When bright Sol topped the mountains, and the head
And crown of white day showed, the scattered troops
Began to gather, and their converse ran:—
“Full many of the Íránian host are slain!
Our leader's fortune hath deserted him,
So mighty were the Turkmans' hands in fight!
The army must not tarry longer here:
We verily must go before the Sháh,
And see how fortune turneth. If his heart
Be not intent on war then thou and I
Have no occasion to exert ourselves.
The sires have lost their sons, the sons their sires,
And most are wounded or in sore distress;
But if the Sháh shall bid us to engage,
And shall equip a noble host, then we
Will march, our hearts filled with revenge and strife,
And make the world too narrow for our foes.”
Thus minded they retreated from those marches,
Their eyes surcharged with tears, their hearts with
anguish,
Now that the story of Farúd is ended
Hear the campaign wherein Kámús contended.