When great Urmuzd came to the throne wolves' claws
Were hindered of their quarry, he maintained
The world in peace, the work of Áhriman
Was in abeyance. First of all he praised
Almighty God, all-knowing, all-providing:—
“He fashioned night and day and turning heaven,
Sol, Mars, and Saturn. Victory and Grace,
The just heart and the imperial diadem,
Proceed from Him. May justice ever fill
Our heart, and may our subjects' hearts rejoice.
The hearts of men ignoble win not praise;
If so thou canst consort not thou with such,
And take not counsel with the ill-disposed,
But, if thou seekest it, incline to good.
The pious will not call him bountiful
Whose bounty is designed to gain applause,
While men will hold the thankless flatterer
As naught. The hard man trembleth being friendless.
The wise man taketh not the slack as guide,
And if thou ask the indolent to help thee
Thou art no judge of men and lack'st ambition.
Beware of thinking highly of thyself,
And be not fierce because thou hast a throne.
When one ill-natured groweth poor and vile
He layeth all to fortune and will spend
His years in indolence,*

bewailing fortune,
Is not possessed of rede and understanding,
And is no ornament to any throne.
The simple deprivation of all wealth
Will ruin him in heart and soul and brain;
He will take pride in want and evil nature,
And hold his head up high in his unwisdom,
His lack of goods, of knowledge, rede, achievement,
Of Faith and of all thankfulness to God.
May both your nights and days be prosperous,
The marrow of your foemen's lives plucked out.”
The chiefs applauded and saluted him
As earth's great king. When heaven had turned nine
years
Above his head his face that had resembled
Pomegranate-bloom became like yellow roses,
The head that wore the crown was sick to death;
He died without a son beside his couch.

That famed man, who discoursed so pleasantly,
Left in his youth this ancient hostelry;
Such while the heavens endure will be the event,
For they are strong and we are impotent.
The people mourned for him for forty days,
Regardless of the throne, which for a while
Remained unoccupied: the nobles' heads
Were full of care. Meanwhile an archimage
Surveyed the women's bower of Sháh Urmuzd;
One tulip-cheeked and radiant as the moon,
With lashes like a dagger of Kábul,
And locks like mazy Babylonian script,
All intertwined and knotted on her head,
Was there, and that fair lady was with child;
The world rejoiced in her. The archimage
Brought her and set her on the lofty throne
Of kings with joy, o'er her they hung the crown,
And on that golden circlet drachms showered down.