decree.

At dawn turn back and come before me here;I need to speak with you, with no one near.

I shall dismiss all strangers from my sight;New counsel has occurred to me tonight.”

The messenger reached Bahram and conveyedThe royal message from a Shah dismayed.

Bahram replied, “Men do not, wise Shah, callAn army back once marching, horse and all.

To turn us back would be an evil sign,And bring rejoicing to the foeman’s line.

I will return when victory crowns the way;Your realm and diadem will shine that day.”

The messenger returned before the king,And word for word reported everything.

The Shah accepted what the envoy said;The order to return was dropped instead.

At dawn the captain led the troops to ride,And called on God to be their shield and guide.

Toward Rey he led his troops with firm command;No soldier dared do damage to the land.

A woman bore a sack of straw for sale,And hurried through the troops along the trail.

A horseman bought the sack she brought that day,Then rode off with the straw and did not pay.

He rode away. She came in grief and shame,And stood before Bahram to state her claim:

“I brought a sack of straw that should be sold;A horseman took the sack, but paid no gold.

He wore an iron helmet on his head;He took my goods and left,” the woman said.

They searched and found the culprit in the band,And brought him to the chief at his command.

Brave Bahram Chubin met him with a stare:“You thought your theft too small to warrant care?”

Before the chief’s pavilion he was led;They crushed his hands and feet and smashed his head.

A khanjar cleft his body clean in two;Through every unjust heart a shudder flew.

Then from the chief’s pavilion came a cry,To warn the noble captains standing by:

“O noble chiefs, attend the law I give:Who steals a straw shall not be left to live.

No man shall plead for him or bar his doom;My khanjar at his waist shall seal his tomb.

Let every man, with honest payment, buyThe goods he needs to keep himself supplied.”

Bahram resumed his march with ordered train,And moved toward Damaghan across the plain.

The Shah feared Saveh’s elephants and might;And fear of Bahram troubled him by night.

One moonrise night he spoke to Barzin’s son,Kharrad, and said, “Prepare; this must be done.

Go to our enemy with watchful care;Do not sleep; ride as swift as moving air.

Mark all his troops, their number and degree,Their strength, their chiefs, and what their worth may be.

Learn who commands and who the champions are,What men among them shine in fame afar.”

He ordered that a letter of adviceBe written, with rich presents of great price.

He said, “Proceed to Herat; if troops rise,Know Bahram leads the force before your eyes.

Approach him first and speak as I have told;Convey my blessings to that captain bold.

Then tell him, ‘I shall go and lay the bait;Keep hidden who you are, and lie in wait.

If Saveh hears your fame and name declared,His mind will grow suspicious and prepared.

And I will draw him toward your net with art,With fair, extended parley on my part.’”

Kharrad, son of Barzin, made ready then,And left as ordered by the king of men.

He met with Bahram Chubin on the way,And gave the words the Shah bade him relay.

Then onward to King Saveh’s camp he went,Where troops, beasts, wealth, and elephants were pent.

He gained an audience and humbly bowed,And spoke with Saveh, far from all the crowd.

He used each argument and all his artTo draw that army toward Herat’s heart.

When Saveh came and camped beside the stream,The outposts moved beneath the evening gleam.

They marked Bahram Chubin, firm in command,With troops drawn up upon the desert sand.

They hastened back and told King Saveh straight,“A force has reached the plain by Herat’s gate.

That army comes with pomp and proud display;Its forces now have reached us on their way.”

King Saveh, troubled, wondered what to do,Then summoned Hormizd’s envoy into view.

He railed, “You Ahriman of fraud and lies,Did you not fear the doom before your eyes?

You came from that vile Shah to set a snare,And draw me where Iranian troops prepare.

You brought an army here to face my might,And pitched their tents at Herat for the fight.”

Kharrad, son of Barzin, answered then:“The force before you is a few stray men.

Take not its coming as an evil sign;Some frontier lord proceeds by his design.

Perhaps a chief seeks shelter and draws near,Or merchants with their escort now appear.

Who would confront you, lord of so much might,Though mountains turned to seas before the fight?

I will send one to learn their chief’s intent,And why their forces to this place were sent.”

His words pleased Saveh, who at once replied,“In truth, this course is prudent and well tried.

We shall dispatch a scout to learn their name,And whether friend or foe directs their aim.”

Kharrad withdrew into his tent that night,As darkness veiled the mountain peaks from sight.

He made his preparations for the flight,To flee the coming wrath before the light.

At midnight Saveh sent Parmudeh out,His valiant son, to act as prince and scout;

That thoughtful youth rode swiftly on his way,And reached the place where Iran’s army lay.

He sent a Pahlevan ahead to cry:“Who are these warriors camped beneath the sky?

Who are your chiefs? What leader do you claim?Which champion among you bears great fame?

Parmudeh, Saveh’s prince and darling, seeksThe army’s chief, with whom he freely speaks.”

A warrior from Bahram’s army heard,And brought the captain every spoken word.

The captain left the camp-enclosure then;His banner rose above the gathered men.

Parmudeh saw him come, and spurred his horse,And rode in haste along the open course.

He asked, “Why halt? From where have you now fled?Estranged from Pars, you left; or so men said.”

Bahram replied, “God keep such thought away;No vengeance on the Shah directs my way.

From Baghdad I have come at his command,To fight with all the warriors in my band.

When word of Saveh’s army reached the throne,The Shah gave orders I shall now make known:

‘With arrows, gorzes, swords, and spears, attack;Go forth against their force and drive them back.’”

Parmudeh then rode back and told his sire;Then Saveh sought the envoy in his ire.

They told him, “Kharrad fled.” The king replied,“How did that villain find a path outside?

With countless troops around us in the night,How could our watchmen let him slip from sight?”

Then Saveh sent to Bahram with commandA fluent elder from his chosen band.

He said, “Tell that Iranian, ‘Do not stainYour reputation with a course so vain.

You know your king would have you meet your death;He sent you here to draw your final breath.

He bade you bar the road our armies tread;You heeded all the foolish things he said.

For with my troops and elephants in line,I trample mountains if their paths are mine.’”

Bahram Chubin heard the envoy’s word,And smiled at all the hasty talk he heard.

He answered, “If the king desires my death,I serve him with my life and final breath.

I yield whatever pleases him to claim,Though earth should close above my buried name.”

The envoy then returned to Saveh’s side,And told him what the warrior had replied.

Then Saveh said, “Return and ask him whyHe came to fight; what does he seek thereby?

Let him ask what he wants of me; let allHis wishes now be spoken, great or small.”

The envoy went once more across the plain,And spoke to Bahram in his monarch’s strain:

“Reveal the hidden purpose of your quest;My king’s star bids you honor his behest.”

Bahram replied, “Say, ‘If you seek the right,Seek no pretext to justify this fight.

If secret friendship with the Shah you seek,Come as my guest, and safely with me speak.

If peace, not havoc, moves your inward fire,Submit to what the laws of right require:

Lay down your arms, surrender all your gear,And let your troops in humble guise appear.

Then ride to court, submissive at his gate,And kiss the royal threshold of the great;

Our gracious Shah will grant you royal care,And robes of honor fit for you to wear.

If you seek friendship, he will grant you graceAnd greet you as befits your royal place.

But if you come for war, your course has ledTo seas where fierce nahangs fill all with dread.

I shall drive you from Herat in grief and shame;Your chiefs shall mourn the ruin of your name.

May wind and rain assail you on your track;May pits await you as you journey back.

Ill fortune brought you here to meet your doom,And seeks to send your head into the tomb.’”

The envoy turned and hastened on his way,And told the king what Bahram had to say.

King Saveh, hearing Bahram’s bitter speech,Grew wrathful at the man beyond his reach.

That chilling answer set his heart aflame;His cheeks grew hot beneath the weight of shame.

He said, “Tell him, ‘You Div in human guise,No fame or joy could come from your demise.

Your Shah is but a servant at my gate;My lesser men exceed your low estate.

Forsake that cruel Shah, who seeks your head,Whose hands with noble blood are dyed so red!

Join forces with my troops, and by my handReceive the crown and scepter of your land:

I shall bestow Iran upon your brow,If you renounce that faithless master now.

Why die for one whose heart is black with spite,And throw your precious life into the night?’”

That proud king’s envoy came to Bahram’s place,And gave those biting words before his face.

Bahram replied, “Conceal no word I say;Take all my answer back without delay.

Say: ‘I am low, you say; my humble nameAnd lowly standing bring me only shame.

The king of kings was too august to rideIn royal wrath against your swelling pride.

A man as mean as I now takes the field,With troops to make your royal kindred yield.

I shall cut off your head and send the kingA prize too base upon a spear to bring.

For one as low as I to seek your graceWould bring you shame and tarnish your high place.

You shall not see me till we meet in fight,My violet dragon standard in your sight!

That dragon marks your death; its stroke shall shredYour golden helm and cleanly cleave your head.’”

King Saveh’s envoy heard those words of flame,Turned back, and told the king from whom they came.

The Turk king heard the envoy’s words of ire,And vengeance set his heart and head on fire.

He bade the tymbals thunder on the plain,And high-crested elephants lead the train.

The realm grew dark beneath the horses’ tread;The karnay’s cry through earth and heaven spread.

When Bahram heard that hostile force was near,Whose colors swept the plain from front to rear,

In yellow, red, and black in silk displayed,He bade his warriors mount and stand arrayed.

He rode in armor, gorz prepared for fight;Behind him Herat, foes before his sight.

He formed the wings; the troops were made as one,One heart, one body underneath the sun.

The world seemed forged of armor, jowshans, light;The spearpoints shone like stars, so sharp and bright.

King Saveh viewed the field and its array,And saw his foe command the ground that day.

Herat stood at the back of Bahram’s force;Cramped ground denied the king a wider course.

He told the seasoned chiefs who gathered near:“A lying envoy drew our army here.

He tarried till their troops could take commandWithin the city, now beneath their hand.

He left me thorny scrub and narrow ground,A straitened field where all my ranks are bound.”

He ranked his army in that narrow place;The air grew indigo, earth hid its face.

Full forty thousand horsemen held the right,With javelins and spears prepared for fight;

The left held forty thousand, row on row,With bared blades burning to confront the foe;

One hundred thousand held the center line,Where Saveh’s golden throne and banners shine.

Before the front, the elephants stood tall,And blocked the field, a living fortress wall;

While crowded in the rear, the surplus massStood choked and useless in the narrow pass.

King Saveh grieved to see his army’s plight,Confined within a field so cramped and tight.

It seemed that Fortune turned against his reign,And sought to seize his throne upon that plain.

Again from Herat’s plain King Saveh choseA guileful warrior, skilled in fluent prose.

He came before Bahram with formal awe,And bore this message under Saveh’s law:

“The Fortune of the heavens is not your friend;Will you not heed advice before the end?

Make wisdom now your friend; lift inward eyes,And weigh the strength your chosen course defies.

You have found two whose equals on the earthHave never yet been born of royal birth.

They shine like suns that wheel the heavens round,And ever in their jowshans, armed, are found.

The first am I, the world’s true king by right;The next my son Parmudeh, high in might.

My troops outnumber leaves on every tree;No reckoner could number them for me.

My men and beasts outnumber drops of rainThat fall from clouds of spring upon the plain.

My tents, enclosures, stores, and gear defeatThe patient clerk who tallies sheet on sheet.

If you should count my steeds, my men, my lands,And mountain wilds beneath my royal hands,

You would marvel. All kings fit for that nameAre subject to my throne and royal claim.

If seas had life and mountains feet to roam,They could not bear my treasury from home.

Nor arms, nor goods, nor harvests of my toil,Could they remove from all my guarded soil.

The great of earth, except your Shah, acclaimMe king of kings and magnify my name.

Your life as well lies firmly in my hand;This much I know, and you should understand.

If I lead forth my troops in full array,No ant or gnat could find a path that day.

I own a thousand elephants, each oneIn bargostvan; their scent makes horsemen run.

Who comes from Iran or from Turan’s landTo bring more trouble than I can withstand?

From here until I stand at Tisfoon’s gate,My troops shall grow, their numbers no less great.

Some madman must have lured you to this place;You neither love yourself nor know disgrace.

Your eye does not distinguish good from ill;How can such folly suit a wise man’s will?

Cease this contention; come before my throne,And you shall not stand friendless and unknown.

I shall grant office high, my daughter’s hand,A crown, and honor through my royal land.

Beside me you shall hold a high estate,And need no longer serve beneath the great.

When I have slain the Shah in open fight,And gained his crown and throne by sovereign right,

His crown and throne shall pass into your hand,His treasure and the trappings of command.

Then I shall march on Rum, and leave to youThat army and its gold and treasure too.

I speak for your own sake, because your skillIn war has pleased my heart and royal will.

You know how armies form for battle day;Your father held command and knew their way.

My words are not mere courtesy or praise,But pity for the peril of your ways.

You have arrayed your puny force todayAgainst my army; cast such thoughts away.

No further message will be sent to you,If you turn back from what I bid you do.”

The envoy spoke; the chieftain heard him out,Then answered grimly, with no shade of doubt:

“O man of evil mark, no king of worthWins lasting fame through empty boasts on earth.

From all your speech, from opening to the end,On words alone, I see, your hopes depend.

The man whose day is ending seeks renownIn words, not deeds, before his sun goes down.

I heard your idle words with growing dread;My heart grew fearful of the harm ahead.

You say, ‘The Shah shall die, and I shall bringHis realm and throne to you, and Fortune’s spring.’

A chief once said, ‘Drive beggars from their town;They claim elsewhere its lordship and renown.

They boast: “I was the ruler of that realm;Its folk obeyed me, and I held the helm.”’

In this affair, before two suns have fled,I shall send to the Shah your severed head.

Upon a spear the bleeding head shall ride;The Shah shall see the end of all your pride.

As for your daughter, treasure, realm you own,I might have thanked you had your gifts been shown

In friendship, not in schemes against our state,Or plots against the Shah and royal fate.

You might have sent your daughter and your storeFrom your adorned and splendid palace door.

Then I in Iran would have been your friend,Not one who brings your warriors to their end.

My lance has reached your ear; my khanjar’s bladeWill take your head, despite the boasts you made.

When you are gone, your head, your crown, your gold,Your daughter, toil, and treasure I shall hold.

You boast of countless crowns and thrones you claim,Of elephants and horsemen in your name.

A chief once said, ‘The faster runs the hound,The farther from the water he is found.’

The Divs misled your heart and brought you hereTo fight the Shah with neither shame nor fear.

Beneath God’s chastisement your heart shall quakeFor all the evil deeds you undertake.

You say, ‘The greatest crowned kings must kneel,And every city trembles at my heel.

The age bears witness to the realm I claim.’The roads to cities serve all men the same.

Both king and servant freely take the road;The way lies open to the same abode.

But knock upon the city-gate and see:A land of thorns is all your realm shall be.

You speak of pity, as if I were weak,And lacked the valor seasoned warriors seek!

No pity will you find before my spear,Nor boast of armies when my ranks draw near.

Your troops, your court, your elephants, your throne;I count them nothing when my strength is shown.

Though you are king, such falsehoods dim your light;No royal glory shines through such a blight.

I give you, Saveh, two days now to wait;When the world’s luster opens heaven’s gate,

Iran’s whole army shall behold your headRaised on a spear when all your blood is shed.”

The envoy turned, his face a pallid hue;His youthful Fortune aged as he withdrew.

He told King Saveh what he had to say;The monarch’s face turned black with fresh dismay.

Parmudeh said, “Why plead in such despair?Those meager troops deserve no fear or care!”

He reached the entrance of the camp and criedFor bells and gongs and elephants outside.

The kousts resounded, booming deep and loud,Till heaven itself seemed black beneath the cloud.

While that famed youth made ready for the fight,The king feared Bahram and his martial might.

He told his son, “Our chosen warrior, stay;Begin no battle till the break of day.”

Both armies drew apart; the watches spread,While fires burned bright and whispered rumors sped.

Alone within his tent, he sent to callIran’s great sepahbods for counsel, all.

Within his tent he took advice for fight,Until both armies slept beneath the night.

The world lay still for any man to take,Yet Bahram’s warlike thoughts remained awake.

While sleeping in his tent, that lion sawThe Turks advance with battle’s iron law.

His troops were routed; barred from flight or aid,He begged for life, on foot, alone, afraid.

He woke in grief, his noble head oppressed,And passed the dark with pain within his breast.

He told no man the terror of his dream;His heart held sorrow like a hidden stream.

Just then came Kharrad, Barzin’s wary heir,From Turkish camp with words he would declare.

He said, “What confidence is this you show?Behold the snare of Ahriman below.

Do not cast Iran’s brave lives to fate unkind;Treat these great nobles with a prudent mind.

For valor’s sake, have pity on your life;No man has faced the like of such a strife.”

Bahram replied, “In your Gilan, we know,Men traffic fish through summer’s heat and snow;

Your folk know only reeds and waters damp,Unfit to counsel champions in their camp!

You are no man for spear or gorz in war,Nor bow or shaft when battle’s thunders roar.

When sun climbs those dark mountains into sight,I shall show how kings and warriors fight.”

When Sol from Leo rose and whitened air,The karnay sounded through the morning glare.

The battle-cry went up; earth shook belowThe horses’ hoofs as armies faced the foe.

Bahram arrayed his ranks, then mounted high,And grasped a war-worn gorz beneath the sky.

He placed three thousand veterans on the right,All mail-clad warriors of tested might.

An equal force he sent upon the left,Vengeful horsemen, bold and battle-deft.

Izad Gashasp, who rode through rivers, ledThe right, where many spears were lifted red.

Kanda Gashasp, who held the leftward line,Served Azargashasp’s holy fire and shrine.

Yalan-sina supported both with might,A firm reserve prepared to join the fight.

Hamdan Gashasp held firm the center’s ground;His horseshoes fired the reeds with every bound.

With each there stood three thousand, jowshans dressed,Stone-hearted Pahlevans who met each test.

Then proclamation rang across the field:“O golden-crowned chiefs, stand firm; do not yield.

Who flees the fight, though lion should appear,Or leopard block his path and rouse his fear,

By God, I shall behead him, burn his frame,And leave his lifeless body to the flame.”

Two paths of flight lay open in the rear;Both roads he blocked with earthen ramparts sheer:

Ten rash in height he raised them, steep and tight,To bar his own Iranians from all flight.

The royal scribe drew near, aghast and pale:“This madness makes our very courage fail!

Among these troops we are one white hair shownUpon a sable ox, exposed, alone.

No soil, no hill, no stream is seen at all;Turanian swordsmen darken field and wall.”

Bahram cried, furious, “Coward at heart,Your ink and paper are your proper art.

Who bade you count the foemen’s force today,Or measure what the sword will sweep away?”

The scribe sought Kharrad, saying, “In his pride,Bahram has none but Div to be his guide.”

The scribes then sought some path by which to flee,So they need not behold the doom to be.

They feared both Bahram and the king of kings,And bit their lips at what the battle brings.

A steep height rose beside the battlefield;They climbed in fear, to see what it revealed.

“We must observe their ranks,” they said in dread,And watched the helm that crowned Bahram’s proud head.

Then Bahram, when his ranks were set in place,Withdrew from camp and fell upon his face.

Before his God, he cried aloud in dust,“O righteous Judge, whose every doom is just,

If this my conflict is unjust to You,And Saveh’s cause is truer in Your view,

Then calm my heart within this battle’s roar,And grant him triumph over us in war.

But if I toil and strive at Your command,And risk my head in battle as I stand,

Make me and all my troops rejoice in peace;Let warfare’s torment through the whole world cease.”

Still praying loudly, he arose foursquare,His ox-head gorz raised high in morning air.

King Saveh cried, “Begin your spells and art,To cloud Iranian eyes and quell each heart.

Let no disaster fall upon our own;Let all their courage fail, their ranks be thrown.”

The sorcerers began their spells in air,And hurled wild fire through the murky glare.

A wind arose; a black cloud filled the sky,And rained its arrows on the troops nearby.

Bahram exclaimed, “Chiefs, nobles, men of war,Do not heed spells or fear their empty roar.

Come on in anger. This is nothing trueBut trick and sorcery brought forth for you.

The men who use such means deserve our tears;Stand firm in arms and cast aside your fears.”

The Iranians shouted, heated for the fight,While Saveh watched the field from left to right.

He saw the foe recoil not from his art,But press on harder with courageous heart.

Then Saveh led his troops against their flank,Like wolves on lambs, and shattered rank on rank.

He broke the left and charged against the coreOf Bahram’s army with a mighty roar.

When Bahram saw his soldiers flee the foe,He spurred his steed to strike three warriors low.

He hurled them from their saddles to the ground,Then cried aloud to all the troops around:

“This is the way to fight, this is the mode;Why bend in shame beneath the battle’s load?

No shame before Yazdan, who rules the earth,The chiefs, and nobles of illustrious birth?”

Then like a hungry lion in his might,He wheeled against the enemy’s strong right.

He broke the mighty force before his eyes;Its leader’s banner vanished from the skies.

Then to his army’s center he withdrew,Where stood his generals with their ranks in view.

He said, “A curse upon this stubborn strife;Prolonged contention robs us of our life!

Look out and find in which direction liesA path of safe retreat before our eyes.”

They searched for some escape, but none lay clear;No road would let them leave the fighting here.

Then Bahram said, “An iron wall is reared;The brave will breach the wall the craven feared.

Whoever breaks that wall and wins a wayMay carry life to Iran from this fray.

Set all your hearts on battle; overheadRaise shields, and wield your khanjars as you tread.

If sleepless Fortune pays us for our pains,Our toil shall bring us thrones and sovereign reigns.

Let none despair of God, lest you beholdYour white day blackened and your courage cold.”

King Saveh cried, “Bring elephants ahead,And make the field for foes a road of dread.

Attack in force; drive hard against the foe,And crush their ranks beneath each heavy blow.”

Bahram from far beheld the beasts appear,And grief and anger struck his heart with fear.

He drew his sword and called, “Now string your bows,Your bows of Chakh, to meet these mighty foes.

Put helmets on. By life and royal headOf our great Shah, whose fame is widely spread,

Let every man with bow and shaft in handDraw tight and hold his station where we stand.

Let each man lodge three shafts with deadly blowsWithin a trunk, then turn upon the foes.

Then out with gorzes; press into the fight,And slay your foes beneath victorious light.”

The chieftain strung his bow and set his helm;The steel casque flashed on him who kept the realm.

He made his bow a spring-cloud full of rain,And showered arrows thick across the plain.

The soldiers followed; pointed shafts took flight,And feathered arrows dimmed the stars from sight.

They pierced the beasts’ trunks, and the stricken groundBecame a pool of blood, with slain around.

The elephants, in anguish, turned and fled,And trampled down their own troops as they sped.

The troops of Iran followed close behind;The earth became a Nile no bank confined.

Confusion ruled, and many warriors died;Ill fortune crushed the Turkish army’s pride.

Behind the stricken troops there lay a place,Pleasant, adorned for Saveh’s royal grace.

There, on a golden throne, fierce Saveh stayed,And watched his broken army flee dismayed.

He saw his iron mountain flee in gloom,Heads full of dust, souls marching into doom.

Behind them the stampeding beasts came on,And trampled troops until their hope was gone.

He wept. Why should his army flee the plain?Then mounted his bay Arab in deep pain.

He fled in fear. Bahram pursued his flight,Like a wild elephant in maddened might.

A kamand on his arm, his bow in hand,He shouted to his troops across the land:

“Ill fate has marked them; let your arrows rain!Ride on with swords, and reap them down like grain.

Acquit yourselves as Pahlevans in fight;Let none among you turn his back in flight.”

He reached the hill where Saveh held his state,Where he had sat enthroned before this fate.

He saw him fleeing on his Arab steedAcross the desert at a headlong speed.

He chose a shaft whose point shone clear and keen,Four eagle feathers on its length were seen.

He took his Chakh bow in his practiced hand,And set his thumb against the deer-hide band.

He straightened his left arm and bent his right;The bowstring thundered as the shaft took flight.

It pierced King Saveh’s spine; he toppled down,Headlong to dust, with blood beneath his crown.

The crowned king, from his army swept away,Left bare his golden throne at break of day.

Such deeds the turning sky performs below,Showing no love, nor hate for friend or foe.

Fear most when seated on the loftiest throne;Disaster comes when safety seems your own.

The brave Bahram came on and dragged the deadFace-down through dust, then severed Saveh’s head.

None of the gathered men came to his aid;No one approached him where the king was laid.

When Turks beheld his corpse beside the road,Their frantic wailing shook the world’s abode.

Then Saveh’s son said, “Fate has willed it so;Bahram’s bright fortune lays our army low.”

Multitudes died in straits and broken ways;The elephants crushed men in a bloody maze.

Not one in ten escaped the routed side;Some crushed, some headless, all their glory died.

When nine long spans of that grim day were done,No living foe remained beneath the sun,

Save captives bound and pierced in soul and frame,By grief and shafts, stripped of their former fame.

The road was strewn with armor, helms, and bows,With blades from Hind and bodies of their foes.

Earth was a sea of blood where corpses lay,And riderless steeds wandered far away.

Bahram then searched the slaughtered field with dread,To learn which men of Iran now lay dead.

He said to Kharrad, “Give your aid, and learnWhich of our men will nevermore return.”

Kharrad went through the tents and searched the ground;One pious warrior nowhere could be found.

A chieftain named Bahram, a fearless one,A noble prince in valor matched by none,

Was of Siavash’s line, a warrior knownThroughout Iran for valor of his own.

Half-mad with grief, Kharrad went forth to traceThe warrior’s path through death’s disfigured place.

He moved the slain and wounded forms aside,Yet found no sign of him in battle’s tide.

The army’s captain grieved aloud and cried,“Alas, wise warrior, where do you abide?”

But then the man appeared; his welcome sightUnlocked the captain’s heart to fresh delight.

He brought a ruddy, cat-eyed Turk in tow,Whose angry heart betrayed a sullen glow.

Bahram cried, seeing him, “May dust not beYour bride; may victory keep your spirit free.”

Then to that foul Turk, “Hell-visaged man,Banned from Paradise, declare your clan.

What is your name and birth? Speak what you are;Your mother shall have cause to mourn afar.”

He said, “I am a warlock; I do not dealIn manly arms or strength of sharpened steel.

I aid the sepahbods when troubles grow;My dreams disturb the calmest hearts I know.

I gave you that ill dream to harm your head;I should have sought more potent means instead.

My sorcery has failed; ill fortune tossedMy labor to the wind, and all is lost.

Grant quarter, and you gain in me a friend,Accomplished in all arts from end to end.”

Bahram considered, troubled at the thought:“This man might help us when a war is fought.”

Then said, “What profit had King Saveh gainedFrom this dark dealer, though his magic reigned?

All good descends from God on favored men.”He ordered that they slay the warlock then.

They killed the man as Bahram had decreed;His lifeless form could do no further deed.

Bahram stood up and said, “O Judge of all,From You come triumph, glory, rise, and fall.

High place and diadems beneath the sky,Distress and triumph come from You on high.

Blest is the man who walks Your righteous way!”The chief scribe came with praise for him that day.

He said, “Fereydoon never saw your peer,Nor Bahram, nor Anooshirvan, far or near.

O mighty Pahlevan, in you combineA lion’s courage, counsel, and design.

May no calamity draw near your breath;Through you Iran’s towns live secure from death.

The Pahlevans all serve you, and your shieldKeeps every man from harm upon the field.

A chieftain born of chieftains, honored, great,Blessed is your mother for her happy fate.

Your birth is blessed, and blessed the steps you take;Farr, wisdom, fortune follow in your wake.”

Then all the Shah’s great Pahlevans arose;The gathered nobles went to their repose.

When night had curled its locks and veiled the sky,And sleep had closed the world’s exhausted eye,

The tabira grew still; rest held the field,While heaven’s turning wheel its course revealed.

Through deepest night the wheel pursued its way,Until the golden vessel rose with day.

Then men awoke as sleep released its hold;The captain summoned all his comrades bold.

He said, “Behead the chiefs among the slain,The bold war-Pahlevans of Turan’s plain.

Each leader of the folk and captain deadShall have his banner flaunting near his head.

Set flags behind the heads of those who woreThe diadems of warriors before.”

He gathered mules to bear the heads away,And took them from the field where corpses lay.

Then called a scribe and spoke at length of all:The countless troops, the battle’s rise and fall,

The movements, chances, stratagems of war,And all the toil and hardship that he bore.

He told of warfare waged by Iran’s men,And how no horseman loosed his belt till then.

When he had written to the Shah, he choseA courier from the troops to bear his prose.

He set King Saveh’s head upon a spear,A sign of victory made stark and clear.

He bade them bear that monarch’s standard too,And heads of chiefs from Chin and Turan’s crew.

On beasts of burden all were borne away,To reach the Shah with speed and no delay.

The prisoners and every captured thingHe kept in Herat for the world’s great king;

While chosen riders rode with watchful sight,To guard the grisly trophies day and night.

They were to seek the Shah’s express commandTo march against Prince Parmudeh’s own band.

A guide rode out before them on the road;The Pahlevans rode with their grisly load.

They hastened, longing soon to reach the king,And greetings from Bahram and chiefs to bring.

The Turks withdrew, bereft of arms and steed,With neither gear nor baggage for their need.

Chin’s men and Turan’s horsemen turned away,Back to Turan in grief and deep dismay.

When tidings reached Parmudeh, low he bowedHis stricken head, and wept before the crowd.

A grievous wail rose from the Turkish side;That bitter day saw every hope denied.

Their heads were filled with dust, their eyes with tears;None ate or slept amid those stricken peers.

He called his warriors, weeping in despair:“Why did our countless troops so poorly fare?

How could they fail upon the battle-day?”A counselor replied in grief this way:

“We thought the foe was weak, yet none in fightCan match Bahram in courage or in might.

For every hundred warriors we could show,He had not even one to meet the blow.

Not one among his troops received a scar;God raised him high and blessed his rising star.

I could say more, but you have heard enough.”Parmudeh brooded, sullen, dark, and rough.

Within his wounded heart new anger burned,And he once more to thoughts of battle turned.

A hundred thousand fighting men remained,Renowned and battle-hardened, fully trained.

He struck his camp; his columns took the roadTo Jihun’s bank, where its broad waters flowed.

Within Avaza’s fort he barred the gate,And in that stronghold nursed his burning hate.

Meanwhile Bahram’s letter reached the throneOf Shah Hormizd, to make his triumph known.

Hormizd sat with his nobles in the hall,And spoke his anxious thoughts before them all:

“For two whole weeks we have received no wordOf Bahram’s deeds; no tidings have been heard.

What counsel have you? What should we decide?”Just then the chamberlain came to his side.

He passed the gate and cried before the crowd:“May Shah Hormizd rejoice, serene and proud!

Bahram Chubin has triumphed in the fight,And Saveh’s fall has crowned Iran with light.”

The Shah called Bahram’s envoy to the throne,And seated him above the chiefs well known.

He asked of Bahram’s health, and how they fared,The battle-proven men whom war had spared.

The envoy said, “Exalted Shah, the dayWent as you wished; may joy attend your way.

Your enemy’s bright fortune now is dead;His crown has fallen from his royal head.

King Saveh’s head is raised before your gate;His younger son has shared his father’s fate.

His father called him Faghfoor; both appearBefore your gate, each raised upon a spear.”

The king rose quickly, bowed, and, standing, raisedHis voice to God, and thus the Maker praised:

“O righteous Guide, who shaped the moon and sun,You have destroyed our foes and victory won.

Great was my wretchedness and my despairWhen that foe rushed upon us unaware.

No chieftain and no force achieved this deed;God’s goodness came to help His slave in need.”

From treasures left him by his father’s care,He brought a hundred thousand coins to share.

One third he gave in largess to the poor,And much to servants, loyal, tried, and sure.

One third went to the fire-temples and priests,To keep their holy rites and solemn feasts.

For Nowruz and for Sadeh, he decreedThe priests should have the funds their rites would need.

With what remained, men mended every way,Restoring ruined stations from decay.

They strengthened desert ways and resting-sites,Made travel safe through days and hostile nights.

Four years of tribute he remitted thenTo crowned rulers and the poorest men.

Then letters, sealed, to all the nobles sped:“Bahram has struck our foe; our fear has fled.

King Saveh’s head was severed in the fray;The world has seen his triumph in our day.”

The Shah spent two full weeks in prayer and praise;Then when the world’s light opened brighter days,

He called the envoy back before the throne,And wrote to make his royal favor known.

He raised Bahram to honor in the state,And sent rich gifts befitting his great fate:

A silver throne, gold sandals, rich brocade,And royal treasures, gleaming, gold-inlaid.

From Heytal to the river’s mighty flow,He granted Bahram all the lands below.

He bade, “Divide the spoil with judgment fair,And give each warrior his rightful share.

But Saveh’s private wealth belongs to court;Send every piece with guards and strong escort.

Then march on Parmudeh without delay;Let him not grow in power while you stay.”

Hormizd sent gifts to all Iranian men,Confirmed by letters from the royal pen.

They gave the messenger a robe of state,Then called for noble steeds before the gate.

When Bahram’s envoy reached him, and he learnedThe Shah’s reply, with pride and joy he burned.

He gave the troops much booty from the field,Except the royal share he had to yield.

He sent that wealth with horsemen of renown,Who bore it safely to the royal town.

They bore it all to court by the royal way,While Bahram and his army sought a new fray.

When news came Bahram sought him as a foe,Parmudeh fled to ward the coming blow;

Within Avaza’s hold, in chambers deep,He stored his gold and barred the mountain keep.

Then, crossing Jihun, he led out his force,And toward the field of battle took his course.

Both armies halted, ready for the fray,Two stages out from Balkh along the way.

Between the armies two farsangs of groundLay fit for war, where death and fame are found.

Next day brave Bahram rode abroad to scanParmudeh’s troops and judge each fighting man.

He chose a height above the level land,And mounted all his troops at his command.

Parmudeh saw them fill the desert’s face,With Bahram at their head in warlike grace.

He marveled at his stature and his frame,And on his lips was God’s oft-spoken name.

He groaned in grief: “A lion leads this foe;Yet few the warriors in his ranks, I know.

Their leader is a reckless man of might;Beneath him earth will redden in the fight.

At night we shall attack and drive them back,And banish terror from the army’s track.”

Returning to his camp, he planned the fray,And praised the steeds in that small foe’s array.

“Their troops are few, yet excellent their steeds;Their warriors match the chief whom valor leads.

Bahram Chubin has a heart like flame;To him, spears, thorns, and weeds are all the same.

He conquered Saveh; triumph makes him brash,And blood has made him drunk and quick to clash.

With God to aid me, vengeance I shall takeUpon that mountain for my father’s sake.”

When Bahram marched to crush the Turkish might,A star-seer warned him of the hour to fight:

“On Wednesday, draw no weapon from its sheath;Ill-omened battle yields a bitter wreath.”

Between both camps there lay a garden fair,Beside the field, in pleasant morning air;

When Wednesday dawned, he sought that shady space:“Let wine and harp make glad this peaceful place!”

They spread fine carpets and prepared a feast,With wine and food, while songs and joy increased.

He feasted in the garden without fear,While battle’s shadow still was drawing near.

When one watch of dark night had passed away,The outposts came to where Parmudeh lay.

They said, “Bahram is feasting in the close.”Parmudeh’s anger like a night-wind rose.

He chose six thousand horsemen, brave in fight,With swords and spears, but not a lamp for light.

He sent them out to ring the garden wall,And hold the ground about it, one and all.

When Bahram learned the purpose of their raid,He called Yalan-sina and sought his aid:

“O chief, break through this wall and clear our way,Before the Turks close in and win the day.”

Brave Bahram mounted with Gashasp again,Accompanied by tested fighting men;

They poured out through the breach to meet the foe,And dealt the raiding Turks a crushing blow.

At garden-gate the karnays raised their cry;The chieftain charged as battle thundered high.

They quickly made a second breach and came,And struck the foe amid the night’s dark flame.

Bahram, half-drunk, with dart within his hand,Assailed them fiercely on the broken land.

Few men escaped him as he cleared the field;Though half-drunk, still his courage would not yield.

As smiths’ hard hammers ring on tempered steel,So rang the blows beneath the turning wheel.

From garden wall to where Parmudeh stayed,Along the road the headless dead were laid.

When Bahram had returned into his place,He planned a night attack with iron face.

Past midnight he armed all his men and ledHis forces where the dark its mantle spread.

Among the Turks no scout beheld his way;No watcher saw him till the horns’ wild bray.

When he had reached the ground, the karnays cried;The warrior Turks awoke on every side.

From each wing tabiras and shouting rose;Their clamor filled the hearing of their foes.

Amid the spears that crowded all the ground,No man could tell what comrades stood around.

Iranian khanjars flashed with fiery light,And seemed to set the earth and air alight.

Of all those valiant Turks but few remained;The stones turned coral-red where blood had rained.

Their leader fled like dust, his mouth gone dry,His lips turned blue beneath the darkened sky.

So passed the night until the dawn drew breath,And somber darkness drew its skirts from death.

The Iranian chief then overtook the foe,And roared up like a lion from below:

“O runaway, you shame the brave today;You are no man of battle; ride away.

It fits you still to suck your mother’s milk,Not wear a jowshan or a robe of silk.”

The prince replied, “Fierce lion, how long stillWill you pursue this slaughter with such will?

Nahang and desert leopard sated grow;Is there no end to blood you cause to flow?

You struck King Saveh’s head from off its place,A man whose farr the circling skies embrace.

You slaughtered troops; the sun and moon looked onIn pity for the lives that now are gone.

I am the remnant of my father’s reign;Regard me now as one already slain.

Both Turk and Iranian are born to die;No birth beneath this heaven can pass death by.

I flee, you follow, yet you cannot takeMy life until its destined hour shall wake.

If sword in hand I turn against your might,One of us may be slain in single fight.

Do not be hasty, hot of head, or stern;A noble chief from such extremes should turn.

I shall go to my tent and write the king,And seek the safety that his grace may bring.

If he accepts me and will grant me grace,I shall serve his court and yield my royal place.

Put war and strife away. You came to fight;Now feast with goodwill after battle’s night.”

Bahram, on hearing, turned his force away,Agreeing to the royal course that day.

When all his troops had rested, Bahram wentTo where Parmudeh’s army pitched its tent.

They cut the chieftains’ heads from every side,And heaped them mountain-high where warriors died.

The warriors, assembled on the plain,Named it Bahram’s Mound above the slain.

They gathered weapons scattered on the ground,And brought the captured gear beside the mound.

Bahram then wrote the Shah of all the fight,Parmudeh’s army and its broken might.

He told what he had suffered in the fray,From Turks and their proud monarch on that day.

He wrote that from the field Parmudeh fled,And in Avaza’s fortress hid his head.

Parmudeh shut the fortress gate in fear,And brooded on the danger drawing near.

The troops surrounded all the fortress ground,But no means of attack could yet be found.

Bahram said, “Better war than long delay;To linger at this task is not the way.”

He bade Yalan-sina choose from the fieldThree thousand horsemen armed with sword and shield.

Izad Gashasp led, at the chief’s behest,Four thousand warriors, battle-tried, the best.

“Behead all found; let blood flow far and wide,A river that may draw the king outside.”

Bahram before the fortress held his ground,Three days encamped with warriors ringed around.

At sunrise on the fourth, he sent a callTo Prince Parmudeh, sheltered by the wall:

“O prince of Turan’s marches, why now chooseThis mountain hold, your liberty to lose?

Where now is Saveh’s quest for boundless power,His wealth and all the splendor of his hour?

Where are his elephants in armor bright,His noble chiefs, his spells and magic might?

All Turkdom once seemed small beneath your hand;Your father had no peer in any land.

Now woman-like, you hide within this place,With tear-stained eyes and terror on your face.

Unbar the gate and ask for grace today;Before the Shah I shall your plea convey.

Send down your treasures and your hoarded gold,From fortress towers and chambers of the hold.

If you would hoard your gold, give up your reign;A king regards mere coins with proud disdain.

For you I shall petition at the court;As Iran’s champion, I shall lend support.

I shall make you chief above the chiefs in name,And raise you higher than your proudest aim.

If some concealed design may ease your plight,And turn your dark adversity to light,

Confide in me, since matters stand this way;Hold back no longer; cast no hope away.

But if companions still remain for fight,With treasure, gold, and troops of gathered might,

Then beat the tabira; let vengeance ride;With wealth enough, fresh troops can be supplied.”

The envoy came and spoke the message true;Parmudeh heard and answered what was due:

“Go say to him: ‘Search not the world’s deep scheme;Your sudden triumph makes your boldness gleam!

Your victory has borne its fruit today,Yet do not boast; the old world has its way.

The turning sky’s deep purpose no one knows;It veils the face behind the acts it shows.

Mock not the fallen, sepahbod; I tooHad elephants and tabiras on view.

I too had soldiers massed across the plain;Trust not the sky, well schooled in fraud and pain.

My sire was mighty, great in power and fame;You faced him when to wage his war he came.

The earth lay bound beneath his horse’s tread,And heaven seemed to circle where he led.

Yet still he sought what was not his by right,And would not turn aside from wrongful fight.

His prowess now lies overlaid by shame,And enemies from far deride his name.

You spoke of troops whose numbers seemed to vieWith beams of sun and moon across the sky.

Those steeds and elephants, like seeds, were groundWithin the mill as Fortune turned it round.

All this will pass, and you shall pass with all;Your star will lose its luster at your fall.

Fear Fortune’s sharp revenge, for she may throwHer bane into the healing draft you know.

When one makes human blood his wanton trade,And strikes the innocent with reckless blade,

His own shall flow as flowed the blood he shed,Till in the dust he joins the silent dead.

Though you may wreck the country of the Turks,In time revenge will rise from where it lurks.

I fear to come before you, lest I die;You serve; a king by birth and rank am I.

Shall I abase myself before a thrall?A lone attack my friends would madness call.

Yet in extremity there is no stainTo seek the Shah’s protection and remain:

Procure your monarch’s sealed and sworn decree,A pledge of safe-conduct to rescue me;

Then take the fortress and its hoarded gold,And rule the fertile lands that I enroll.’”

The envoy came and told him what he heard,And Bahram’s heart was gladdened by the word.

They wrote a letter, pressed on it the seal,And sent it to Shah Hormizd in appeal.

“The Turkish Khan now pleads to gain your grace;Bahram has hemmed him in a narrow place.

A sealed safe-conduct he requests today;Such news calls for a feast without delay:

For Saveh’s heir has bowed his head so low,From height of glory into grief and woe.”

The letter came; the Shah, in spirits high,Raised up his royal crown toward the sky.

He summoned all Iranians to his side,And ranked them near the throne in ordered pride;

He bade them read the letter in his hall,While on the scribe showers of rubies fall.

“Three watches long I praise my God at night;The Turkish Khan is subject to our might!

High heaven now has made our crown secure;His vast presumption could not long endure.

He raised his head until it touched the sky,And thought himself the sovereign throned on high.

Yet now this prince, with pride once overblown,Bows to a servant sent out from our throne:

The Turks’ proud lord has laid his glory down,And rendered homage to our ancient crown!

Praise to the Ruler of the sun and moon,The Source of every crown and royal boon.

Praise God in every righteous deed you do,And let no chance for goodness pass from you.”

He called Bahram’s own envoy to his seat,And heard his words with favor, kind and sweet.

He called for gem-set girdle, robe of state,And kingly steed with trappings rich and great.

With every golden buckle jeweled bright,The horse was dressed in royal wealth and light.

He gave the envoy dinars, heap on heap,And precious gifts that royal stewards keep;

A robe of woven gold the courier wore,While horses carried honors to his door.

He summoned then a scribe and bade him writeOn silk a warrant, formal, sealed, and bright:

“Parmudeh Khan shall rest in peace secure;Beneath our royal seal this pledge is sure:

We swear by God, who rules the turning sky,No hand shall harm him as he passes by;

His blood and honor sacred shall remain,Escorted safely across our domain.”

He wrote to Bahram too in words of grace,A letter sweet as heaven’s own embrace:

“Send Prince Parmudeh with his army here;Treat him with honor, free of harm or fear.

The booty taken from his routed train,The spoils you won with valor on the plain,

Send all to court that forms the royal share;The Maker’s aid shall guard you everywhere.

Seek out the foe and take his goods in hand;Burn down his house, but keep and hold the land.

If further troops are needed, they are yours;And wealth shall reach you from the royal stores.

Set down your needs in writing; I will sendWhatever troops you need until war’s end.

Name those Iranians faithful to your side;Their toil shall earn rewards I shall provide.

Your men shall govern marches as their due;A crown and Pahlevanship go to you.”

When the Shah’s letter reached the famous chief,New youth arose and banished age and grief.

The king’s high words amazed him, and he sentTo call the chiefs and envoy to his tent.

He showed the Shah’s rich gifts to every man;They blessed King Hormizd as acclaim began.

He showed the warriors what the Shah had penned;Their shouts made earth itself appear to bend.

He sent the honored warrant to the hold,The royal seal upon its silk and gold.

Parmudeh’s darkened spirit brightened then;He praised the king before his gathered men.

He left his fortress, famous, strong, and high,And gave its wealth to Bahram standing by.

Bahram sent guards to count what lay inside,And list the treasures stored there side by side.

Descending from the hold with haughty stride,The Khan rode down the slope in lofty pride;

He passed the lines in arrogant array,Nor deigned to look where Bahram held his way.

Bahram resented how the Khan rode by,Though he had gained a king, a prize so high.

He sent men after him and had him ledAfoot before the troops, with humbled head.

Parmudeh said, “Once I was raised aboveThe folk, with kingship, majesty, and love.

But now I come a suppliant, brought low,Cast down from glory into shame and woe.

Today you show a harsh and cruel faceIn dragging me before you in disgrace.

Now that I hold the warrant of the king,I go to court beneath his sheltering wing.

Perhaps he will receive me brother-wise,And lighten grief before my wounded eyes.

What more would you demand? My wealth, my throne,And all my goods I gave you as your own.”

At these cold words, Bahram’s fierce eyes caught flame;His fury burst beyond all bounds of shame:

He raised his whip and struck Parmudeh’s head,A wanton stroke that filled the chiefs with dread!

They bound the royal prince without delay,And in a narrow tent he spent the day.

Kharrad, son of Barzin, said in pain,“In Bahram, wisdom does not seem to reign.”

He drew the chief scribe near him and confessedHow Bahram’s temper left his soul distressed:

“He has not one mosquito’s wing of wit;He scorns all men and thinks no counsel fit.

He heeds no man. We must go speak today,And tell him, ‘Wrath will lead your mind astray.

Your temper is your deepest source of shame;It wastes your toil and stains your victor’s name.’”

They went to Bahram, pallid in the face,With counsel on their tongues and measured pace.

They said, “You throw your labor to the air;Let not your head with anger blaze and flare.”

He knew his deed was vile; in shame and dread,He laid a heavy hand upon his head:

Like unbaked brick dissolved in churning tide,His rashness washed away his victor’s pride.

Repentant, he unloosed the captive’s chain,And sought to soothe the prince’s grief and pain.

In great concern he sent a horse arrayedIn golden trappings, for a monarch made.

An Indian sword in golden sheath he sent,Then went himself to soothe the Khan’s lament.

He stayed until the Khan had clasped his beltAnd swung astride a racer, sleek of pelt.

Then Bahram rode beside him on his way,And saw the prince’s face was dark and gray.

When time had come to part, Bahram then said,“You bear a secret grudge within your head.

Yet hide this secret grievance from the king;No honor lies in charges you may bring.”

The Khan replied, “Of Fortune I complain;I leave all judgment to God’s hidden reign.

I am not one who spreads reports abroadOf other men, their deeds, their rank, or fraud.

Yet if your monarch hears no news of this,He is not worthy of his throne and bliss.

The turning sky has bound me to this state;I do not speak of servants’ wrongs or hate.”

At this, Bahram grew pale and writhed within,Yet swallowed down his wrath and held it in.

He said, “This proves the warning wise men give:Sow evil, and its bitter fruit will live.

For time will give you fruit of what you cast,And bitter harvests ripen at the last.

Why did I fill my heart with loyal care,And seek to show you kindness everywhere?

I wrote the Shah and hid your every shame,And softened every fault that bore your name.”

The Khan replied, “That evil time is past;Those former words are wind that cannot last.

Yet insolence belongs to days of strife,And courtesy to peace and settled life.

If war and peace are all the same in deed,Your wisdom offers little in our need.

When leaders think themselves too wise to heedTheir king’s commands, they sow an evil seed.

One ought to walk God’s path and cleanse the heart,And bid the darkness in the soul depart.

It would be well to say no more today;For past ill, like the wind, has passed away.”

Then Bahram smiled: “I thought this would stay hid;I shall not veil in silk the wrong I did.

Speak as you will when you arrive at court;My name will bear no stain from your report.”

The Khan said, “Kings must weigh both good and ill,And judge their true degree with even will.

A king who lets his servants’ crimes take flightIs witless and abandons royal right.

When malcontents afar observe that thing,Allies and kings will judge both slave and king.

They call you reckless, witless, light of head,And say Iran’s own king is poorly led.”

Bahram grew pale; and Kharrad saw his ire,And feared that counsel soon would feed the fire.

He feared that bloodthirsty, wrathful manWould hurl Parmudeh down and end his span.

He said, “O sepahbod, master your wrath;Abandon bitterness and leave this path.

The Khan spoke well; now hear him without blame,For calmer words may quench both hearts’ hot flame.”

Bahram replied, “This man of evil breathWould gladly join his father now in death.”

Parmudeh said, “Do not renew this woe;I lost my father; do not wound me so.

All those in this world who resemble you,With dust-cloud heads and hearts of smoking hue,

Imagine ill, agree with none, and raiseThemselves by craft and cruelty for praise.

You threaten me with Hormizd’s sovereign power;I shall not flee what comes in fate’s own hour.

He is my peer among the great in fame,Not a maligning slave who hates my name.

He is gentle, wise, and high of birth,And mindful of the men of name on earth.

By Hormizd’s soul and head I charge you now:Return at once and cool your angry brow.

Give me no more replies; let speech now cease;Say nothing more, and leave my heart in peace.”

When Bahram heard, he turned with wrathful treadBack to the camp, where anger filled his head.

That proven warrior called the wise to hear:“Kharrad and chief scribe, Mobadan, draw near.

Now write a letter to the world’s great king,And tell him every public, private thing.”

He told the chiefs and Mobadan, “DepartNow to the hold, with diligence and art.

Go like the wind; discover, count, and tellWhat treasures in Avaza’s chambers dwell.”

The scribes set out with fearful hearts that day;From dawn they wrote till daylight passed away.

Until three watches of the night were past,They filled the pages, but the hoard stayed vast.

There was no room to move for precious things,The hoards of ancient ages, wars, and kings.

Spoils of Afrasiab’s era there were stored,And Arjasp’s wealth in treasuries outpoured.

Gold coins and jewels won from sea and mineLay heaped there by the favoring sky’s design.

Such were the treasures in Avaza’s hold,World-famous, measureless in gems and gold.

Among the goods of Siavash came to lightA belt whose golden clasps were jeweled bright;

Two drop-pearl earrings, such as none on earthHad ever witnessed of such matchless worth:

Kay Khosrow gave them once to Lohrasp’s hand;Then Lohrasp passed them to Goshtasb’s command.

Then Arjasp took and stored them there unknown;No living man could tell how long they shone.

They made a full account of every prizeStored in the treasuries beneath their eyes.

Yet no astrologer, nor prince acclaimed,Could know the sum of wealth the fortress claimed.

Bahram then sent a scribe, shrewd and aware,Eloquent, mindful, fit for royal care.

He gathered booty from the hold and field,And every prize the war had made them yield.

Among the spoil were earrings rich and rare,An imperial crown fit for a Shah to wear.

A dragon-coronet of beaten gold,Once worn by famed Siavash, they could behold.

Two cloths of Yemen, woven gold and fine,And each weighed seven mans by measured line.

Through fatal pride and arrogance of will,The captain chose to keep that treasure still:

He hid the cloths; no scribe was let to traceThat golden crown or list it in its place!

He ordered Izad Gashasp forth to ride,With one full thousand horsemen at his side.

He asked the Khan for camels for the load;He counted out their burdens for the road.

The Khan rode first, his nobles riding near;The horsemen followed, guarding from the rear.

With troops and treasure, gifts in rich array,The Khan drew near the monarch’s court that day.

The Shah received the news and took his standWith crown on head and gorz within his hand.

He reached the gate and from the porch surveyedWhat honor by the Khan and troops was paid.

He paused to see if they would quit their steeds,While Parmudeh watched Hormizd’s looks and deeds.

Still mounted, with Izad Gashasp beside,The Khan approached with grave, imperial pride;

Lest either monarch should concede the right,King Hormizd took a courser sleek and light:

He rode a coal-black Arab through the gate,To greet the prince in equal royal state.

Beside the Khan he stayed a little space,Within the entrance of the royal place.

The chamberlain reached out and seized his rein;The Khan dismounted there before the train.

By yielding so, exact and self-possessed,He showed the tact by which his suit was blessed.

When he came near the throne, the king, grown kind,Received him, leaving bygone wrongs behind.

He welcomed him with honor near the throne,Repenting all the hatred he had shown.

They lodged him in a palace bright and fair,With all things needful ordered for his care.

A scribe was charged to lodge his retinueClose by, with every honor that was due.

When word of all Parmudeh’s wealth was told,The Shah arranged the keeping of the gold.

Within the square the laden beasts stood rankOn rank, each driver at his camel’s flank.

On the eighth day, the Khan’s long toil had ceased;The Shah commanded court to hold a feast.

When Khan and nobles gathered at the board,They sat before King Hormizd, Iran’s lord.

He bade them bring the camel-burdens near;The nobles gasped to see such wealth appear:

Ten thousand porters labored in arrayTo haul that fortune through the gates that day.

At dawn, when wine refreshed the royal hall,Shah Hormizd took his seat before them all:

Full fifty thousand packs of costly wareWere borne inside from out the palace square;

A hundred vaults were filled with hoarded gold,Amassed from battlefields and keeps of old.

When all the public reckoning was complete,The Shah had garments brought before his seat.

With jeweled earrings and a girdle bright,The clothes were rich with gold and jeweled light.

Then through the banquet hall arose acclaim:“Victorious be the Shah in crown and fame!”

He asked Izad Gashasp, “What say you now?Has Chubin set our crown upon our brow?”

Izad replied, “When Chubin’s wooden strainResounds, the trees will shed their fruit in pain!”

Those covert words aroused the monarch’s dread;Suspicion gathered in his troubled head.

A sturdy camel-courier reached the throneAnd brought the chief scribe’s message, sealed and known.

“May the great Shah forever joyful stand,His crown held in his servant’s heart and hand.

Two fine Yemeni cloths were in the spoil,With ancient treasures of Turanian soil:

A crown of gold, with radiant jewels bright,Which famed Siavash had worn in ancient fight.

From these the chief took treasure for his own,And kept that portion from the royal throne;

He bore the toil of battle; is it strangeThat he should keep some treasure in exchange?”

Hormizd said to Parmudeh, “Tell me trueAll that you saw in this affair and knew.”

The prince confirmed the scribe’s report, and said:“He struck with whip your safe-conduct and my head!”

The haughty Shah grew dark within his court:“Bahram has strayed from right, by your report!

He lifts his head as high as heaven’s height,And dares strike royal blood with lawless spite!

Now shall a monarch’s crown indulge his greed?Does this proud servant claim our royal breed?

His toil is wind; the good he did is lost;His justice turns to wrong at bitter cost.”

He called the Khan and seated him nearby,And feasted him with royal honor high.

They sat till night spread musky tresses wide,And darkness gathered over every side.

The Shah said, “For my sake you suffered so;Here, from my people, you have met with woe.”

He took the Khan’s hand firmly in his own;Parmudeh marveled at the favor shown.

The Shah went on: “Now swear a solemn oath,And let our faith be binding on us both.

When you return, break faith with none of mine,Not me, nor nobles of the Iranian line.”

They swore great oaths by God, whom all revere,And by the lives of chiefs assembled here;

By Him above all greatness, all we know,Who gave both Venus and Jupiter their glow;

By sun and moon, by royal crown and throne,They pledged the faith their solemn words made known;

By Azargashasp’s enduring sacred flame,They bound themselves beneath that solemn name;

By signet-ring and diadem they sworeThe Khan would turn against the Shah no more.

He would not let his heart from Hormizd stray,Nor cause him grief in any deed or way.

That oath complete, the gathered kings arose,And each one sought his couch in night’s repose.

When yellow sun had climbed the mountain crest,The kings awoke from their appointed rest.

The noble Shah prepared a splendid trainOf gold and silver, steeds with jeweled rein,

Rich coronets and girdles worked in gold,With armlets, torques, and earrings manifold.

Arabian horses stood in golden gear,And Indian swords in golden sheaths were near.

He sent them to the Khan, then rode besideHis guest through parting stages, stride for stride.

Two stages, then a portion of a third,He rode, then turned with many a parting word.

When Bahram heard what gifts the Shah had sent,And how the Khan returned in high content,

He rode to meet him with a chosen train,His heart still troubled by remorse and pain.

He stored provisions where the Khan would pass,In town and village, hill and open grass.

Ashamed of all the wrong that he had done,He sought forgiveness from King Saveh’s son.

He greeted him with blessings on his way;The Khan turned from him, nothing more to say.

No coin, provision, slave, or gift he took;He rode as though he would not spare a look.

For three full stages Bahram rode beside;The Khan ignored him with unwavering pride.

Upon the fourth, Parmudeh sent to say:“Turn back; you have endured enough today.”

When Bahram heard that cold, dismissing word,Chagrin and sorrow in his bosom stirred;

He turned his rein toward Balkh in silent dread,While on to Tisfoon all the rumors sped.

There, shamed and sore, he brooded on his deed;Meanwhile the Shah’s resentment gathered speed.

He loathed the blow that brought the Khan disgrace,And spoil seized without royal word or grace.

The king then wrote to Bahram in disdain:“O foul, rebellious Div, corrupt and vain!

Blind arrogance has robbed you of your sense;You mock our majesty with insolence!

You fail to see that God grants all your might,Yet mount the turning heavens in your flight.

Have you forgotten all our toil and strain,The gold and armies lavished on your plain?

You shun the path true Pahlevans maintain,And lift your haughty head in proud disdain!

You turned aside from what my word decreed,And chose instead another path and deed.

Here is the robe of honor fit for you,A gift well matched to everything you do.”

The Shah then sealed the scroll and gave commandTo fetch the emblems of the spinner’s hand:

A distaff, case, and spindle laid with care,With skeins of cotton for his hands to bear;

A woman’s gown, a veil of golden thread,With heavy iron fetters forged in dread.

He chose a courier base in thought and pride,To bear those mocking tokens to his side.

He said, “Present these tokens to his sight,And let my words augment his shameful plight:

‘O faithless slave, you bound the Khan in spite,And in the fall of nobles found delight!

Now from your high command you shall be cast;The season of your prominence is past!’”

The envoy brought the gifts with all due speed,And spoke the message as the Shah decreed.

When Bahram saw the gift the Shah had sent,He bore it silently, in discontent.

He thought, “Is this my recompense todayFor fighting in the Shah’s cause, far away?

This insult was not fashioned by the king;My foes have urged him to this shameful thing.

The Shah commands his subjects as he will;Though he disgrace me, I shall serve him still.

I never thought the spite of foes could steerThe royal judgment of a master’s ear.

Since I left court with but a slender train,All men have seen my hardship and my pain.

If such toil earns this garment of disgrace,Then heaven has withdrawn its former grace.

I will complain to God against the skyThat stripped its love from me and passed me by.”

He called upon the Judge who grants the good,Then took the shameful raiment where he stood.

In woman’s trailing red he sat arrayed,His haughty head beneath a veil displayed;

He took the distaff, and with bitter zestHe spun the raw white cotton to his breast!

He bade his veteran captains gather near,The twelve full thousand who had known no fear;

They thronged the tent, struck speechless and amazed,As on their sepahbod, spinning thread, they gazed!

He said, “The Shah has sent this robe to me;This is his gift, as all of you can see.

The Shah commands; we are his loyal slaves,And love for him is what each true heart craves.

Now speak your minds, you chiefs before my face:What answer shall we give to this disgrace?”

They cried: “O peerless captain of the fight,Is this how royal crowns our toil requite?

If this vile shameful gown be your reward,Then dogs are worthier than Iran’s sword!

Recall the sage at Rey, that ancient seer,Whose heart was filled with wrath at Ardeshir:

‘I turn from priest and Shah with bitter woeWhen he ignores the hardships that I know.’

How can you seek for honor from a manWho grants no honor to the loyal clan?”

He said: “No more! The Shah commands our blade;From him derives the honor we displayed.

We are his servants, pledged to do his will;Whatever gifts he grants, we serve him still.”

They cried: “We shall not bear his yoke again!No more shall Hormizd rule as king of men;

Nor will we follow you, if you remainA cringing servant to a master vain!”

They poured in fury out upon the plain,While Bahram feigned to urge them to refrain.

Two weeks had passed; he left his palace, keenTo ride into the open fields of green.

Before him stood a forest thick with trees,A place for hunting, mirth, and pleasant ease.

A Gur-e-Khar roamed there, an animal fair;No living eye had seen a form so rare.

He followed, holding back his horse’s pace,And would not overheat him in the chase.

Within the woods, a narrow pathway lay;The Gur-e-Khar then went down that narrow way.

When that proud Gur-e-Khar had crossed the lane,Beyond it opened meadowland and plain.

He followed through the heat across the land,His mouth as dry as dust upon the sand.

Bahram observed and rode until his sightBeheld a splendid palace, clear and bright.

The Gur-e-Khar led onward all the way;Izad Gashasp rode after him that day.

To him he gave his fleet steed’s reins and said,“May wisdom ever guard the path you tread.”

He passed the porch alone; no comrade wentBeside him. Izad watched outside, intent.

Behind them, Yalan-sina swiftly came,Upon a warhorse, armed for deeds of fame.

Izad said, “Lion, enter now and learnWhere our chief passed and when he may return.

Our captain, strength of all our troops, is gone;Go seek him in the palace farther on.”

Yalan-sina went on with anxious heart,To find the chief and search each hidden part.

He saw a hall magnificent and wide,No equal known in all Iran beside.

Upon one side a cupola rose high,Its summit hidden in the distant sky.

Beneath it stood a throne of solid gold,Each foot with jewels splendid to behold.

Brocade from Rum lay patterned on the throne,With gems set deep in gold that flashed and shone.

A crowned lady sat in sovereign grace,Tall as a cypress, springtime in her face.

Beside that throne another seat was set,Where Bahram sat, amazed at all he met.

Around them stood fair maidens, petal-cheeked,Like idols that the finest painters seek.

The lady spoke: “Why clouds upon your brow?The crown of kingship waits upon you now!

God grants to you the scepter of this land;The throne of Kayanians rests in your hand!

Gird up your loins, fulfill what fate decreed,Though fleeting is the glory of the deed!”

When Yalan-sina entered, she addressedA handmaid standing near in service dressed:

“Go tell that lion-hearted man,” she said,“He must not enter here; let him instead

Remain beside his comrades; tell him thenThat Bahram soon will be with him again.”

She bade her speak in Bahram’s name, and tellThe waiting man to leave, that all was well.

She sent her servants to his retinue,To bring the warriors’ horses safely through.

They led the mounts to stalls and gathered gear,And counted all the saddles lying near.

The gardener opened wide the garden gate,Obedient to the lady’s mandate.

A serving man came in with barsom sprays,To tend the rite and speak the words of praise.

They spread within the garden such a feastThat wonder seized the greatest and the least.

When all the warriors had eaten bread,They stabled every charger in its shed.

When Bahram turned to leave, he blessed her reign:“May Jupiter beside your crown remain.”

She said, “May victory attend your way;Be patient, wise in counsel, day by day.”

When Bahram left that hall, dark visions spread;His brooding eyes were rimmed with tears of red:

Transformed in countenance, in thought, and speech,His soaring mind reached past all mortal reach!

Again the Gur-e-Khar appeared ahead;The chief pursued it where its pathway led.

Until he cleared the forest’s final side,The Gur-e-Khar still served him as a guide.

He then returned from hunting, homeward bound,Yet told the ranks no word of what was found.

Kharrad asked what vision met his eyes;He gave no answer, lost in dark surmise.

He sought his palace, gloomy and withdrawn,And left the question there to linger on.

Next day, when dawn had silvered every height,And morning filled the world with golden light,

Bahram spread carpets of Chinese brocade,As if the vault of heaven were displayed.

Throughout the palace, golden seats were placed,With gold-embroidered cushions richly graced.

They reared an ivory throne within the hall,Where sat the captain, raised above them all;

He wore Siavash’s crown of ancient gold,And held his court like sovereigns of old!

The chief scribe watched Bahram Chubin, and knewHis boldness, strength, and royal hunger grew.

He went and told Kharrad what he had seen,Both sight and rumor, all that it could mean.

Kharrad, son of Barzin, was racked with pain,And saw that patient counsel had proved vain.

He whispered: “Noble scribe, heed this alarm;Do not despise this brewing cloud of harm!

Our king of kings has acted like a fool,And made the spindle-case his scornful tool.

He did not know this lion’s heart or mind,Nor what fierce temper in him lay confined.

We must keep silent here; at night we goBefore the Shah to tell him what we know.”

Convinced the general plotted for the reign,They marked his pride and saw his treason plain;

They weighed the danger, planned a secret flight,And slipped away from Balkh beneath the night.

The chief soon learned the two had fled away,Those prudent men who would no longer stay.

He said to bold Yalan-sina, “Now ride;Take a full hundred horsemen at your side.

Pursue those fugitives upon their way;Ride swiftly after them without delay!”

Though Barzin’s crafty son outstripped the chase,The burdened scribe was halted in his race:

Yalan-sina assailed him where he turned,And seized him like a wolf as anger burned;

He bound his wrists in an unyielding chain,And dragged him back to Bahram’s court in pain.

He brought him there intending he should die,Though no just charge against the scribe could lie.

Bahram said, “You have done a foul Div’s deed;Why flee without my leave at such great speed?”

The scribe replied: “Kharrad aroused my fear;He swore we could no longer linger here!

He warned that when the general claimed the throne,His wrath would crush the scribes who served his own.

He urged this flight!” Bahram replied: “Just so;A prudent soul anticipates each blow.”

He paid the scribe for everything he lost,And added gifts beyond the reckoned cost.

Then said, “Now tend your office and your pen,And never think of flight from here again.”

Kharrad, the son of Barzin, fled; his horseRan to the Shah’s court on a headlong course.

He told his news and held no matter back:The wood, the meadow, Gur-e-Khar, and track.

He spoke of Bahram’s stay, the narrow way,The palace shining in the field by day.

He told of jeweled throne and crowned queen,And slave-girls serving in that hidden scene.

He told the Shah whatever he had heard,And all he saw, concealing not a word.

The Shah received the tale with inward dread,And pondered what the High Mobad had said.

The omen-reader, too, had warned the throneThat Bahram would no more its lordship own.

At once he called the High Mobad inside;Kharrad remained there, seated at his side.

He said, “Relate your journey, clear and true;Tell every wonder that appeared to you.”

Kharrad obeyed and opened up the tale;He told it all, from palace-wall to vale.

The Shah then asked the priest, “What does this mean?We must discern the truth of what was seen.

The Gur-e-Khar that led him through the wood,The wilderness where that strange palace stood,

The crowned lady on the seat of gold,Her queenly slaves, a wonder to behold;

This tale resembles dreams from ancient lore,Or something shaped from stories told before.”

The High Mobad replied before his eyes:“That Gur-e-Khar was a Div in disguise.

It sought to draw Bahram away from right,And turn his heart to mutiny and spite.

That palace was a work of magic art;The crowned lady was a witch at heart.

She showed him crown and throne in royal state,To feed his pride and hasten on his fate.

He left her palace swollen high with pride;No gentle rein will turn his mind aside.

Already maddened by the distaff-case,A witch’s whispers deepen his disgrace!

It was not wise to send that woman’s dressTo one so proud, so prone to swift excess!

By this, Iran’s men have withdrawn their trust,Their hopes in you have fallen into dust.

Devise some way your army to recallFrom Balkh to serve before your palace wall.”

The king repented what his anger chose:The cotton and the gaudy women’s clothes.

He asked Kharrad, “What do the soldiers sayOf that crowned lady seen upon the way?”

Kharrad replied, “The army knows her name:They call her Bahram’s Luck and praise her fame.

They say she sat upon the throne, well dressed,Her beauty radiant, her heart at rest.”

The king grew fearful of the coming ill,And what revolving fortune might fulfill.

Then Bahram sent an envoy to the throne,With twelve broad blades of watered steel, well known:

Sharp, venom-tempered swords of deadly light,A challenge to the monarch and his might.

Hormizd beheld that grim, defiant load,And fury through his royal bosom glowed:

He bade smiths take their sledgehammers and smite,Till each snapped blade was broken in their sight!

He packed the shattered steel to send away,With words of bitter malice and dismay.

When Bahram viewed the fragments in the field,Those blades destroyed, too fractured now to wield,

His wayward spirit filled with darker thought;He called the chiefs to view what had been brought.

“Behold the king’s gift; do not count it small:It says our force is worthless, one and all.

It means no warrior here shall keep his head;He marks us all for ruin with the dead.”

The troops considered both the royal deedAnd words their chief had spoken, taking heed.

They said, “First came, to heap on us disgrace,A distaff and a robe to shame our race.

Now broken khanjars come, a darker sign,Worse than hard blows or words across the line.

May such a Shah no longer hold the throne;May all reject him and his name disown.

If Bahram, child of Goshnasp’s blood, againShould ride to court to serve this Shah of men,

May neither brain nor bone of him remain,Nor seed of all his lineage on the plain!”

He heard them, marked how royal wrongs oppressedTheir grieving hearts, and then the chiefs addressed:

“Stay watchful, clear of mind; Kharrad has shownOur hidden matters to the royal throne.

Let each devise how best to live this day;Renew your pledge to me without delay.

Let someone from the troops arise to standAgainst our foes and guard this threatened band.

Else darkness falls upon my life and power,The army slack of belt in battle’s hour.”

He chose a new course, vigilant and clear,And tried his troops, whose hearts were filled with fear.

They ranged across the breadth of his domain,To seize the Shah’s dispatches on the plain.

No royal letter reached Iranian hands,So none would arm to heed the Shah’s commands.

A week passed thus; no man throughout the landCould read a letter from the monarch’s hand.

Bahram Chubin then summoned all his chiefs,To voice his secret thoughts and inward griefs.

Hamdan Gashasp was there; beside him cameThe ancient scribe, a counselor of fame;

Yalan-sina, renowned in many a fight,With valiant Bahram, proved in martial might.

That Bahram sprang from Siavash’s seed,A warrior known for many a valiant deed.

Kanda Gashasp was there, a prudent guide;With these Bahram took counsel at his side.

They all were lions, men of spear and blade;Before those restless chiefs his case he laid.

“O famous chiefs whose counsel men require,Whose words can kindle judgment into fire,

The Shah is angry with us without cause,And turns away from justice and its laws.

What will you do? What remedy remains?No profit rises now from former pains.

Who hides his anguish from the healer’s artWill bear a wound that festers in the heart.

Small troubles swell beyond a man’s commandWhen kept from those who truly understand.

I have my private griefs, and I will tellThe sages where my wounds and sorrows dwell.

You know these matters; you have seen the field,And can bear witness to the truths revealed.

By order of the Shah we left our land,With few troops facing one vast hostile band.

Though one might live long years beneath the sky,No greater foe would ever meet his eye.

Had Turk Parmudeh and King Saveh ledTheir troops against Iran, with banners spread,

Our land would then have melted like soft waxBefore the weight of their combined attacks.

And then, when Iran’s royal lands were won,They would have marched on Rum beneath the sun.

Parmudeh and King Saveh then were shownA marvel no one in the world had known.

We bore great toil, and when the field was done,Left them no elephants, no treasure, none.

The Shah has heaped his coffers, and he hoardsThe wealth we won in battle with our swords.

Yet now he scorns the troops in bitter spite,Though all we did restored his royal right.

The work that saved his crown was ours alone;No toil of his made that high seat his own.

Amid this turmoil, what can now be doneTo free my heart from grief beneath the sun?

You too must seek a path that brings release;What remedy can guard your lives and peace?

I have laid bare my heart and freed my soul;Now speak of good or ill and state the whole.

If any means are known to mind or hand,Speak plainly now, and help your captain stand.”

Behind the chamber veil, concealed from eyes,There dwelt his sister, prudent, brave, and wise:

Fair Gurdiyeh, endowed with noble grace,Whom Bahram cherished for her mind and face.

When from behind the veil she heard his speech,Her anger flared beyond the bounds of reach.

She joined the council, tears upon her cheek,Her tongue like arrows, sharpened now to speak.

Her cheeks were gold with grief, her heart distressed;Old words and grievances weighed on her breast.

Her brother, when he heard her voice, grew still;No answer rose against her forceful will.

The Iranians, too, were silent in that place,For fear of harm was written on each face.

Then Gurdiyeh addressed the warrior train:“Illustrious men, why hold your tongues in chain?

You seek for guidance, yet your lips are sealed;Why must your anger still be kept concealed?

You are Iran’s great chieftains, brave and wise,The foremost lords beneath the turning skies.

What do you see within this bloody game?What course can save your honor and your name?”

Izad Gashasp, the Pahlevan, replied:“O living memory of the brave, our guide,

If every tongue of ours became a sword,It would fall back before the words you poured.

God made you learned, brave of heart, and wise;Your counsel lifts our judgment to the skies.

We need not fight like leopards with the world,Nor rush where every spear and lance is hurled.

No one should seek my counsel from this day;My wisdom has no further word to say.

If you will fight, I too will lend my hand,And meet their horsemen firmly where they stand.

If I have pleased the Pahlevan, may youthBe his forever, safe from time’s harsh tooth.”

Bahram perceived that Izad would not choose,But sought a course where neither side could lose.

He turned to bold Yalan-sina and said,“What thoughts now move beneath your warrior head?”

He answered, “Chief, the walker in God’s wayWins fame and wisdom, clear as break of day.

He gains his wish and victory through grace,But must not rush toward evil or disgrace.

For evil turns a blessing to a curse,And circling heaven may answer with worse.

God gave you grace and fortune, might full-grown,With wealth and power no rival could have known.

If you give thanks, your gifts He will increase;Through thanklessness the heart will lose its peace.”

Bahram then turned to Bahram, wise in thought,His prudent friend, whose counsel had been sought.

“What say you of this quest for wealth and state?Will royal greatness come, or grief await?”

He laughed to hear them weigh so grave a thing,Then tossed into the air his signet-ring:

“As long as this gold ring remains in air,So long a subject may the diadem wear!”

The captain frowned: “You make the crown too small;It is no trivial honor, once for all!”

Then Bahram bade bold Kanda Gashasp bareHis mind: “O lion, sword in hand, declare:

What do you see and say of our affair?Do we deserve the royal throne to share?”

That Pahlevan replied, “O living lightOf heroes famed for courage in the fight,

A Mobad once at Rey declared this thing:‘To reign a moment as a mighty king,

Then let the soul to heaven take its flight,Is better than long years of servile plight,

And waiting, needy, at the royal doorTo beg the sovereign’s treasure evermore.’”

Then to the chief scribe Bahram turned his face:“Old wolf, now speak your counsel in this place.”

The chief scribe sat awhile and held his peace,Amid a crowd of thoughts that would not cease.

Then said, “Who rightly seeks his heart’s desireMay gain the very thing he would acquire.

Time’s arm is long; with all that God has willed,A man may see his striving’s aim fulfilled.”

The chieftain turned to Hamdan Gashasp then:“You know how Fortune lifts and humbles men;

Whatever you shall utter in our hallWill be as wind and do no hurt at all.

Advise us in this test of good and ill,While Fate advances toward its hidden will.”

Great Hamdan answered, “Prized among the great,Why fear an evil not yet born of fate?

Why ask so much concerning crown and reign?Act first, and leave the rest to God’s domain.

Why reach to pluck the date with such alarmIf fear of thorns already binds your arm?

The leader of a people finds no rest;His mind knows fear; care weighs upon his breast.”

The captain’s sister writhed at what they said,And clouds of grief and anger filled her head.

Yet in that long debate she spoke no word,From sun’s decline till midnight’s hush was heard.

Then Bahram asked, “Fair lady, make it clear:What judgment have you drawn from all you hear?”

But Gurdiyeh answered nothing in that hour;His counsel seemed to her a poisoned flower.

Then to the chief scribe she directed speech:“O harmful man, old wolf beyond all reach,

So you conceive the crown and royal seat,Ranks, wealth, and Fortune’s force beneath one’s feet,

Were never sought by nobles, wise and great?Do you think service harder than the state?

If ruling seems the easier in your eyes,Your wisdom warrants tears, not our surprise.

Let us recall the precedents of kings,And hear what ancient, nobler counsel brings.”

The chief scribe answered, “If my counsel failsThen follow yours wherever it prevails.

Speak, act, and do whatever art may guide;Follow your heart and let that heart decide.”

Then to self-willed Bahram his sister turned;Her words were sharp; within, her sorrow burned.

“Your knowledge and your counsel are not good;Your steps now lead through treachery’s dark wood.

Full many times the Shah’s throne has been bare,Yet no great chief looked on that seat to share.

Their task was guarding earth by valor’s hand,Not taking seats they were not born to command.

They knew that kingship was the higher place,And better than subjection and disgrace.

They did not aim at throne or crown’s embrace;They armed themselves to serve with loyal grace.

They sought their sovereigns’ welfare, heart and hand,And served with truth the masters of the land.

No stranger to the royal line should reign;By noble birth a man that height may gain.

First hear the tale of noble Shah Kavus,Whose troubled will let reckless longing loose.

He sought to probe God’s mysteries on high,To count the stars and walk across the sky.

But through perverse desire and reckless pride,At Sari he was shamed and cast aside.

Yet old Gudarz and Rostam, battle-wise,Did not seize throne or let rebellion rise.

And later, when Kavus went far away,To Hamavaran, where in chains he lay,

No loyal Iranian sought to seize the crown;They showed but grief, and laid their sorrow down.

When Iranians told Rostam, ‘You are fitTo claim the golden throne and sit on it,’

He rounded on the speaker, fierce and grim:‘May the cold grave be all that waits for him.

Shall I sit crowned on gold while Shahs are bound?Let kingship perish, buried underground.

Let crown and throne be ruined root and stem,Before I shame my lord by claiming them.’

He chose twelve thousand horsemen at command,World-conquering riders from Iran’s broad land.

Their steeds in bargostvan, an iron wave,And freed Kavus, with Tus and Giv the brave.

With them Gudarz was freed from captive night,And honor filled Iran with renewed light.

Then when Pirooz was slain and hope was lost,And all Iran had reckoned up the cost,

While Khoshnavaz, emboldened by their plight,Sat calmly on the throne in royal might,

There came Sofrye, of Gharan’s noble line,To raise the throne again by clear design.

When his success was plain before the land,The nobles came to hail his royal hand.

They wished to make him monarch of the earth,Though but a subject, proven high in worth.

He told them, ‘Such a deed would bring disgrace;The crown belongs to those of royal race.

Although Qobad is young, the child will grow;The wolf must not be placed where lions go.

To crown a man who lacks the royal bloodWould drown his kin in shame as in a flood.’

When young Qobad reached manhood, fate grew grim;He saw Sofrye stood high in rank by him.

He had Sofrye, by wicked counsel, slain,The state’s strong pillar, guardian of the reign.

The army rose against Qobad that day,And set Jamasp upon the throne to stay.

The people then put bold Qobad in chains,That horseman born to rule Iran’s domains.

They gave him to Rizmehr, that he might takeRevenge upon him for his father’s sake.

Rizmehr saw none more worthy of the crownThan royal-born Qobad, though then cast down.

He freed him so that he could press his claim,And rise again in kingship and in name.

No subject dared aspire to crown or throne,Though many had proud birth and worth well known.

When from the Turks the man called Saveh cameTo seek the crown and seal with royal aim,

The glorious Maker ordered that his headShould fall in Iran, and his pride be dead.

Why should a subject seek the royal throne,And covet all the kingdom for his own?

Yalan-sina spurs his horse, as though to say,‘I raise to kingship, winning fame this way,

Bahram Chubin, sprung from Goshnasp’s line,And make my name through future ages shine.’

Wise Anooshirvan, aged and glory-crowned,Found youth renewed when Hormizd stood renowned.

All nobles of this realm uphold his reign;They serve his will through every hill and plain.

He has three hundred thousand at command,Famed horsemen, lances, swords, and spears in hand.

His bold men heed his will and keep their place,Yet he chose you by royal right and grace.

He raised your ancestors to noble height,And let them triumph over hostile might.

Will you repay his good with evil now?Know evil will return upon your brow.

Design no evil, brother; every wrongReturns upon the doer before long.

Make greed no lord above your heart and head,Or sages will withdraw the praise they spread.

Though I am young, a woman at your side,Still hear the wiser path my words provide.

Do not cast all your fathers’ deeds away;May you not rue these words some future day.”

The assembly marveled at her speech and mind;The chieftain bit his lip, with rage confined.

He knew her words were just and sought the right,A path of honor clear before his sight.

Yalan-sina answered, “Fair lady, ceaseTo vex the warriors’ counsel and their peace.

Hormizd will pass, and soon your brother’s handWill hold the throne and rule the royal land.

Since he is what he is in force and fame,Count him already king in deed and name.

If Hormizd claims the crown and royal gift,Why send the cotton and the distaff shift?

The Pahlevan, a lion fierce and strong,Makes earth itself quake as he strides along.

Had his good sword stayed sleeping in its sheath,The Shah and Iran had been ground beneath.

Iran itself had bowed to foreign tread,Yet he was sent a woman’s shift instead.

Shame on this faithless king! Speak so no moreOf Turk-born Hormizd and his hoarded store!

Five hundred years that line has held the throne,And claimed the world’s dominion for their own;

Now let the crown from Sasan’s lineage pass,Whose fame has withered like the summer grass!

Think not of Khosrow Parviz; let his nameBe heard no more; it merits no acclaim.

The men most close to him within his courtWill serve your brother and his word support.

At Bahram’s word they will bind him in place,And heap upon his head that deep disgrace.”

Then Gurdiyeh said, “The Black Div spreads his snare;Destroy us not through boasting filled with air.