Whenas the air glowed with the setting sun,
And dark night 'gan to stalk athwart the sky,
The warriors of the army of Túrán,
The men of wisdom and the scimitar,
Came in a body to the Khán's pavilion,
Full of revenge and fight—the lion-man
Kámús, the conqueror of elephants,
Manshúr the brave, the arbiter of battle,
With Shamírán from Shakn, Shangul from Hind,
The king of Sind and from Sakláb Kundur.
They all advised at large about the war,
And spake much of Írán, till all agreed
That they must wash their hands in blood, then parted,
Each to his tent, for rest or pleasure there;
But when the moon, then slender grown and humped,
Left the dark chevelure of gloomy night,
And, being in the presence of the sun,
Arose with watery looks and bathed its cheeks,
The mighty men
Arose and said: “The conduct of the host
Is thine to-day. Thine are the realms of Chín
And of the Turkmans. Mark thou here to-day
How scimitars shall shower from darksome clouds!”
On his side Rustam thus harangued the troops:—
“The time hath come; if we have lost a few
There is but one in several hundred slain;
Let not your hearts be straitened; for my part
I will not live except with fame and honour.
With cheeks like ebony the Turkman troops
Withdrew from Ashkabús, so fill ye, all!
Your hearts with vengeance, frown, ye cavaliers!
For I have put the shoes on Rakhsh to-day,
And on him will incarnadine my sword.
Be instant for to-day we start afresh,
And all the earth is now the treasury
Of Kai Khusrau. Arm for the strife. Win crowns
And earrings. Purses shall ye have of me,
Gifts from Zábul and turbans from Kábul.”
He donned his armour and went forth
With confidence upon the battlefield.
He put his chain-mail under his cuirass,
And over it he donned Babr-i-Bayán.
He wore a helmet wrought of steel of Chín—
One to make foemen meditate on death.
He girded up his loins by God's command,
And mounted Rakhsh like some mad elephant.
The heavens were confounded at his mien,
Earth darkened where his charger's hoofs were seen.