When Rustam saw the doings of Káran,
And what war is, he went to Zál and said:—
“Tell me, O paladin of paladins!
His flag and mail are black, his helm and brassards
Of iron flecked with gold, his plume is sable.
Avoid him, he is brave, his fortune sleepless.”
“Be not concerned for me,” was Rustam's answer.
At this good news
The Sháh gave orders to his troops to fall
In mass like wind upon the enemy
And utterly o'erthrow them, fruit and root.
He rose himself like fire, and all his host
Heaved like a stormy sea. Zál and Mihráb,
The Lion, went forth keen and valorous;
The din of battle rose with falchion-flash
Heroic Rustam in the fight that day
With dirk and lasso, mace and scimitar,
Clave into pieces, rent and brake and bound
The heads, breasts, feet, and hands of warriors,
For eight and fifty score of gallant chiefs
That Lion slaughtered in a single charge.
Zál gazing on his son illustrious
In Grace and might felt his heart throb with joy