The Íránians drew back with heads abashed
And livers wounded for their friends, and when
The moon rose o'er the mountains as it were
A king triumphant on his turquoise throne,
Pírán the chieftain called his warriors,
And said: “Not many of the foe remain,
And, when the Topaz Sea shall dash its waves
Upon the Realm of Lapislazuli,
I will destroy those that survive and make
The Sháh's heart writhe.”

The troops went off rejoicing,

And all the night before the tent-enclosure
Sat sleepless through the sounds of harp and rebeck;
But for their part the Íránians mourned, the sires
Lamented for their sons, the killed and wounded
Hid all the plain, earth ran with great men's blood.
To right and left the field was strewn with hands
And feet unsortable. All night men raised
Their stricken friends, bound up and stitched their
wounds,
Left strangers to their fate, and burned the slain.
Full many of the kindred of Gúdarz
Were hurt or killed or captive. At the news
He wailed, earth shook beneath the Íránians' cries,

The chiefs all rent their raiment, he himself
Cast dust upon his head, exclaiming: “None
With hoary head hath seen such ills as mine!
Why must I still survive with my white hairs
Now that so many of my sons are laid
In dust? Since that dark day when I was born
I have not doffed my tunic. When I went
With heroes and my cavaliers to war
My grandsons and my sons supported me,
But none of them surviveth our first fight
Upon Túránian soil! May be my sun
Was once for all extinguished with Bahrám,
And hence I see so many chieftains slain.”
Tús, hearing of Gúdarz, wept tears of blood,
And turned as pale as sandarach. He raised
A bitter Magian cry: “Had not Naudar,
That holy man,” he said, “set in life's garth
My feet and roots then travail, pain, and grief,
Woe for the dead and anguish in the strife,
Had ne'er been mine, for since I girt my loins
My heart hath oft been pierced though I survive.
Now where there is a pit inter the slain,
Restore each trunk its head, and bear the baggage
Toward Mount Hamáwan. Take all the army,
The tents, and tent-enclosures to the mountain.
We will dispatch the Sháh a camel-post;
His heart will burn and he will send us troops.
I purposed when I sent the cavalier
To carry news of us before the battle,
That Kai Khusrau should send the son of Zál
To lead the reinforcements to the field.”
He loaded up and, thinking of the slain
With anguish, called his men to horse again.