English
The Duel of Tus and Human
He set his foot to the eagle-swift horse and spurred that mount into motion.
You would think it was a steed of iron, or Mount Alborz clad in armor.
He came out before the army to fight, a gleaming spear gripped in his fist.
Tus the commander moved from his place; the world filled with the blare of the war-horn.
He said to Human: 'You wretched, ill-starred man, no fruit has grown from this garden of vengeance.
I showed my hand's work on Arzhang, who was among you a renowned and valiant one.
Now it seems you have come for revenge, since you have ridden out with a spear on your saddle.
By the life and head of Iran's king and army, though without armor, mace, or Roman helmet,
I will come to fight you like a leopard that leaps down from the mountain to seize its prey.
You will see the combat of true men when I bring you to the field of battle.'
Human answered him: 'Excess is not fine; do not seek to boast beyond your measure.
If some helpless man's last hour has fallen into your hands, do not grow too sure of yourself.
In battle with me, where did Arzhang ever prove himself a real man on the day of war?
The brave warriors of an army feel no shame; not one lets his warm blood boil over.
For it is the commander who wages their fight; in the clash their hands do the harm.
Where are the noble Bizhan and Giv, and world-conquering Gudarz son of Keshvad?
If you are a champion, from the heart of the army, why have you come to this battlefield?
A wise man would call you a stranger to sense; a sober man would call you mad.
Go, keep hold of the Kaviani banner; a supreme commander should not step into the fray.
Look and see whom the king honored with a robe, which of the heroes seeks the signet and crown.
Give the order that they wage a lion's war, that they force the upper hand to give way.
If you are killed at my hands, evil will befall that renowned gathering.
Your army will be left without a leader and lifeless; if any survive, they will be broken and writhing.
And besides, if you hear the honest truth, my soul and heart bear witness on my tongue:
I feel grief for the true men who come before me on the day of battle.
After Rostam, son of Zal, son of Sam the rider, I have not seen a single champion like you.
Renowned and royal, father after father, no warrior like you comes forth in any army.
So go, and let one glory-seeker come out from the army, and we two will face each other.'
Tus said to him: 'O proud man, I am the commander and also the warrior of the battlefield.
You too are a renowned man of the Turanian army; why did you set your mind on the field of combat?'
If your heart will take one piece of advice from me,
then bind yourself to me in this matter.
For as long as a single man stays alive in this feud,
no army will find a moment's rest.
You and your kin and so many riders,
all of them champions, all of them famous men.
Do not throw yourself away for nothing;
you must keep my advice in mind.
Whoever truly deserves to be killed,
leave them, until they reach out their hand in vengeance.
From this feud no guilty man will find escape;
so do not turn away from reason.
The king of Iran gave me this counsel:
that Piran must not come to harm.
For he is my own foster father,
worldly wise and dear to me.
Do not fight him rashly with injustice;
see that he lends an ear to your counsel.
So Human spoke, of wrong and right:
when the king of blessed lineage gives the command,
one must yield to it helplessly,
and hand over his heart to him entirely.
Even the battle with Piran is not by choice,
for he is generous, noble, and good-natured.
Tus was still in the middle of this talk,
when Giv's face turned pale as amber.
He came from the army swift as the wind,
and said: O Tus of blessed lineage,
that deceiver Human, between the two ranks,
came roaring, with foam upon his lips.
Why does he now murmur so many secrets to you,
this long parley between the two ranks?
Speak to him with nothing but the sword;
do not seek any path toward peace.
When Human heard this, he flew into a rage,
and said to Giv, the fortunate one:
You whose fortune, and the fortune of the free, is lost,
may Gudarz son of Keshvad be lost as well.
Many a time you have seen me on the day of battle,
an Indian blade in my grip on the field.
No warrior of Keshvad's line remains
who has not read out the writ of my sword.
Your fortune has turned to the face of a demon;
in your house there will be mourning forever.
If I am killed by the hand of Tus,
the custom of mace and war drum will not be undone.
Piran and Afrasiab remain in their place;
they will make my blood flow like a river.
The world will not be swept clean and ruined by my fall;
one must speak the truth before this gathering.
And if Tus is destroyed by my hand,
the army of Iran will not find a single way out.
So now you weep over your brother's death;
why do you challenge Tus son of Nozar?
Tus said to him: What is this raving?
On this field the fight is between you and me.
Come, let us wheel about and seek revenge,
let us meet in battle with brows creased in fury.
Human said to him: Death is fated,
one head beneath a crown, another beneath a helmet.
If death is surely coming for me, better it find me on the field of battle.
By the hand of a rider skilled in war, a chief and hero eager for the fight.
Both seized their heavy maces, each charging at the other, blow for blow.
Dust rose and whirled and the day grew dark; a cloud of it closed over the battlefield.
You would think night had fallen upon them in broad day, hiding the world lighting sun.
Under the shattering blows of the heavy maces, their heads were like the anvils of blacksmiths.
The clang of steel rose into the clouds; a storm broke over a sea of honey.
Blood on the lion's paw thickened like curd; the whole plain rang with the sound of swords.
The bronze mace bent from the strain; its iron curved like a Chach bow.
You would think there were stones beneath the helmets; the face of death itself blackened from the heroes' blows.
They gripped their Indian swords in their fists; fire showered down from steel and stone.
From the strength of those proud warriors the sharp blades bent and, in the striking, broke to pieces.
Their throats full of dust, their heads too, both grabbed at the other's belt.
From the force of the champions the stirrups strained, yet neither's head bent low in defeat.
The belt snapped and Human leapt free, then mounted a fresh, rested horse.
The commander reached for his quiver, strung his bow and fitted a poplar arrow.
He began raining arrows on that famous warrior, engaging the riders on left and right.
With steel arrowheads and eagle feathers he made a shield before the face of the sun.
When two watches of the night had passed, the whole face of the land glittered like diamonds.
A poplar arrow wounded Human's horse; the mount's body sank low into the dust.
He raised his shield over his head and showed no face; Human kept his head safe from the other's arrows.
When the army of Turan saw him on foot upon that battlefield, they cried out,
that his place was now left empty; so they brought up his splendid steed.
When Human settled onto that silk covered saddle, he took an Indian blade in hand,
meaning to come again against Tus in battle; but night turned the world dark as ebony.
All the war seeking champions, one by one, turned their faces toward him.
When the day grew dark and the hour late, the hands of the heroes fell short of fighting.
The warring Human turned his reins away, and the commander leveled his lance straight at him.
Human went from the field toward Piran; a great cry rose up from the army of Turan.
May the wrath of the proud ones be far from you; may our end in this war be a celebration.
How did your fight go, glory seeker, when you came face to face with Tus?
Every one of us had a heart full of blood; only God knows the state we were in.
Human, the lion, spoke to the army: You battle tested, brave commanders.
When the dark night gives way to day, the day is ours, for that world lighting star is on our side.
All of you will have your joy and desire; mine will be honor and a good name.
Tus kept shouting to his troops from the dark night until the cock's crow.
He said: Who is the man of mine that even a raging elephant could stand against me in battle?
When the high heavens crowned themselves with jet black, they scattered specks of light across the deep blue sky.
The scouts rode out on every side, and set a watchman before each tent.
When the sun rose from the sign of Cancer, the world turned white as the face of a Roman.
The drums thundered from both camps, and the world filled with the cry of the trumpets.
The air went dark with the glow of banners: blood red, night black, yellow, and violet.
All drew their swords, maces, and spears, and turned their reins toward the fight.
You would think the sky, time, and earth had drawn an iron veil over themselves.
The bright sun hid behind a curtain from the surge of riders and the dust and dirt.
From the neighing of horses and the clamor of kettledrums, the sky bent down and kissed the earth.
The commander Human charged before the ranks, a gleaming javelin gripped in his hand.
He said: When I burst into the fray, spurring my horse and raising my war cry,
then every one of you, draw your swords and raise your Chinese shields over your heads.
See nothing but the horse's mane and the reins; no need for the bow, no need for the spear.
Lay the reins right on your horses' necks, and take and give blows as they come.
He said to Piran: Champion, unbind the warriors' store of weapons.
Do not cling to your hoard of gold; be not the least bit stingy over arms,
for today we will be victorious, and our hearts will win favor from a lucky star.
On this side, the commander Tus arrayed his army so it dazzled the eye.
The heroes called down blessings upon him and named him the champion of the earth,
saying he would triumph on the day of battle and raise dust from Human, son of Vaisa.
The commander said to Gudarz, son of Keshvad: This secret must be kept from everyone.
If our army faces them and the enemy riders gain the upper hand,
we will all lift our hands together to God and cast every trace of pride from ourselves.
May our God take our hand and help us; otherwise our fortune stands against us.
Now, you renowned warriors in golden boots, stand fast beside the royal banner of Kaveh.
Do not stir at all from this foothold of the mountain; this is not the day of battle nor the time to advance.
It seems the enemy outnumbers us two hundred to one, if not more.
Gudarz said to him: if the Creator turns this evil hour away from us,
then it is no matter of more or fewer; do not dishearten the spirit and mind of the Iranians.
If heaven's gift proves cruel, guard yourself, for time will not grow by our wishing.
Marshal your army, and over what is fated do not let your soul torment itself at all.