Then Rustam called for an embroidered robe
And, having laid the youth thereon, set off,
But as he went one overtook him, saying:—
“Suhráb hath passed from this wide world, and asketh
No more a palace of thee but a bier.”
The father started, sighed, and groaning closed
His eyes, then lighting swift as wind removed
His helm and scattered dust upon his head,
While all the great men also wept and wailed.
He cried in mournful tones: “O warrior-youth
Exalted and a paladin by birth!
The sun and moon, the breastplate and the helm,
The crown and throne, will never see thy peer.
Hath this that hath befallen me—to slay
My son in mine old age—befallen another?
My son—the offspring of the worldlord Sám
The cavalier, born of a noble dame!
I, that have now no peer in all the world
For valour, was a boy to him! Well might
My hands be lopped! May never seat be mine

Save in the darksome dust. What shall I say
When tidings reach his mother? How shall I
Send any one to break the news to her?
What reason can I give for slaying one
Without offence and darkening his day?
What sire e'er acted thus? I well deserve
The world's abuse. Who ever slew a son
So young and wise and valiant? And his mother!
What will her sire, that honoured paladin,
Say to her in her youth and innocence?
How they will curse the progeny of Sám
And call me lacklove, impious! Who could deem
That at his years my darling would become
Tall as a cypress, set his heart on war,
Array the host, and turn my day to darkness?”
He bade them spread brocade such as kings use
Upon his young son's face—that son who set
His heart on throne and realm and only won
A narrow bier. They bore it from the field,
Then set the camp-enclosure in a blaze
While all the troops cast dust upon their heads.
They burned the tents, the many-hued brocade,
And all the goodly seats of yellow pardskin.
A cry went up and mighty Rustam wailed:—
“The world will see no cavalier like thee
For skill and valour on the day of battle.
Woe for thy valour and thy prudent mind!
Woe for those cheeks of thine, thy mien, thy stature!
Woe's me! this sorrow and heart-rending grief!
He left his mother and his father slew him!”
With royal raiment rent upon his body
And weeping blood he scrabbled in the dust
Exclaiming: “Zál and virtuous Rúdába
Will utter curses, saying: ‘Rustam gained
The mastery and stabbed him to the heart.’
What plea of mine will win their hearts to me?
How will the chieftains bear to hear that I
Have rooted from the garth the straight-stemmed
cypress?”
Then all the paladins of Sháh Káús
Sat by the wayside in the dust with Rustam,
And much advised him, but he heeded not.
Such are high heaven's deeds! It hath for us
A lasso in this hand, in that a crown,
And him that sitteth crowned and prosperous
It haleth with the twisted lasso down.
Why should we love this world when we and they
That fare with us alike must pass away?
Though one may reckon on long life he must
Betake him in the last resort to dust.
Now whether heaven acteth knowingly,
Or not. 'tis vain to ask its how and why;
Forbear we then to weep that one should go:
The end thereof is not for us to know.
The Sháh informed about Suhráb drew near
To Rustam with his retinue and said:—
“From Mount Alburz e'en to the reed the sky
Will bear all off. We may not set our love
Upon this dust, for, though some haste, some linger,
All die at last. Take comfort for the dead,
And hear what sages say. Though thou shouldst dash
The sky upon the earth and burn the world
'Twill not recall the dead. Know that his soul
Is long in heaven. From afar I marked
His breast, neck, stature, and his iron mace
As fate impelled him onward with his host
To perish by thy hands. What remedy?
How long wilt thou bewail the dead?”

He answered:—

“Though he is gone Húmán remaineth still
With other chieftains of Túrán and Chín.
Regard them not as foes but let Zawára,
God willing and the Sháh, conduct them hence.”
Káús replied: “Aspiring chief! thy face
Is saddened through this fight, and though our foes
Have harmed me much and sent smoke from Írán,
Yet through thy sorrow is my heart so sore
That I will think upon revenge no more.”