English
The King's Letter to Rostam
He called the scribe to his side and spoke to him at length about this matter.
The king ordered a letter written to Rostam, from a great lord to a loyal well-wisher.
It said: You, noble born hero full of skill, who rise above all the champions of the army,
the heart of kings and the backbone of the royal line; at your command everyone stands ready for battle.
You are the living memory of my ancestors, forever girded for war.
The heavens gave you a leopard's courage; even the sea monster roars in fear of you.
You cleansed the world of the demons of Mazandaran and cut off the heads of the wicked.
How many crowned kings you have torn from their thrones and cast down from their high seats.
Many an enemy has lost his life to you; many a land and home has been laid waste by you.
Chief of champions and shelter of the army, you hold high standing in the eyes of kings.
You bound every sorcerer with your mace, and made the crown of kings shine bright.
Whether Afrasiab or the kings of China, they have all carved your name upon their seal rings.
Whatever knot your hand has tied left the hearts of those who tried to loosen it wounded.
You are the one who unties the tightest bonds; you are the auspicious sky above the royal line.
God gave you the strength of elephants, and gave the noble race heart, wisdom, and skill,
so that you might take the hand of anyone who cries for help and lift them out of the dark pit.
Now one urgent task lies before us, and here is a deed worthy of you.
Gudarz and Giv place their hope in you, for today you are the true champion of every land.
You know how high I hold their rank, and how loyal their tongue, heart, and counsel are to me.
It befits you not to spare yourself trouble in this; ask for whatever you need of men and treasure.
For never has grief struck this royal house so brightly painful as what I have now heard.
Giv had no one but this single son, who was both his child and his rescuer.
In my eyes he had great standing, a well-wisher to me and to my ancestors.
Wherever I seek him he is there, standing by me in good times and bad.
When you read this letter of mine, do not delay; rise at once and set out with Giv.
So that in this affair you may join us and lend your blessed judgment in matters great and small.
Of men, of treasure, and of goods I will bring all in fine array before you.
May your steps be fortunate and your name exalted; may your every wish be won from Turan.
Prepare whatever is needed, so that Bizhan may perhaps be freed from his chains.
When Khosrow set his seal upon the letter, Giv departed and blessed the king.
He mounted all the horsemen of his clan, put his trust in God, and set the army moving.
Wherever a hunter would pause to rest, he crossed a two day journey in a single day.
He took to the desert and the road along the Hirmand, racing forward swift as a fine steed.
They turned toward mountain and plain, pressing on with anxious hearts, searching out the way.
When the lookout on the watchtower spotted him, he raised a cry toward Zabulistan.
He called out that a rider was coming toward the Hirmand, with a band of horsemen around him.
A gleaming banner rose behind him, and a Zabuli sword was gripped in his fist.
Dastan, son of Sam, heard the lookout's cry and ordered the reins put on his gray horse.
Full of thought, he rode out to meet them on the road, in case some enemy seeking vengeance had come.
On the road he saw Giv with a withered face, coming on in a daze, running and stumbling.
He said to himself, 'Some new trouble has struck the king; this is Giv, the messenger, who comes down the road.'
When the army's chief drew near, they greeted each other with words of respect and took up the road.
Dastan asked the Iranians for news of the king and of the war with the Turanians.
Giv delivered the greetings of the great ones to Dastan, from the king and from the heroes of noble birth.
He poured out all his heart's grief before Dastan, and spoke of his sorrow for his lost son.
He said, 'You will not see my face with any color left; from the blood of my weeping, even my step limps.'
Then he asked for word of the mighty Rustam, and said, 'Where is Rustam now?'
He was told, 'Rustam has gone hunting wild ass; he will surely return by the time the sun sets.'
Giv said, 'Then I will go to see his face; I carry a letter from Khosrow for him.'
Dastan said to him, 'Do not leave from here, for he will soon come back from the hunting ground.'
Stay in the house until Rustam arrives; for this one day, spend it happily with us.'
As Giv entered the palace from the road, the mighty Rustam came in from the hunt.
Giv went out to meet him as he approached, dismounted from his horse, and bowed low before him.
His heart full of longing, his face flushed with feeling, from both his eyes two streams poured down his cheeks.
When Rustam saw Giv's heart so wounded, and saw his face washed with tears from his lashes,
he said to him, 'It seems things have gone wrong at the palace and hard times have befallen the king.'
He came down from his horse and took Giv in his arms, and asked him about the crowned Khosrow.
About Gudarz, and Tus, and Gostaham, and all the army's heroes, great and small,
about Shapur, Farhad, and Bizhan, about Roham, Gorgin, and Harta.
When the name of Bizhan reached his ear, a cry of grief broke from him against his will.
He said to Rostam: You who deserve all praise, the finest of all the kings of the earth,
seeing you has filled me with such joy, and so have your kind questions and your words.
All those whose names you mentioned are well; they send you abundant greetings and messages.
Do you not see what ill fortune has fallen on me, fitting for these old years of mine?
What evil eye struck the house of Gudarz, that after such gain only loss remains for us?
In all the world I had but a single son, who was both my son and my faithful counselor.
He has vanished from my sight into the world; no one in this family has known such grief.
See the state I am in, upon the back of a mount, riding night and day through the dark of dawn.
Like one who has lost his senses, night and day I searched every side, asking everyone for word of Bizhan.
Now the king, holding the world revealing cup, stood before the Creator of the world.
How he cried out and gave praise, at the royal feast of Hormuz, in the first days of spring.
Then he came from the fire temple to the throne, girded his belt and set the crown upon his head.
He placed the shining cup before him and gazed beyond measure in every direction.
The king saw in it the sign of him in Turan, in heavy chains and in wretched days.
When Keykhosrow's cup revealed this to him, he quickly sent me off to the champion, Rostam.
So now I have come with a heart full of hope, my cheeks gone pale and my eyes turned white with weeping.
I have seen you as the one who solves the world's troubles; you gird yourself to answer everyone's cry for help.
He spoke on, his lashes wet with pale tears, drawing cold sighs up from his heart.
After he gave the letter to Rostam, he told him the whole story of Gorgin.
Rostam took the letter from him, his eyes full of tears, his heart full of hatred for Afrasiab.
Then he wailed bitterly for Bizhan, and blood poured down from his eyes to the side.
Then he said to Giv: Do not worry over this, for Rostam will not take the saddle off Rakhsh
until he has taken Bizhan's hand in his own and torn down all his bonds and prison.
By the power of God and the command of the king, I will overturn this crown and throne away from Turan.
From there they went to Rostam's palace, planning along the way the road they would take.
When Rostam read the king's letter, he was struck with wonder at Khosrow's words.
So much praise for the ruler of the world lay in that letter to the leader of the army.
Then he said to Giv: I understand; by his command I have made ready the road.
I know of this labor and effort of yours, the grief you have borne for this whole affair.
How much strength you have with me, ready to seek vengeance on the field of vengeance.
Whether for the vengeance of Siyavash or the war of Mazandaran, I have stood ready, belt tightened, before the warriors.
You bore the hardship of coming here; you crossed such a difficult road.
Seeing you filled me with joy, and yet for Bizhan I broke into grief.
I never wished to see you like this, mourning, worn down and wounded by fate.
For the sake of this letter from the king, I will surrender myself and rush along the road at his command.
For your sake my very heart is torn; for Bizhan's rescue I have tightened my belt.
I will strive at this task even if it takes my life, even if the pure Lord parts my soul from my body.
For Bizhan I count it no hardship to give up my life, my men, and my treasure.
By the strength of God I will gird myself, and by the fortune of the victorious king of kings.
I will bring him out of that dark pit of a prison and set him before the king at court.
For three days be happy here in my house; be free of hardship and of worry.
This house is not withheld from you as another's; with you my treasure, my body, and my life are one.
On the fourth day we will go toward the land of Iran, to the court of the king of the brave.
When Rustam spoke like this, Giv sprang up and kissed the hand, head, and feet of the hero.
He blessed him, saying: O renowned one, in manhood, strength, fortune, and skill,
may there stay with you forever a body like an elephant's, the wisdom and heart of the sages.
May you gain a share of every good thing, for you have wiped the rust of grief from my heart.
When Rustam saw Giv's heart at ease, he foresaw a good outcome for the venture.
He told the steward of the feast: Bring out the food, and summon the nobles and the wise.
Zavara, Faramarz, Dastan, and Giv all sat at the table of the noble host.
They ate the meal and cleared the table, then set up a place for music and wine.
The lute player came with the cupbearer into the jewel-inlaid hall.
Every ruby-red hand held ruby-colored wine; the harp cried out and the cup rang loud.
On the fourth day they made ready, when the time to set out drew near.
Rustam ordered: Load the packs, prepare everything for the road to the king of Iran.
The proud, defiant riders of his realm had all readied the road at his gate.
He came, set foot in Rakhsh's stirrup, tightened his belt, and put on his Roman coat of mail.
He slung his grandfather's mace onto the saddle, his head full of war, his heart full of cunning.
Rakhsh pricked his ears toward the sky, his crown-bestowing head raised higher than the sun.
He himself and Giv, with a hundred Zabuli riders, chose from the army those fit for battle.
They turned back from the errand that could not be won, leaving Zal and Faramarz behind.
They set their faces toward the land of Iran, hurrying all the way, their hearts set on revenge.
When Rostam drew near to Iran, he reached the city of the brave.
A sweet breeze brought the heavens' greeting to Rostam, joyful with affection.
Right then Giv came to Rostam and said the mighty hero should not ride farther from here.
'I will go and tell the king,' he said, 'that Rakhsh has carried the great one down the road.'
When the champion Giv left Rostam's side, he came to the court of the young king.
When he came close before Kaykhosrow, he praised him greatly and bowed low.
Then the king asked Giv, son of Gudarz, where Rostam had stayed and how the road had been.
Giv said to him, 'O renowned king, by your good fortune every task turns out well.'
'Rostam did not turn away from your command; I saw his heart bound to his promise to you.'
'When I gave him the king's letter, he pressed it to his eyes and face.'
'He bound his reins beside mine, just as a devoted servant of the king should.'
'I rode ahead to tell you, my king, that the mighty champion has come down the road.'
Then the king said to Giv, 'Where is Rostam, the pillar of greatness and the seed of loyalty?'
'He deserves to be honored, for he is a doer of good and devoted to the king.'
Khosrow commanded the wise men, the noble-born, and the brave,
to go out with an army to welcome him, since he had come by the king's command.
Word was sent to Gudarz son of Keshvad, to Tus king of the Nozar line, and to Farhad.
Two thirds of the proud, defiant warriors, along with the mace-wielding slayers of men,
rose up in the custom of Kavus and made ready to go out and welcome him.
The world turned dark with the dust of riders, spearheads flashing and banners gleaming.
When they came near to Rostam, they dismounted and paid their respects.
The champion of the world climbed down from his horse, while the great warriors bent low before him.
He asked each of them about the king, about the turning sun and the shining moon.
The warriors took their seats, and Rostam rode on, bright as blazing sacred fire.