Now Minúchihr, twice sixty years being sped,
Prepared to pass, because the astrologers
Informed him that the royal Grace would fade:—

“Thy time for passing to the other world
Hath come, God grant thee a good place with Him.
Consider what behoveth to be done
And let not death surprise thee, so make ready
For yielding up thy body to the clay.”
When he had heard the wise men's words he changed
The fashion of his court, told the archmages
And chiefs the secrets of his heart, then gave
Naudar much counsel, saying thus: “This throne
Is but a jest, a breath, no lasting thing
To set the heart upon. In six score years
Now passed I girt my loins for stress and travail
And used to find much pleasure and content
In labour at the bidding of the Sháh.
I girt me with the Grace of Farídún,
And by his counsels every loss proved gain.
I took on Salm and on the brutal Túr* Due vengeance for my grandsire—great Íraj—
I cleansed the world of its iniquities
And built me many a city, many a fortress;
Yet thou mightst say that I had never seen
The world, such am I! and my tale of years
Is blank. A tree whose leaves and fruit are bitter,
Should it not rather die than still live on?
Now after I have borne such pain and travail
I leave the throne of kingship and the treasure
To thee. As Farídún once gave to me,
So give I thee, the crown worn by the Sháhs.
Hard are the enterprises that confront thee,
Thou must be sometimes wolf and sometimes sheep.
The offspring of Pashang will be thy bane,
And from Túrán will be thy straitening.
When any question shall arise, my son!
Seek aid from Zál and Sám and this new Tree
Now burgeoning, sprung from the root of Zál.
He will tread down Túrán and take upon him
To avenge thee.”

While he spake he wept. Naudar

Bewailed him bitterly, and thus the Sháh,
Free from disease, unvexed by any pains,
Closed with a last cold sigh his eyes and faded.
So passed that famous Sháh, well graced in all,
Whose tale is left as his memorial.