In Praise of the Vizier

You who carry the spirit of Aristotle, so rich is your nature: to all the learned a king, and to the king a vizier. That high fortuned minister, when in truth it is a mistake, with you present in the world, to call Mercury a scribe. That precious source of spreading knowledge: in the breadth of his learning, aged Plato is no more than a schoolboy before you. Your rank surpasses all people, and your knowledge surpasses all: a sky in greatness, a sun in your inner mind. That radiant beauty is the dawning place of nobility's light; that wisdom welcoming heart is the east where knowledge rises like the sun. If you light up your court to the measure of your rank, the sun's daily path would fall short of even brushing its edge. If you are a species confined to a single one, it is no wonder: among the people of the world you stand peerless, beyond compare. If the flame of your judgment were absent from the sky for one night, the sun's disk would come from the oven of dawn half baked, like unleavened bread. Hands fall short of the hem, yet your bounty is for all: like a sun that shines on the small and the great alike. You must show regard to both the good and the bad of the world: a remedy your enemies cannot escape, a need your friends cannot do without. How could the world not boast of you? You are a sun to the sun. How could the rose bush not flourish from you? You are a cloud, a rain bearing cloud. Your will cuts the bond between the day after tomorrow and tomorrow; and from dread of your barrier, yesterday slips past the day before. In the height of your resolve you are like the bow in the king's hand; in the reach of your power you are like the arrow from the king's grip. To the sun of kingship you are both the heaven and the light; to the sky of justice you are both the orbit and the one who turns it. For you the bud shows the rose's color clear in glass; for you the petal sifts the scent of the rose out from silk. The heavens have to plan and scheme to grant people's wishes, until they consult your sound counsel. The one who entrusted the world's knots to the high sphere has today placed the loosing and binding of all creation in your hand. If you set your mind to distinguish good from bad, you could lift the shadow from the moon's face like drawing a hair out of dough. Your hatred is bitter on the heart, like water drunk on an empty stomach; yet to a small child your love is as sweet as milk. In your age stands the kingship of Anushirvan with Bozorgmehr as minister: the royal falconry of both king and vizier. Whoever longs to witness the age of Alexander, with a vizier like Aristotle, unmatched and beyond compare. Here is Aristotle, here is Alexander: open your eyes and look. This one rules the realm by knowledge, that one seizes it by fortune. My devotion has grown old in your service, yes; and devotion grown old works wonders in service still. As long as Alexander has a name and Aristotle a mark, may you remain in the vizier's office and the king upon his throne.