Now when Káús was entering Írán,
And when the army's dust concealed the world,
The excitement reached the sun, and men and women
Met him with loud acclaim; they decked the land
And called for wine and harp and minstrelsy.
The world grew young through him, and there arose
A New Moon from Írán. Glad and triumphant
He sat enthroned, unlocked his ancient hoards,
And summoned almoners. A shout went up
Before the gate of elephantine Rustam,
And all the captains of the host assembled
Rejoicing in the presence of the Sháh.
Then matchless Rustam, casque on head, drew near
And seated by the Sháh asked leave to go
To Zál. The worldlord gave him costly gifts,
Such as he merited—a throne with rams' heads
All jewelled in turquoise, a royal crown
Of gems, a robe of gold worn by the Sháh,
A splendid torque and armlet, and withal
A hundred moon-faced boys with golden girdles,
A hundred lovely damsels musky-haired,
A hundred noble steeds in golden harness,
A hundred black-haired mules with golden bridles
All laden with brocade of royal fashion
From Rúm, Pahlav, and Chín, a hundred purses
Filled with dínárs, bright stuffs, perfumes, and trinkets,
A ruby goblet full of purest musk,
Another of turquoise filled with rose-water,
And therewithal a patent writ on silk
With ink of musk, wine, ambergris, and aloes.

Upon that chief—the Light of earth—the Sháh
Bestowed anew the whole realm of Nímrúz,
So that thenceforth none else should have the throne,
And blessed him, saying: “May none see sun and
moon
Without thee, be the chiefs' hearts warm to thee,
And be thy soul fulfilled with love and kindness.”
Then Rustam leaped down, kissed the throne, made
ready
For his departure, and bound on the baggage.
The din of kettledrums rose from the city,
And all partook his joy. They put up garlands
While bells and clarions sounded. Rustam went,
The Sháh remained, illumining the world
With laws and usages. When thus returned
He portioned out the earth among his chieftains,
Appointing Tús the captain of the host.
“Avert,” he said, “disaster from Írán,”
While Ispahán bestowed he on Gúdarz,
Gave him the throne and lordship of that march,
And then disposed himself for mirth and wine,
Displayed his majesty and smote the neck
Of sorrow with the scimitar of justice.
None thought of death, the earth grew full of verdure—
A garden of Iram*

—with streams and dew,
And rich by justice and security;
The hand of Áhriman was stayed from ill,
And day and night the fruits and foliage
Invoked a blessing on the crown and throne:—
“A hundred thousand blessings every hour
From the Creator be upon the Sháh,
Who by his justice civilizeth earth
And in his justice mindeth bounteousness.”
'Twas noised abroad: “Káús the Sháh hath taken
The crown and throne out of Mázandarán.”
All wondered that he should achieve such greatness,
The loyal with their gifts and offerings
Drew up in rank before the monarch's door,
And all the world was decked like Paradise,
Fulfilled with wealth and justice.

Thou hast heard

About the warfare with Mázandarán,
Now hear the contest with Hámávarán.