When Sol shot down its rays the enemy—
That doer of dív's work—approached the palace,
And went about it, but that splendid seat
Was void of Sháh. They gave to spoil his treasures,
None recking of his travail, and then all
Withdrew in tears and wroth at fortune's doings.

What of yon swiftly turning sky say we,
Which never resteth from its instancy?
It giveth unto one the royal crown,
Another to the fishes in the sea.

One man hath head and feet and shoulders bare,
No peace, no food, no shelter anywhere;
It giveth to another drink of milk
And honey; furs, brocade, and silks to wear!

Dust and the darkness of the grave await
Them both. To be unborn would best abate
The sage's cares for never to have been
Is better than to be for small and great.

Now for fresh toil upon Khusrau Parwíz
To give reciters novel histories.
The Sháh bode in that mead, a lofty tree
O'ershadowing him. When half the longsome day
Had passed he hungered. Now within the pleasance
There was a man employed who did not know
The king by sight. The Sun-faced bade his slave:—
“Cut off a cantle from this costly belt.”
That cantle had on it five studs of gold
Enriched with jewelry. The king then spake
Thus to the gardener: “These studs will prove

Of use to-day. Go thou to the bázár,
Buy meat and bread, and shun frequented paths.”
Those jewels would have cost a purchaser
Some thirty thousand drachms. Immediately
The gardener sought a baker and asked bread
In change for that gold cantle but the baker
Said: “I have not its worth and cannot pass it.”
The two conveyed it to a jeweller,
And said: “Price this according to thy knowledge.”
The expert, when he looked upon the studs,
Said: “Who will dare to buy, for this should be
Within the treasury of Khusrau Parwíz,
Who hath a hundred new like this each year?
Whom didst thou steal these jewels from, or didst
Thou cut them off a slave who was asleep?”
The three men went to Farrukhzád and took
The jewels, gold and all, and he on seeing
Ran to the new-made king and showed the gems,
And cantle severed from the golden girdle.
Shírwí said to the gardener: “If thou
Show'st not to me the owner of these jewels
I will behead thee and thy kith and kin
Forthwith.”

“O Sháh!” he answered, “in the garden

There is a man in armour, bow in hand,
In height a cypress and with cheeks like Spring,
In all points like a king; he brighteneth
The garden everywhere, and in his mail
Is like the shining sun. His golden shield
Is hanging from a bough. Before him standeth
A slave with loins girt up who cut for him
This jewelled cantle, handed it to me,
And told me: ‘Hence away and from the market
Buy bread and relish.’ Swift as wind I left him
But now.”

Shírwí knew: “'Tis Khusrau Parwíz,

His features are the age's cynosure,”
And sent three hundred horsemen from the court,
Like rushing wind, down to the river-bank.
Khusrau Parwîz, perceiving them afar,
Grew pale and drew his scimitar, but when
They saw the king of kings they all returned
In tears. They went to Farrukhzád and said:—
“We are but slaves; he is Khusrau Parwíz—
A Sháh to whom the evil day is new.
None either in the garden or the fray
Would dare breathe cold on him.”

Then Farrukhzád

Went to the Sháh with troops from court, advanced
Alone and spake at large. Khusrau Parwíz

Gave ear to him. He said: “If now the Sháh
Will grant me audience, and will excuse
My conduct, I will come and tell the truth
To him but otherwise will hie me home.”
Khusrau Parwíz made answer: “Say thy say,
For thou art neither friend nor enemy.”
Then said that fluent speaker: “View the matter
More wisely and assume that thou hast slain
A thousand warriors, yet thou wilt get
Thy fill of fight at last while all Írán
Is hostile to thee, leagued both heart and body
In opposition. Wait the will of heaven:
Perchance these conflicts may result in love.”
“Yea,” said Khusrau Parwíz, “'tis well. What I
Dread are the vile who may approach and treat me
With all indignities if so they will.”
While he was speaking thus to Farrukhzád
His heart was troubled at his agéd fortune
Because astrologers had said to him,
And he had been astonied at their words:—
“Thy death will come to thee between two heights,
And by a slave's hand in a lonely spot.
One height will be of gold and one of silver,
And thou with broken heart wilt sit between.
Thy heaven will be golden, thine earth iron,
And fortune will be full of enmity.”
He said: “So now this armour is mine earth,
My golden shield my heaven, and the heights
Are my two treasuries within the garden,
Which used to make my heart shine like a lamp.
In sooth my days are coming to an end:
Where is my star that used to light the world?
Where are the satisfaction and the peace
Of me who had my name inscribed on crowns?”
They brought an elephant for him. His soul
Was dark with woe. He mounted, and the troops
Led him away while in the ancient tongue
He cried: “O treasure! if thou art my foe
Be not a friend to these mine enemies,
For I am in the hands of Áhriman
To-day. Thou aid'st me not in my distress:
Conceal thyself and show thyself to none.”
Kubád gave orders to his minister:—
“Remind him not of any evil deed,
But bid them carry him to Taisafún
Away from court with his own counsellor.
There let him bide in peace for many a day
And harmed by none. Let trusty Galínús
Be made his keeper with a thousand horsemen.”
When thus the sky revolved above his head
His reign had lasted eight and thirty years.
It was the day of Dai of month Ázar,
A time for fires and wine and roasted fowls,
When from Khusrau Parwíz the Grace of kingship
Withdrew and he was crownless like a slave.
Kubád acceded and put on the crown,
And sat in peace rejoicing on the throne.
The Íránian troops did homage to the Sháh,
Who gave one year's pay from the treasury,
And lived but seven months so call him naught,
Or call him Sháh, just as it pleaseth thee.
Such is this tyrant Hostel's wont! Thou must
Look not upon it with an eye of trust.
Of all things cultivate a generous mood,
And let thy thoughts be ever bent on good.
When thou shalt say: “The world hath granted me
My wish” then mark! that wish will prove to thee
A bond and snare. If so thou canst abstain
From thought of ill and list this sage's strain.
Here will thy soul from every fault be freed
When thou dost rightly both in word and deed.