Pírán on reaching his allies beheld
The plains and valleys full of horses' hoofs.
The tents and tent-enclosures filled the world
With red and yellow, blue and violet.
Amidmost each enclosure was a standard
Wrought of brocade of Chín and painted silk.

He stood amazed and asked himself in wonder:—
“Is this a paradise, or banquet-hall,
The starry heaven, or orbit of the moon?”
He came afoot and kissed the ground before
The Khán, who, seeing him, embraced him, marvelled
At such a chest and neck, much greeted him,
Made much of him, set him upon the throne,
And said: “Oh! well is me that I should sit
In such good spirits by the paladin!”
He then asked: “Of the army of Írán
Who hath the signet, and who hath the crown?
What troops have they? Who are their warriors,
And wherefore sit they on the mountain-top?”
Pírán replied: “O monarch! live for ever,
And may the Maker bless thee who hast joyed
Thy slave's heart with thy questions. Through thy
fortune
I am both well and happy, and my soul
Desireth but the dust upon thy feet.
The king inquireth of the Íránians:
They have no signet, diadem, or throne,
And, having longed for war beyond all measure,
Are left with only rocks to gaze upon;
For foiled, dishonoured, and reduced in strength,
They went in full flight to Mount Hamáwan.
Their general is Tús, a man of valour,
Who feareth not a lion in the field.
Their chieftains are Gúdarz son of Kishwád,
Gív, and Ruhhám—all men of noble birth.
Now by the fortune of the illustrious Khán
This is the last host that their chief shall see.
They come not on the plain at battle-time,
And save the flinty rocks have naught to hand.”
The Khán said: “Stay, and bring thy comrades too.
Content of heart to-day will we quaff wine,
And not anticipate.”

He decked the tents

Like gardens in the spring: “'Tis Paradise,”
Thou wouldst have said, “for colour and device.”