Gív like a madman roamed about to find
Some traces of the prince. While seven years passed
His loins were galled by sword and leathern girdle.
He fed on onagers and wore their skins,
At times had brackish water and green herbs,
And went about the desert and the mountains
In travail and in hardship far from men.
Now at the time when Rustam led his host
Across the river to the Íránian side
Afrásiyáb returned to Gang, Túrán
Came to his hand again, and then he bade
Pírán: “Bring hither ill-starred Kai Khusrau
Back from Máchín and give him to his mother,
But have the roads well watched.”

Pírán dispatched

A messenger upon a noble camel,
And had the son of Siyáwush brought back—
A prudent and a life-inspiring youth—
And gave him to his mother. Passed a while.
As gallant Gív was roaming o'er Túrán
In melancholy case, it so fell out

One day that, full of anxious thoughts, he came
Within the precincts of a famous wood,
And wandered woe-begone along the mead;
The world was jocund but his heart was sad.
He saw the earth all verdant, brooks a-brim,
And all the scene right apt for rest and sleep.
Dismounting from his horse he turned it loose,
And laid him down but with an anxious heart.
He said: “The foul Dív verily possessed
The paladin when he beheld that dream.
I find no traces here of Kai Khusrau:
What do I gain by all my wanderings?
Now while my comrades are engaged in war,
And while my friends are sitting at the feast,
These seeking pleasure, those in quest of fame,
My lot is throwing walnuts on a dome!
I do but spend my soul in vain, 'tis like
A bended bow; Khusrau hath not been born
At all, or fate hath flung him to the winds.
I get but toil and hardship by my quest:
Blest is the man that perisheth by poison.”
With heart all sorrowful he roamed about
Those meadows in his search, and spied afar
Beside a sparkling stream a beauteous youth
Of cypress-height, a wine-cup in his hand,
And on his head a bright, sweet wreath. His mien
Betokened Grace and wisdom. Thou hadst said:—
“'Tis Siyáwush upon his ivory throne,
And turquoise-crowned; his looks exhale the scent
Of love itself, his locks adorn the crown.”
Gív thought: “This is none other than the prince!
Naught but a throne befitteth such a mien.”
Dismounting from his charger he advanced
On foot and, as he drew anear, the bolts
Were loosened on the portal of his travail,
And all his splendid treasure came in sight.
When Kai Khusrau looked from beside the stream
He smiled, while gladness made his heart to throb,
And thought: “This warrior is none else but Gív:
This land hath not a chief of such a stamp.
He is engaged in making quest for me
To bear me to Írán to make me Sháh.”
As that redoubted warrior approached,
Khusrau the prince moved forward from his place,
And said to him: “O Gív! thou art well come;
Thy coming here is wisdom's fitting gift.
How didst thou make thy passage to this land?
What tidings hast thou touching Tús, Gúdarz,
And Sháh Káús? Are they in happiness,
And do they in their hearts think of Khusrau?
How is it with the elephantine Rustam,
The aspiring one, with Zál, and all the rest?”
Gív heard the words amazed, invoked the name
Of God, and answered: “O exalted chief!
All yearn for thee. Methinketh that thou art
The son of Siyáwush, of royal race,
And wise; but say, thou head of upright men!
Who told thee of Gúdarz, Gív, and Kishwád?
May Grace and happiness be thine.”

He answered:—

“O lion-man! my mother told me this—
That when my father by the Grace of God
Entrusted unto her his last commands,

He said: “Whatever mischief may befall me,
Still in the end will Kai Khusrau appear,
And bring a key to open all the locks.
When he hath grown a noble warrior
The doughty Gív will come forth from Írán,
And bear him to the throne among the nobles
And lion-men. His valour will restore
The world, and execute revenge for me.”
Gív said: “O head of all the chiefs! what mark
Hast thou to indicate the Grace of kingship?
The mark of Siyáwush was manifest
As 'twere a drop of pitch upon a rose-bed,
Uncover then and show to me thine arm,
Because thy mark is known to every one.”
The prince made bare his arm and Gív perceived
The black mark on it. Now this mark had been
A birth-mark from the time of Kai Kubád—
A clear distinction of the Kaian race.
When Gív beheld that mark he did obeisance,
And weeping told his errand. Kai Khusrau
Embraced him, giving thanks with joy, and asked
About Írán, the imperial throne, Gúdarz,
And Rustam, lover of the fray. Gív said:—
“O royal world-lord, noble, fortunate,
And wise! were God, who knoweth good and ill,
To give to me the whole of Paradise,
The seven climes and sovereign sway withal,
The seat of greatness and the crown of might,
My heart would not exult therein so much
As in beholding thy face in Túrán.
Who knoweth in Írán if I am living,
Or if I have been laid in dust or burned,
Or have encountered Siyáwush alive,
And questioned him about his care and travail?
Thanks be to God that fate determineth
This irksome toil in happiness and joy.”
Together they departed from the wood
While Kai Khusrau asked after Sháh Káús,
About Gív's seven years of grief and pain,
His lodging, sleep, and food. Gív answered all,
And spake about the purpose of the Lord,
The vision of Gúdarz, his own long toil,
His victuals, clothes, and rest, his pains and pleasures;
How years had spent the Grace of Kai Káús,
And how he was distracted for his son;
How all was dark and scentless in his palace,
And how the desolation was complete.
The heart of Kai Khusrau burned at these woes,
His two checks flamed like fire. He said to Gív:—
“Fate giveth thee for travail rest and ease;
Be as my sire, but say not anything
To any one, and note what time will bring.”