Ne'er, since the making of the world was done,
Hath such a king been seen by human eye;
The crown above his throne is like the sun,
And maketh earth as bright as ivory.
How canst thou say: “It is the sun indeed”?
From him by far more glorious rays proceed.
Abú'l Kásim! this all-victorious one
Hath set his throne yet higher than the sun!
His are the rays which illustrate the sky,
His is the Grace which openeth afar
Yon mines of gold.

Awoke my slumbering star.

Ideas poured through my brain tumultuously.
Methought: “The time for speaking in good sooth
Hath come, the outworn age regaineth youth.”
By thoughts of this great monarch occupied
I fell asleep one night with lips all praise,
While my free heart, although my lips were tied,
Shone in the dark. Then I beheld in sleep
A dazzling lustre rising from the deep
And making by the brightness of its rays
The gloom of earth like glittering gems. The waste
Grew like brocade beneath that radiant light,
And in the midst a turquoise throne was placed.
Upon the throne there sat a moon-like king
With on his head a crown for covering.
His army stretched two miles. To left there were
Seven hundred elephants in all their might.

Before him stood a trusty minister
To guide him to the Faith and to do right.
By that Sháh's Grace, by all those troops outspread
And mighty elephants my head was dazed,
And as upon his royal face I gazed
To that illustrious company I said:—
“Is this the sky and moon, or throne and crown?
Are these his soldiers or the stars come down?”
One answered: “'Tis the king of Rúm and Ind,
King from Kannúj e'en to the river Sind,
While in Túrán and in Írán men give
As slaves obedience to his will and live
Thereby. With justice decked he earth and now,
That done, hath set the crown upon his brow.
Mahmúd the worldlord, the great Sháh, doth bring
Together sheep and wolf for watering.
The monarchs from Kashmír down to the sea
Of Chín are instant in his eulogy,
And children yet within their cots proclaim
With lips unweaned as their first word his name
Do thou too tell his praise, for thou canst speak,
And through him everlasting glory seek.
All do his bidding and keep fealty.”
When I awakened to my feet I sprang,
Oh! what a while that night his praise I sang!
No drachms had I but poured my soul, and cried
To mine own heart: “My dream is justified,
For his renown is patent far and wide.”
Then praise to him who praiseth the Most High
For sleepless fortune, crown, and signet-ring.
His glory maketh earth like garths in Spring
With flower-painted soil and cloudy sky—
A sky whence in their season showers come
And make the world a garden of Iram.
What good is in Írán his justice giveth,
His name alone is heard where any liveth.
A bounteous Heaven at banquets thou wilt find,
A sharp-clawed Dragon in the fray meanwhile;
He is an elephant, hath Gabriel's mind,
Hands like a winter-cloud, heart like the Nile.
When he is wroth, opposing fortune's might
Is, as dínárs are, worthless in his sight;
To boast of crown and hoard is not his part,
And war and travail darken not his heart.
All those who are among his fosterlings,
Freeborn or otherwise, but noble still,
Devoted lieges of the king of kings,
With loins girt ready to perform his will,
Have each a province under their control,
Each hath his name inscribed on every roll.
The foremost is his brother, who in years
Is younger, but in courage hath no peers;
They who are courtiers of his Grace acquire
Joy in the shadow of the age's king,
For he who hath Násiru'd-Dín for sire
Hath round his throne the Pleiads in a ring,
And is the lord of prowess, rede, and might
In whom the nobles, one and all, delight.
Next is the prince of Tús, a valiant lord
Who mocketh lions in the battle-tide,
And lavisheth what fortune may accord
To him, desiring honour, naught beside.
He leadeth men to God; his prayer is still
That the Sháh's head may be preserved from ill.
May earth ne'er see that royal head go down,
And may the Sháh rejoice for ever thus,
Possessing health of body, throne, and crown,
Unpained, untroubled, and victorious.

Now to the opening of my work once more
To tell the tales of famous kings of yore.