English
Section 10
Manijeh heard news of the caravan and came running into the town at once.
Bare and staggering, the daughter of Afrasiab came to Rostam, her eyes brimming with tears.
She greeted him, asked her questions, and spoke, wiping the bloody tears from her lashes with her sleeve.
May you find joy in your life and your treasure; may you never regret the hardships you have borne.
May the high heavens turn to your desire; may the evil eye never harm you.
Whatever hope your heart has fixed upon, may the pains you suffered not go to waste.
May wisdom always be your teacher; blessed be the land of Iran and its happy days.
What news do you have of the king's champions, of Giv, of Gudarz, and the Iranian army?
No word of Bijan has reached Iran; his grandfather will not come to his rescue,
for such a young man among Gudarz's line is breaking down in his misery.
His feet are worn raw from the heavy chains, his two hands bound by the blacksmiths' iron spikes.
Dragged in chains and fettered fast, the whole pit is filled with the blood of that wretched man.
In my own destitution I find no sleep; from his moaning my eyes are full of tears.
Rostam grew afraid of her words; he shouted and drove her from his sight.
He told her: Get away from me. I know neither the king nor any new commander.
I have no knowledge of Gudarz or Giv; you have emptied my brain with your talk.
She looked at Rostam and wept bitterly; from the shame of it, blood poured down her cheeks.
She told him: Great and wise lord, cold words like these do not suit you.
If you will not speak, at least do not drive me away, for I have a heart torn raw with pain.
Is this then the custom of Iran, that no one gives a poor beggar any news?
Rostam said to her: Woman, what is the matter? Has some demon shown you doomsday?
You have ruined my trading; that is why I quarreled so with you.
Do not vex me more with this sharpness, for my heart was set on my business.
And besides, in the city where Kai Khosrow rules, I have no dwelling at all.
I do not know Giv or Gudarz, and I have never traveled that borderland.
He ordered that whatever food there was be set at once before the poor woman.
One by one he began to question her: Why has fate turned so grim against you?
Why do you ask about champions, the king, and the army? Why do you keep watch on the road to Iran?
Manijeh said to him: Why ask about my plight, about my ill fortune and my grief?
For with a heart full of pain, I ran from that pit to you, O noble man.
You shouted at me like a soldier ready for battle; you had no fear of the Judge of all judges.
I am Manizheh, daughter of Afrasiab; the sun itself never saw my face uncovered.
Now, with eyes full of blood and a heart full of pain, I run from door to door, round and round.
I scrape together bread made of barley meal; this is the fate that God has decreed for me.
How could my days be more wretched than this? Perhaps the Creator will finally bring my life to an end.
Then there is poor Bijan in that deep well, who sees neither sun nor moon by night or day.
Bound with a yoke, spikes, and heavy chains, he begs God only for death from all this suffering.
This has piled grief upon my grief; because of it, the tears keep pouring from my eyes.
Now, if your road ever takes you to Iran, seek out news of Gudarz, son of Keshvad.
At the king's court perhaps you will find Giv, or brave Rostam himself.
Tell them that Bijan is in dire straits; if you delay, everything will fall apart.
If you want to keep him alive, do not rest for long, for above his head is stone and beneath him iron.
Rostam said to her: You of the lovely face, may the heavens never strip you of your kindness.
Why do you not send pleaders to your father, stirring up nobles from every side?
Perhaps your father will take pity on you, his blood will stir and his heart will burn.
If your father were not already angry with you, I would give you far more than you could measure.
He told his cook to bring him every kind of food that Bijan might need.
He ordered a warm roasted fowl, with soft bread tucked around it.
Then, deft as a fairy, Rostam hid his ring secretly inside the food.
He gave it to her and said: Take it to that well, for you are the guide of the helpless.
Manizheh came to the mouth of the well, running, carrying the food with her.
She lowered what she had wrapped in a cloth, and just as she received it she handed it to Bijan.
Bijan looked and was struck with wonder; from that well the sun-faced man called out.
He said: Kind one, where did you find such food that you rushed here with it like this?
So much hardship and pain has come upon you; for my sake you wander the world, tireless.
Manizheh told him: From a caravan there came a wealthy merchant.
He had traveled from Iran to Turan for the sake of coin, enduring every kind of sorrow.
A pure man, sharp of mind and of noble bearing, carrying with him gems of every kind.
He had set up a rich and generous establishment, building a small booth before the palace.
He gave me this laden tablecloth and said: bless the Creator of the world for me.
Go near that pit where the prisoner lies, and bring along whatever else is needed.
Then Bijan spread out the clean bread, his heart full of hope in God, free of fear and dread.
When he reached for the food to eat, he noticed the ring hidden inside.
He looked at its stone and read the name; he laughed with joy and sat there stunned.
It was a turquoise seal with Rostam's name on it, cut into the metal fine as a hair.
When he saw the fruit of the tree of loyalty, he knew the key to his sorrow had arrived.
He laughed a laugh worthy of a king, so loud its sound rose up out of the pit.
When Manijeh heard him laughing from that dark pit where his body was bound,
for a moment she was baffled by such strange behavior and said: what laughter is this, my lucky one?
It amazed her, and she told a saying: only a madman laughs at his own plight.
How can your two lips open into a smile, when you see night as day and day as night?
What is this secret? Come, tell me. Perhaps good fortune has shown you its face.
Bijan said to her: from this hard fate I now have hope that luck has opened its hand.
If you swear an oath and make a pact with me, that you will not break your faith to me,
I will tell you the whole story, once you are bound by that oath to agree.
For if you seal your lips against causing harm, women rarely can keep their tongues in check.
Manijeh cried out and wept bitterly: what evil days have fallen upon me!
Alas for my days that are gone, my heart broken, my eyes raining tears.
I gave Bijan my body, my home, and all I had, and now he grows so suspicious of me.
My treasure of gold coins and my crown of jewels, I let it all be plundered, every bit.
My father has disowned me, my kin have turned away, and I run naked before the crowd.
I lost all hope for Bijan; the world went black for me and my eyes went blind.
And still he hides his secret from me like this. You know better, O Creator of the world.
Bijan said to her: it is all true; you have spent everything you had for my sake.
What I just said I should not have said, O tender friend and clear-headed companion.
It is right that you should guide me in every task, for my mind has been emptied by suffering.
Know this: that jewel-seller, whose cook gave you food to bring me,
came all the way to Turan for my sake, for otherwise he had no need for jewels.
The Creator of the world has had mercy on me; perhaps I will see the wide face of the earth again.
He will free me from these long sorrows, and free you from all this running, this fever and grief.
Go close to him and tell him secretly:
you who are the champion of the world's kings,
with a kind heart and a body that seeks solutions,
if you are the master of Rakhsh, say so.
Manijeh came like the wind
and delivered Bijan's message to Rostam.
When he heard the words of that lovely face,
who had come running from that long road,
Rostam understood that Bijan had spoken,
had opened his heart to that tall, tulip cheeked woman.
He took pity and said: you of the beautiful face,
may God never take love from you.
Tell him: yes, the master of Rakhsh
is the rescuer God has sent to you.
From Zabol to Iran, from Iran to Turan,
for your sake I have crossed this long road.
Tell him: like a leopard in pursuit,
my waist and claws have worn down for your sake.
When you speak with him, keep the secret;
in the dark night, save some meat and call out.
By day gather firewood from the forest;
when night comes, light a fire.
Manijeh grew glad at his words;
her heart was freed entirely from its sorrows.
She came running to that pit
where her comforter lay imprisoned.
She told him: I delivered the whole message
to that blessed, good named man.
He answered: I am indeed the one
whom he sought by the name and sign of Bijan.
How long will you wander with a wounded heart,
washing your face in tears of blood?
Now that a true sign of you has come,
you will see the sword's edge of men who slay.
I will tear open the earth now with my hands,
and hurl the heavy stone up to the Pleiades.
He told me: when the air grows dark,
when night is freed from the grip of the sun,
light a fire as huge as a mountain,
so the stone and the pit's mouth grow bright as day,
so that I may see the mouth of the pit
and by that light find my way.
Bijan said: light the fire,
for we have both escaped from a dark day.
He raised his face toward the Creator of the world:
you who are pure, giving, and just,
in every trouble, be my helper;
aim your arrow at the heart and soul of the enemy.
Give me my justice against the one who wronged me;
you know my grief, my scars, my pain.
Grant that I may find my land and home again,
and not be left to the shame of a cursed fate.
You, girl who have tasted suffering for me,
sacrificing your life, heart, wealth, and body,
for the pain you took upon yourself for me,
you counted my loss as your own gain,
you gave me treasure, crown, and jewels,
your royal kin, your mother and father.
If I escape the grip of this dragon,
freed in these young days of mine,
Like the good who worship God, I will hurry on foot and stretch out my hands to help.
Like a servant before kings, I will gird myself to repay your kindness.
Manijeh rushed hard for firewood, climbing up the branches of the trees like the birds.
Her eyes on the sun, wood on her back, watching for when night would lift its head over the mountain.
When the sun's face vanished from sight, the dark night spread its skirt over the mountain.
At the hour when the world falls still, and what was visible slips into hiding,
when dark night marches its army before the day, and the world lighting sun turns away its head,
Manijeh quickly kindled a fire that burned through the eyes of the pitch black night.
In her heart came a sound like a brazen drum, that the steel hoofed Rakhsh was coming down the road.