Of heaven's dome revolving rapidly,
And ever restless in its instancy,
What shall I say? It giveth one a crown,
Another to the fishes in the sea;
The end of both, ensnared in bale's dark net,
Is in the dust, and had the sage ne'er set
Eyes on the world, nor passed through days of strife
As lord or liege, his lot were happier yet.
I treat the matter of Khusrau Parwíz,
And proffer to the reader novelties.
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