The greatness of the Sháh I next display,
And give new freshness to a bygone day,
Such majesty that mid the small and great
There is no memory of equal state.
Well may the reader of the roll of kings
Shake from his skirts all transitory things,
And well may I too say a word for I
Am well assured of sages' sympathy.
Be not at home in this world for its bane
Is greater than its antidote; refrain
From greed and strife; make not life's stage to be
Thy home, 'tis but a wayside inn for thee.
Fare on. Thou agest and the young anon
Arrive; this cometh, that one passeth on:
Awhile they strut or batten and are gone,
For lion's head and elephant's both must,
The signal given, come alike to dust.
When thou hast heard from me the wondrous tale
About Khusrau Parwíz keep it in mind.
He had such puissance and eminence,
Such majesty, such Grace, such throne and crown,
That, though thou ask of experts, thou wilt hear
Of no one greater. From Túrán and Hind,
From Chín and Rúm and every peopled clime
They brought him tribute night and day alike—
Boy-slaves and girl-slaves out of every court,
And pearls and gems. His treasures and dínárs
Were infinite; there was no king like him.
The wingéd eagle, royal falcon, hawk,
Pard, lion, and stream-haunting crocodile
Submitted to him willingly: his mind

Was bright as Sol. The first of all his treasures,
Amassed from Chín, Bulghár, from Rúm, and Rús,
Was called “'Arús”;* the next of watered pearls,
And in an edifice a bowshot high,
Was named “Khazrá”* by chiefs and Arab sages;
The next was known as “Bár”* and lord and liege
Have never looked upon its like; the next
Was great Shádward* which minstrels celebrate;
The next was that which men called “Bád Áwar”;
* They strove to estimate it but they failed.
The next whereof thou hearest speak thou callest
“Díba-i-Khusrauí,”* and next the famed
Hoard of Afrásiyáb; none hath possessed
Its like by sea or land; another hoard
Was that entitled “Súkhta”* and its lustre
Illumed the realm. Sarkash was of his minstrels;
So was Bárbad; that market never failed
Khusrau Parwíz, and in his golden bower
There were twelve thousand girls like jocund Spring.
He had twelve hundred elephants of war;
Thou wouldst have said: “Earth hath not room for them.”
The war-steeds in the stables of the king
Were six and forty thousand, while of camels
Red-haired* there were ten thousand, and none then
Possessed one like to them. Twelve thousand more
Were beasts of burden, sixty-six were swift
For litter-bearing; none had seen or heard
Of such from white-haired veterans. Of troopers
There were a thousand thousand—men of Rúm,
Of Chín and Turkistán. He had withal
Shabdíz, the charger that ne'er failed in fight,
While in his women's bower there was Shírín
To add her lustre to his Rosary.
Since he was ruined by a servitor
Be not solicitous in quest for more,
But rather choose a life exempt from care
If thou wouldst have just praises for thy share,
For good and evil pass away with death,
And time is counting up our every breath.
What though thou gainest as thy portion here
Throne, crown, and treasury, though thy career
Be ever so laborious, yet at last
Thy lot among the bricks and dust is cast,
So sow but seed of good. Khusrau Parwíz
Should furnish thee with ample instances:
When thou shalt read the roll 'twill startle thee.
The famous throne, the seat of sovereignty,
Might and the diadem of empiry,
Were not sufficient for him but he must
Raise from Írán and from Túrán the dust!