The death of Yazdijard.

When time had passed along through several turns, the lofty sky displayed a novel game.
(King) Yazdijard grew weary of the throne*713, and after high success in life came down.
The crown and throne which from his sires he had to him did as to others it had done.
When from the king the throne’s high seat was free, the city and the troops together met*714;
(And said) they’d let no person of his race (bear sway), no snake or dragon would they serve.
Although (the prince), Bahrām, had eminence; though he had strength and valour*715, learning too,
(Still) owing to his father’s perfidy, the eyes of none would look upon his worth.
Said everyone, We will not look at him, nor give him tidings of his father’s death;
Since that wild man, amongst the Arabs bred, could not administer the Persians’ realm.
Land, treasure to the Arabs he would give, (whilst) those in Persia born would suffer pain.
No one desired him to ascend the throne, (but) since God wished it he assumed the crown.
An aged man of wisdom (then) they chose, and called him the Just Ruler of the Earth.
Though not of those entitled to the crown, still by his race he was of princely rank*716.
They placed the royal crown upon his head, (and) gave to him the belt of seven gems*717.
As soon as Bahrām Gūr heard that the sky had brought one of its cycles to an end,
Had started a fresh cycle once again; that things were contrary to what had been;
That when his sire the thought of crown gave up, and none was there entitled to the crown,
The foot of one, a stranger, had stepped in, a new disturbance on the world had come,—
He first performed the rites of mourning used, and painted turquoise on cornelian*718.
Then after this resolved that lion-like he’d draw (his) sword upon (his) enemies*719:
That he would use (his) sword against (his) foes, open the door of strife and enmity.
Again he said, Why use ferocity? ’Tis best that I at first use wisdom’s aid.
Although the Persians erred in this that they withdrew their hearts from reverence for me,
I will not look into their hardened hearts, (but) mildness use, for mildness is the key.
With all their currishness they are my game; they (all) are (still) the sheep of my own mead.
Although they lie and sleep in their own wool, all lie and sleep still in my cotton fields*720.
’Tis best they should be faithless, hard of heart, that they at last before me may be shamed.
From perfidy shame overtakes a man, and from that shame regret and pain ensue.
All ignominious treatment which I see beyond this is a form of tyranny*721.
With want of wisdom if they’ve gone astray, again by wisdom I will make them true.
The man who is impatient with the game will (find) his arrow fall wide of the mark.