Now when that night had passed and it was day,
And when the world-illuming sun shone forth,
The troops of both hosts mounted on their saddles,
While Sháh Gushtásp observed them from the height.
What time the glorious Sháh saw from the mountain
The warriors in their saddles he desired
Bihzád, his sable charger, to be brought:
Thou wouldst have said: “'Tis surely Mount Bístún!”
They put the bards thereon, and then he mounted.
Whenas they set the battle in array,
And champion challenged champion, first they sent
A shower of arrows like a springtide hail,
Such that the sun's course was invisible!
Who will believe that hath not seen that marvel?
The fountain of the sun was garnitured
With javelin-heads that sparkled like a river!
One would have said: “The sky is overcast,
And from the clouds are raining diamonds,”
While through the mace-men and the javelin-men,
Who charged on one another, all the air
Assumed the hue of night and all the earth
Was inundate with gore. First came Ardshír,
That goodly horseman and the world-lord's son,
Like some mad elephant upon the field;
Thou wouldst have said: “Can it be Tús the chief?”
Thus wheelèd he before the host, not knowing
What sun and moon decreed. An arrow struck him
Upon the loins, transfixed his Kaian mail,
And that prince tumbled headlong from his bay,
His stainless form defiled and smirched with blood.
Woe for that fair face radiant as the moon,
Which never more the wise Sháh looked upon!
Then came like flying dust high-born Shírú,
Whose heart was full and visage wan, before
The line of battle, bearing in his hand
A venomed sword; he roared as 'twere a lion,
Brought down like onager full many a foe,
And in his vengeance for that royal horseman
Slew fifty score of hostile cavaliers;
But as he was returning from the fray,
When thus he had incarnadined the earth,
There came an arrow at his nape; the prince
Fell. Woe for that brave, noble warrior,
Who died and nevermore beheld his sire!
The next to sally forth was prince Shídasp,
One like the moon, a man of royal mien.
He, seated on a steed like indigo,
Flect as gazelle and huge as elephant,
Rushed on the field of battle, whirled and brandished
His lance as 'twere a twig, held in his steed,
And shouted, saying: “Which is bold Kuhram,
Whose look is as the look of wolf and tiger?”
A dív advanced, exclaiming: “I am one
To bite the famished lion.”

Then they wheeled

With lances, and the Sháh's son speared the Turkman,
Dismounted him, and, cutting off his head,
Flung down his goodly girdle to the dust;
Then wheeled before the warriors of Chín,
As though he were a mountain on the saddle.
In sooth eye never saw a man so goodly;
His beauty drew all eyes. Howbeit a Turkman
Let fly at him an arrow, and that prince,
That offspring of the Sháh, went to the winds.
Woe for that lost one reared so daintily,
Whose face his father was no more to see!