English
Zal by the Riverbank
The servant rose and left his side, and set her mind on finding some scheme for this troubled affair.
They dressed the maidens in Roman silk and arranged their curling locks over faces like roses.
All five set out toward the riverbank, fresh in every scent and color like joyful spring.
It was the first of Farvardin, the start of the year, and Zal's camp lay along the riverbank.
They gathered roses at the water's edge, their cheeks like rose gardens, roses in their arms.
Zal looked out from his high throne and asked who these rose-gathering women might be.
The speaker said to the hero: They come from the palace of Mehrab, that bright soul.
The moon of Kabul sends her servants out to the rose garden.
Zal went toward those fairy-faced women; he asked his Turkish attendant for a bow and squared his shoulders.
He walked on foot, hunting for game, and spotted a waterfowl in that river.
The rosy-cheeked Turk strung the bow and placed it in the world-hero's hand.
He watched until the bird lifted from the water, then swiftly loosed an arrow.
He brought it spinning down from its flight; blood dripped and the river's water turned to brocade.
Then he told the Turk: Cross over there and bring me the bird I have brought down.
The sturdy Turk crossed by boat and walked up to the servant girl.
The servant asked: Warrior, speak, open your sweet tongue and tell me,
who is this lion-armed, elephant-bodied man, and of what assembly is he the king?
He who looses an arrow from the bow like this; what chance would an enemy have before him?
We have never seen a rider more handsome, so masterful with bow and arrow.
The fairy-faced girl bit her lip and said: Do not speak of a king in this way.
He is the king of Nimruz, the son of Sam, whom kings call Dastan by name.
Though a rider circled the whole world, he would never find one so renowned.
The servant laughed at the moon-faced youth and said: Do not say so much.
For in Mehrab's palace there is a moon who stands a full head taller than your king.
Tall as a teakwood tree, ivory-hued, with a divine crown of musk upon her head.
Two dark, languid narcissus eyes, two curved brows, and the ridge of her nose like a silver pen.
Her mouth as narrow as a grieving heart, her curls like the coil of a shackle.
Her two bewitching eyes full of dreamy languor, her face radiant, her cheeks full of tulips, her hair full of musk.
It seems there is no room for breath upon her lips; there is no moon in the world to equal her.
Each of the servant girls openly praised that beauty's face,
by this scheme, to bring those ruby lips to be joined with the lips of Sam's son.
He said to those beautiful attendants: The shining sun goes well beside the moon.
But perhaps there is no way to speak of it; perhaps water cannot reach this stream.
The brave man who avoids taking a wife stays easily concealed, alone.
So that he need never have a daughter, and never hear a word of shame about her.
The male falcon said this to his mate when he settled on the eggs and spread his wings:
If I hatch a chick from this egg, I will drive my own father's seed out of existence.
When the smiling youth came back from them, the renowned son of Sam asked him,
What did she say to you, that you come back smiling, lips parted over your silver teeth?
He told the hero all that he had heard; the hero's heart grew young with joy.
He said to the moon-faced servant boy: Go, tell those attendants,
not to leave the rose garden for a while; they should carry off jewels from this garden along with the roses.
He called for silver coins, gold, and jewels from the treasury, and five precious bolts of gold-woven silk.
He ordered: Take these to them; tell no one, and carry them in secret.
They must not return to the palace yet, so that I may send a message in confidence.
Five men went off to the moon-faced women with warm words, gold, and treasure.
They handed over the gold and jewels, and the message of the world-hero, Zal the golden.
The servant said to the lovely one: A secret never stays hidden for long,
unless it stays between two people; with three it is no secret, and with four it is a public gathering.
So speak, wise one of pure heart: if your word is a secret, tell it to us.
The servants said to one another: The male lion has walked into the snare.
Now the wish of Rudabeh and the desire of Zal have come true, and this is a good omen.
The dark-eyed treasurer of the king came forward, for she was the one entrusted with this affair.
Everything she had heard from that dear one she now told the commander in secret.
The commander strode toward the rose garden, in hope of the sun of Kabul.
The fairy-faced, rosy-cheeked idols of Taraz came out and bowed low before him.
The commander questioned them about the stature and the face of that cypress-like girl,
about her speech, her looks, her judgment and wisdom, so he might learn her nature and character.
Tell me every detail, and see that you do not slip into any falsehood.
If your account is truthful, you will keep your honor with me.
But if I suspect any crookedness, I will trample you beneath the feet of my elephants.
The tulip-cheeked girl turned pale as amber and kissed the ground before the commander.
She said: No mother has borne into this world, among the great,
anyone with the face of Sam, his stature, the purity of his heart, his knowledge and judgment,
and another like you, brave hero, with this height and lion's arms.
It is as if wine drips from your face, as if your scent is fragrant ambergris.
And a third, like moon-faced Rudabeh, a silver cypress with color and fragrance.
From head to foot she is rose and jasmine, like the star Canopus of Yemen upon a straight cypress.
From that silver dome, her head reaching down to the ground, she has let her lasso of hair fall over the roses like an ambush.
Her head is woven through with musk and ambergris, her body glowing with ruby and emerald.
Her curling locks are like chains of musk, thrown down, it seems, knot upon knot.
Her ten fingers like silver pens, marked all over with a hundred lines of perfume.
No idol-maker in China could paint one like her; moon and stars offer her their praise.
The commander spoke warmly to the servant, sweet words in a gentle voice:
Now tell me what scheme there is, some way to find my path to her,
for my heart and soul are full of love for her; my only wish is to see her face.
The servant said: If you command it, we will make our way to the palace of that graceful cypress.
Of the world-hero's fortunate mind, of his words and looks and bright soul,
we will speak in every way, coaxing her; and there is nothing false in what we say.
We will draw that musk-scented one into the snare, and bring her lips toward the lips of Sam's son.
Then perhaps the hero will come with his lasso to the wall of the high palace,
and loop it over the neck of the battlements; the lion will rejoice at his prey, the lamb.
The beauties departed and Zal turned back, his heart now matched to his desire and joy.