Asfandiyár called for a scribe and told
The story of his stratagem and fight.

The illustrious scribe sat on the throne and bade
His Turkman slave to bring him silk of Chín
And pen which having inked, he lauded first
The Master of the Moon, the Lord of Saturn,
Of Venus and the Sun, of elephant,
Of ant, of victory, and Grace divine,
The Lord of the imperial diadem,
The Lord of right direction and good gifts,
The Lord of place and counsel: “May the name
Of Sháh Gushtásp for ever live through Him,
Luhrásp have all his will in Paradise!
I reached Túrán and by a road which I
Shall never praise. If I narrated all
Youth's locks would age with grief, but when the Sháh
Is so disposed I will expound the plan
Of my campaign; his sight will gladden me,
And I shall revel in these longsome toils.
The Brazen Hold, by means of the devices
That I employed to compass my revenge,
Is void both of Arjásp and of Kuhram,
Is void of all save wailing, grief, and mourning.
I have spared none; the herbs upon the plain
No longer bear; the lion and wolf devour
The brains, and lusty pards the hearts, of men.
Oh! may the crown of Sháh Gushtásp illume
The sky, and Sháh Luhrásp make earth a rosebed.”
They set the signet of Asfandiyár
Upon the letter and made choice of riders,
Whom that young ruler sent forth to Írán
On beasts that went apace with lips afoam.
He tarried till he should receive the answer,
Repressing all a self-willed man's impatience,
And in a little while the answer came,
A key whereby his fetters were unlocked.
It opened thus: “Established may he be
That seeketh good. The rightly minded sage
Will compass in adversity God's praise.”
It further said: “I pray the one just God
That He may guide thee ever. I have planted
In Paradise a Tree that is more bearing
Than any set by Farídún. Its fruit
Is gold and rubies and its leafage beauty
And Grace. Its summit chafeth on high heaven;
Its roots withal are precious. May this Tree
Abide for ever, flourishing of stem,
And glad of heart—the favourite of fortune!
As for thy words: ‘By craft and subtlety
I sought for vengeance for my grandsire's death,
And then for thy description of the bloodshed,
And of thine exploits in the fight—the persons
Of kings are precious though renown may come
From strife and travail. Guard thy person well
And wisdom too, for wisdom nourisheth
The mind with knowledge. Thirdly thou hast said:
‘Of all these thousands I have spared not one.’
Be thy heart ever warm and mereiful,
Be temperate in soul and soft in voice.
Let it not be thy business to shed blood,
Or fight with chieftains, saving for revenge,
Because the bloodshed hath surpassed all bounds
In this thy wreak for eight and thirty brothers.
But in that, though thy grandsire in old age
Had banished craft and ill will from his heart,
Since they shed his blood thou hast shed theirs too,
And closed with them like lions when they fight,
For that be ever fortunate and happy,
And do the dictates of thy soul and wisdom.
I long to look upon thy face and mind
So doughty and so shrewd. On reading this
Bid thy troops mount, and come back with thy chiefs
To court.”

The speedy dromedaries went,

And all Írán re-echoed with the news.
Now when they had returned the cameleers
Came to the exalted chief who had no peers.