One dark and moonless night, while birds, wild beasts,
And cattle slept, Pírán in dream beheld
A splendour that outshone the sun itself,
While Siyáwush, enthroned and sword in hand,
Called loudly to him, saying: “Rest no more!
Throw off sweet sleep and think of times to come,
For from to-day new feasts and customs date,
Because to-night is born Sháh Kai Khusrau!”
The chieftain roused him from his sweet repose:
Gulshahr the sunny-featured woke. Pírán
Said unto her: “Arise! Betake thyself
To minister to Farangís, for I
Saw Siyáwush in sleep a moment since,
Surpassing both the sun and moon in lustre,
And crying: ‘Sleep no more, but join the feast
Of Kai Khusrau, the monarch of the world.’”
Gulshahr came hasting to the Moon and saw
The prince already born; she went with cries
Of joy that made the palace ring again
Back to Pírán the chief. “Thou wouldest say,”
She cried, “that king and Moon are fairly matched!
Oh! hasten and behold a miracle—
The Maker's greatness and His providence—
For thou wilt say: ‘The babe hath need of naught
But crown, mail, mace, and lands to devastate.’”
The chieftain visited the royal babe,
And offered many praises to the Almighty
For that tall stature and those arms and neck.
Thou wouldst have said: “The child is twelve months
old!”
Pírán's eyes filled with tears for Siyáwush:
He uttered curses on Afrásiyáb,

And thus addressed the noble company:—
“Although the king shall break my soul therefor
I will not suffer him to touch the child,
Not though he fling me to the crocodiles!”
When gloomy murk was sleeping, and the sun
Displayed its rays, the captain of the host,
'Twixt fear and hope, went to Afrásiyáb
In haste, but waited till the court had cleared;
Then came anear the famous throne and thus
Addressed the king: “O sunlike sovereign
And world-lord, shrewd and versed in magic arts!
Thy lot last night was bettered by one slave,
‘Dowered by the moon,’ as thou wouldst say, ‘with
sense,’
He hath engrossed all beauty: thou wouldst say:—
‘It simply is the moon inside the cradle!’
If Túr could have his lifetime o'er again
He would desire to see this infant's face.
None looketh on a picture in a palace
So fair. The royal Grace is fresh in him,
And thou wouldst say: ‘'Tis valiant Farídún
In Grace and countenance, in hand and foot.’
Now purge thy mind from every thought of ill,
Exalt thy heart, and illustrate the crown.”
God gave the king a better mind. He banished
Thoughts of injustice, harshness, and revenge:
His spirit sorrowed for his evil deed.
Then from his heart he heaved a sigh, repenting
Of evil done, and putting by revenge
Replied: “Much evil will befall me now:
That is the gist of everybody's words.
The age will be disquieted by war,
For an adviser hath reminded me
That from the seed of Túr and Kai Kubád
A king of noble birth will lift his head,
The world will seek his love and all men pay
Him homage in Írán and Túrán.
What is to be will be, no anxious thought
Will aught avail; rear not the child at home,
But send him to the shepherds on the mountains
That he may know me not or why I sent him
To them, not know the truth about his birth,
But be in ignorance of all the past.”
He spake upon the matter as he thought,
And deemed this old world young! Canst thou do
aught?
There is no remedy. The world is vast,
No hooks or nets of thine will hold it fast;
But if misfortune's ills thou hast to feel
There is instruction also for thy weal.
The paladin went forth with joy, his heart
Full of glad thoughts, began to bless the Maker.
And sing the praises of the infant king;
Then journeyed to his palace musing thus:—
“This little gift—what will it prove to us?”