English
The Warning to Kavus
When a strong tree grows tall, harm may still reach it from the turning sky.
Its leaves wither, its roots weaken, and its crown begins to bend toward the ground.
When it tears its feet from where it stood, it gives its place to a fresh new branch.
It hands over its flowers, leaves, and garden to a spring that shines like a bright lamp.
If a bad branch springs from a good root, do not rush to fight with the branch.
When a father leaves the world to his son, he lays bare before him all he had hidden.
If the son casts off his father's glory and name, call him a stranger, not a son.
Whoever loses the way of his teacher deserves the cruelty that fate will bring him.
Such is the custom of this ancient house: you can never see its top from its root.
When someone recognizes its evil ways, he will not wish to linger long in this world.
When Kavus took his father's throne, the whole world became his servant, from end to end.
The same throne, the collar, the earrings, and the golden crown inlaid with jewels.
The same Arab horses with full manes; no one in the world could match him.
It happened that in a gilded garden he was drinking sweet wine one day.
On a golden throne with legs of crystal sat the master of the world.
Together with the champions of Iran, the king took counsel on matters great and small.
A demon musician came to the gatekeeper, seeking an audience with the king.
He said: I am a fine singer, one of the minstrels of Mazandaran.
If I am worthy to serve the king, let the way to his throne be opened to me.
The chief of the gate left the curtain and came gracefully before the king.
He said: a musician is at the door, with a lute, and he is a splendid singer.
The king ordered him summoned and seated among his players of instruments.
When he had tuned his lute as it should be, he raised a Mazandarani song.
May Mazandaran, our city, be remembered; may its land and soil be forever thriving.
For its gardens are always in bloom, and on its mountains grow tulips and hyacinths.
The air is sweet, the earth full of color, neither hot nor cold, forever spring.
The nightingale sings in the garden, the deer roams proudly across the meadow.
There you rest in comfort and ease, and all year long there is color and scent everywhere.
It is as if rosewater flows in its streams, and the soul is gladdened by its fragrance.
In December, January, November, and March alike, you will always find the earth full of tulips.
All year the streambanks are smiling, and everywhere hawks are used for hunting.
The whole land is adorned with brocade, gold, and riches.
Idol-fair servants wear golden crowns, and all the nobles wear golden belts.
When Kavus heard these words from him, a fresh idea took root in his mind.
His war-seeking heart was set on leading an army toward Mazandaran.
He said to the proud warriors: we have given ourselves over entirely to feasting.
If a brave man takes to laziness, he never grows tired of comfort and pleasure.
I surpass Jamshid, Zahhak, and Kay Qobad in fortune, glory, and justice.
I must have more valor than they had; a crowned king should be a conqueror of the world.
When the words reached the ears of the nobles, none of them saw this plan as a happy one.
They all turned pale, their faces creased; no one wished to fight the demons.
No one dared give a straight answer; secretly their hearts were full of cold sighs.
Men like Tus, Gudarz son of Keshvad, Giv, Khorad, Gorgin, and brave Roham,
said aloud: we are your humble servants; we tread the earth only at your command.
After that they gathered together and freed their hearts from his words.
They sat and said to one another: what has fortune brought upon our heads?
If the king does not bury these words he spoke while drinking wine,
ruin will come upon us and upon Iran; no water or soil will remain in this land.
For Jamshid, with his glory and his ring, who had demons, birds, and fairies at his command,
never once thought of Mazandaran, nor sought war with the demons from his brave men.
Even wise and skillful Fereydun never set his soul on such a course.
If this thing could have been carried out by courage, treasure, fame, and skill,
Manuchehr would have been the first to do it, and would not have humbled his heart before it.
Now we must find some remedy so this evil turns away from the land of Iran.
Then Tus said to the chiefs: O battle-tested, valiant leaders,
there is now only one remedy for this trap; let us arrange it, and the task is not hard.
We must send a swift dromedary to Zal son of Sam, and give him this message:
if your head is buried in the mud, do not wash it now; sharpen your mind and show your face.
Perhaps he can open his wise lips and lay his words upon the proud king's heart.
Let him say this evil was suggested by the demon; one should never trust a demon at all.
Perhaps Zal will turn him back from this decision; if not, the sign of the end has come.
They composed messages of every kind and sent a swift dromedary racing out.
The rider galloped until midday, until he reached world-illuminating Zal.
He delivered this message from the nobles: O famed and noble son of Sam,
a strange affair has now arisen whose scale cannot be easily measured.
If you do not gird yourself for this task, neither body, nor land, nor field will remain here.
A thought has risen in the king's heart; the demon has twisted him from the right path.
He will not agree with the ancient struggles of his forefathers.
He wants treasure without toil; he craves the pastures of Mazandaran.
If any thorn of doubt about setting out troubles the commander, he will soon go anyway.
He will throw to the wind all the toil you endured since the days of Kay Qobad.
You, with Rostam, the lion not yet sated with milk, girded yourself like a bold lion.
Now all that will turn to nothing before him; the soul of that ill-wisher has been twisted.
When Dastan heard this, he twisted in anguish; his body trembled like a tree.
He said: Kavus is a willful man, tested neither by the world's warmth nor its cold.
Whoever has held the foremost place in the world watches years and sun and moon pass over him.
Who is left in the world at whose sword both low and high all tremble together?
It would be no wonder if he does not heed me; I will be wounded if he ignores my counsel.
But if I make this hardship easy on myself and cut my heart from concern for the king,
neither the Creator, nor the king, nor the champions of Iran will approve of me.
I will go and tell him whatever counsel I have; if he accepts it from me, it will do good.
And if he grows angry, the road is open; Rostam is here with the army.
He spent that long night deep in thought, until the sun showed its crown from above.
He girded himself and set out for the king; the nobles went along the road with him.
Word reached Tus, Gudarz, Giv, Roham, Gorgin, and the brave heroes,
that Dastan had come near to Iran, and his auspicious banner had appeared.
The chiefs of the army went out to meet him, every man who wears a champion's helmet.
When Dastan son of Sam drew close, they all went to meet him at once.
They called down blessings upon him and rode with him toward the king.
Tus said to him: O proud hero, you have endured such a long, hard journey.
For the sake of the nobles of Iran, you chose this toil to bring us peace.
We are, every one of us, your well-wishers, honored by the glory of your helmet.
Zal said to the famous men: whoever has not been worn down by the years,
let all the counsel of the elders come to his mind; then the turning heavens will do him justice.
It is not right to hold back our counsel from him, for we ourselves are not free of the need for such counsel.
If his head turns away from counsel and wisdom, regret over the world will come upon him.
They said aloud: we are with you; after you, we will heed no one's counsel.
They all went together to the king, coming to the renowned throne.