The matchless Rustam heard the words with shame,
And felt an ardent longing to depart.
He gathered horses out of all the herds
That wandered o'er the deserts of Túrán,
Together with ten thousand boys and girls—
Slaves fit to serve a king—with bags of musk,
With skins of marten, ermine, and grey squirrel,
Of minever and weasel. On the backs
Of elephants were furs, perfumes, dínárs,
Gold, tapestries, and havings great and small,
Stuffs for apparel, treasures, drachms, and swords,
As well as other weapons, crowns, and thrones.
They packed the loads, set forward to Írán,
And, going from Túrán toward Zábul,
Drew near to glorious Zál, while Tús, Gúdarz,
And Gív, those famous chiefs, went to the Sháh
At Párs.
When news reached base Afrásiyáb
That Tús and Rustam were across the river
He assembled
Without delay a host equipped for war,
And led his warriors and lion-men
Against Írán. His plan was to attack
From every side. No respite was afforded,
He burned up all the settlements and trees,
And brought the Íránians to a parlous case.
For seven years there was a rainless sky,
The favour changed, conditions were reversed,