Night came like vengeful Áhriman, the bells
He spake and wanned;
That noble Lion, Farshídward, was gone.
Asfandiyár clutched at his own cuirass,
Marred all the painted silk, and cried: “O Lord
Supreme and holy! lead me to take vengeance
For Farshídward, to send the dust-clouds flying
From stones and water, from Arjásp to set
The blood a-stream, and give Luhrásp's soul peace.”
With heart all vengeance and with head distraught
He laid his brother's corpse upon the saddle,
Then mounted to the heights, his brother's body
Bound on the bay, and said: “What at this present
Can I achieve for thee, how raise thy charnel?
He answered them:—
“All that ye care for on the battlefield
Are sleep and feast. When tidings reached Kuhram:—
‘Asfandiyár hath made his passage through you,’
He said to me: ‘Take thy sharp scimitar,
And bring the Day of Doom upon their souls.’”
Then, mindful of the battle with Gushtásp,
He drew his scimitar and laid about him,
O'erthrew full many of them on the road,
And thence departed toward the Sháh's abode.