English
Section 24: Rustam Wounded
They lifted their bows and their sharp poplar arrows,
and stole the color from the face of the sun.
From the arrowheads they kindled fire,
and stitched the armor tight against their chests.
The heart of Iran's king grew heavy at this;
his brows and face were creased with lines of worry.
Whenever he reached his hand toward the bow,
no one, for certain, escaped his arrow alive.
The world would turn the color of dark blood,
and the sun would hide itself for fear of him.
He drew a bow so wide from its span
you would think the sun had entered its sail.
With an arrow whose head was diamond,
armor before it was like a sheet of paper.
When he loosed the arrow from the bow,
it tore into the bodies of Rustam and warlike Rakhsh.
Rakhsh grew weak from those arrows;
neither the horse nor the fighting man was whole.
Esfandiar galloped round about him,
yet Rustam's arrows did him no harm.
Rustam dismounted from Rakhsh like the wind,
and set his famous head toward the high ground.
Radiant Rakhsh made off toward his stable,
so estranged he grew from his master.
Blood streamed from Rustam up the height;
he grew as weak and trembling as Mount Bisotun.
When Esfandiar saw him he laughed,
and said to him, 'Renowned Rustam,
where has the strength of the drunken elephant gone?
Why has an arrow wounded the war elephant?
Where went your courage and your mace,
your glory and your stature in battle?
Why have you fled up to the high ground,
as if you heard the roar of a raging lion?
Why has the war elephant become a fox?
Why has your hand grown so short in the fight?
You are the one who made demons weep,
and scorched wild beasts with the heat of your blade.'
Zavareh suddenly caught sight of Rakhsh's tracks,
and rode down toward the river in dismay.
The world turned black before his eyes;
shouting, he galloped to the place of battle.
He saw the body of the warrior so wounded,
all his wounds still open and unbound.
He said to him, 'Rise, mount my horse,
let me put on the armor of vengeance for you.'
Rustam said, 'Go, tell Dastan
that the color and scent have faded from Sam's line.
See now what remedy there is for this affair,
and who is to blame for these wounds.
For if from Esfandiar's arrows
I should bring one night's end upon my days,
then, Zal, I will believe that today
I was born anew before this gathering.
When you have gone, arrange for Rakhsh's care;
I will come now, though I may be a while.'
Zavareh left his brother's side,
and turned his eyes swiftly toward Rakhsh.
Esfandiar stayed there on the lower ground,
and cried out, 'Renowned Rustam,
how long will you stand up there on the height?
Who will be there to guide you now?
Throw the bow from your hand and take off your armor;
draw your sword out and let it drop from your side.
Repent, and give your hands to be bound;
after this you will suffer no harm from me.
Wounded as you are, I will take you to the king;
I will clear your name of these deeds.
But if you still seek battle, make your will;
appoint someone to guard this frontier.
Ask God for the sin you have committed;
it is fitting he forgive it if you repent.
May the just Judge be your guide
when you depart from this fleeting house.'
Rustam said, 'The hour has grown late;
let the hand be stayed from battle and from harm.
Who ever seeks combat in the dark night?
Go back now in this state of peace.
I will go now to my hall,
rest a while, and take some sleep.
I will bind up all my wounds,
and summon those I keep close to me,
Zavareh, Faramarz, and Dastan of Sam's line,
and whichever of my kin has a name of note.
I will do now whatever you command;
all that is right lies under your covenant.'
The brazen-bodied Esfandiar said to him,
'You proud and stubborn old man,
you are a great man and a tester of strength;
you know many tricks and stratagems and schemes.
I have seen all your glory and grace;
I do not wish to see your fall.
For tonight I grant you your life in mercy;
when you reach your hall, do not scheme any crookedness.
Do whatever you have promised;
from now on measure out no more words with me.'
Rustam said to him, 'I will do just so,
once I have worked a healing charm upon my wounds.'
When Esfandiar turned away from Rustam,
he watched to see how the famous man would fare.
When Rustam crossed like a ship over the river,
he gave thanks to God for his body.
He said, 'Pure and just Judge,
if I perish from these wounds,
who will take my vengeance from the proud,
who will carry on my heart, my way, my custom?'
When Esfandiar looked after him,
he saw him on the far bank, upon dry land.
He said, 'Do not call this one a man;
he is a mighty elephant of endurance and strength.'
Covered with wounds he crossed the water,
driven in haste by that wound of the arrowhead.
Esfandiar was left in astonishment,
and said, 'Almighty Judge,
you have created just as you willed;
you have adorned time and the earth.'
When the renowned man had returned home,
Pashutan came out from the royal tent.
Over Nush-Azar, that hero, and over Mehr-Nush,
there was a wailing full of pain and grief.
The king's pavilion was full of dust,
and all the nobles' garments were torn.
Esfandiar dismounted from his horse,
and laid the heads of those proud youths on his knees.
He said, 'Alas, two young heroes,
your lives have left your bodies with all their strength.'
Then he said to Pashutan, 'Rise;
do not pour so many tears upon these slain.
I see no gain in shedding blood;
one should not cling in struggle against death.
We all belong to death, young and old;
may wisdom take our hand as we depart.'
In coffins of gold, in cradles of teak,
he sent them off to the crowned king.
He sent a message to his father:
'The branch of your policy has borne its fruit.
You threw a ship into the water;
you tried to make a servant out of Rustam.
When you see the coffins of Nush-Azar and Mehr-Nush,
do not struggle so much in your greed.
Esfandiar's fate is a bull sewn in its own hide;
I do not know what destiny will drive upon him.'
He sat upon his throne in mourning and grief,
and recalled all of Rustam's words.
Then he said to Pashutan, 'Even the lion
recoils from the grip of a brave man.
Today I looked upon Rustam,
upon the great height and stature of that elephant-bodied man,
and I began to praise the pure God,
from whom comes hope and from whom comes awe and fear,
that the Creator fashioned such a one.
Blessing on Him who made the world.
Such deeds have passed through his hand
that the sea of China stretched only to his wrist.
He would haul the crocodile up from the sea,
and drag the leopard by its tail from the plain.
I wounded his body with arrows so
that the pool turned to dust with his blood.
On foot, by our pact, he left the height,
heading swiftly to the river with armor and sword.
So wounded he came up from that pool,
his whole body full of arrowheads.
I believe that when he reaches his hall,
his soul will rise from that hall to the heavens.'