English
Rostam and Afrasiab in Battle
When Rostam saw what Qaren had accomplished, and how he had waged the fierce fight,
he went to his father and asked him: 'Tell me, great champion of the world,
where does Afrasiab, that scheming man, take his stand on the day of battle?
What does he wear, and where does he raise his banner? I know its purple flag shines bright.'
'Today I will seize him by his belt, and drag him here before you.'
Zal said to him: 'Listen, my son, and keep your wits about you for this one day.
That Turk is a raging dragon in war, a towering storm of fury and revenge.
His banner is black, his coat of mail is black; his forearms are iron, his helmet iron too.
His iron armor is chased with gold, and he wears a black emblem upon his helm.
Guard yourself well against him, for he is a brave man and favored by fortune.'
Rostam said to him: 'O champion, do not trouble your heart on my account.
The Creator of the world is my ally; my courage, my sword, and my arm are my fortress.'
He spurred Rakhsh with its bronze-hard hooves, and a bull-like roar rose up from him.
When Afrasiab saw him out on the plain, he marveled at that young, unripe boy.
He asked the Turks: 'This dragon set loose from its chains,
who is he? I do not know his name.' One answered: 'This is the son of Zal, son of Sam.
Do you not see he comes with Sam's own mace? He is young and has come in search of a name.'
Afrasiab advanced before his army, like a ship the waves lift out of the water.
When Rostam saw him, he gripped with his thighs and swung the heavy mace up to his shoulder.
When he had closed the ground tightly between them, he thrust the heavy mace back into his saddle.
He clamped his hand onto Afrasiab's belt and tore him from the back of his leopard-skinned saddle.
He meant to carry him before Qobad, so that on this first day of war he could pay him back.
But under the champion's weight and the rider's grip, the leather belt did not hold.
It snapped, and Afrasiab's head fell to the dust; his horsemen closed around him.
When the warlord slipped free of Rostam's grasp, Rostam gnawed at the back of his hand in regret.
'Why,' he said, 'did I not grab him under the arm, instead of taking hold of him neatly by the belt?'
When the sound of bells rose from the backs of the elephants, and the war drums thundered for miles,
someone brought the news to the king: 'Rostam has ripped through the heart of the enemy army.
He drove so far that he reached the king of the Turks, and the warlord's banner vanished from sight.
He seized him by the belt and flung him down with ease; a bitter cry went up from the Turks.'
Qobad charged forward like fire, and the army stirred like a sea whipped by the wind.
The uproar of striking and pounding rose, the flash of daggers and the blows of clubs.
Upon those golden helmets and golden shields, heads were gashed and split by the axes.
You would say a cloud had risen from a corner and splashed vermilion across a golden fruit.
From the dust of the horsemen on that wide plain, the earth became sixth and the sky the eighth.
One thousand one hundred and sixty brave warriors were slain, each with a single blow, like fierce lions.
The Turks fled before the Persians, and drew their army back toward Damghan.
From there they turned their faces toward the Oxus, their hearts pierced, full of grief and murmuring.
Their weapons broken, their belts torn loose, no trumpet, no war drum, no order at all.