English
Section 4: The Battle at Dahestan
When dawn lifted its head above the mountains, the advance guard reached the outskirts of Dahestan.
Two leagues lay between the two armies, all decked out and ready for war.
There was a Turk named Barman who could say to any sleeper: 'Stay awake.'
He came and surveyed the enemy host, and saw the royal pavilion of King Nozar.
He went to the commander of the Turanian army and pointed out that host and its encampment.
Then he said to the vigilant commander: 'How long must we keep our courage hidden?'
'With the king's leave, I will go like a lion and seek battle from that gathered host.'
'Let them see plainly what my hand can do, and after me call no one else a champion.'
The wise Aghrirath said: 'If any harm should come to Barman,
the hearts of our marchlords will be broken, and this whole host will lose its spirit.
Choose instead some man with no name, one whose loss will bring no later regret.'
The face of Pashang's son creased with anger; Aghrirath's words shamed him.
With a scowling face he told Barman: 'Put on your armor and string your bow.
You will be the pride of that assembly, and there will be nothing to gnaw your teeth over.'
Barman rode out to the field of battle and called out toward Qaren, son of Kaveh:
'From this army of the renowned Nozar, whom do you have to fight me?'
Qaren looked over the brave men there, wondering who among them would seek the fight.
None of the famous warriors answered, except the aged, valiant Qobad.
The wise commander grew grim, boiling with anger at his brother's words.
Tears of fury filled his eyes: in so vast a host, this was cause for wrath,
that out of so many young fighting men, only an old man came forward to face him.
Qaren's heart was wounded by Qobad, and he spoke out among the brave:
'Your years have now reached a point where you should pull your hand back from war.
You are the wise steward of the army; the king's every plan turns upon you.
If a single white hair turns ruby with blood, all these brave men will despair.
Defeat will fall upon this battlefield, and every loyal heart will fill with grief.'
Now hear how Qobad answered in that assembly, that he would fight beside Qaren:
'Know, my brother, that the body belongs to death, and the warrior's head is made to wear the helmet.
From the blessed days of Manuchehr until today my body has been wasting away.
No living soul crosses over to heaven forever; each is prey, and death is its hunter.
One man's life is taken by the sword when two armies clash in fury.
His body goes to the vulture and the ravening lion, his head to the spear and the cutting blade.
Another's hour comes to him in his bed; either way, without a doubt, one must depart.
If I leave this wide world, my brother remains, with his greatness and his line.
Let him build a royal tomb and show me kindness after I am gone.
My head anointed with camphor, musk, and rosewater, my body laid down in eternal sleep;
entrust me to that place, my brother, and farewell. May wisdom always be your warp and weft.'
He said this, took his spear in hand, and went to the field like a maddened elephant.
Barman said to the old warrior: 'Your hour has brought your head to meet me.
You should have stayed behind, for fate itself is already at war with your life.'
Qobad answered Barman thus: 'For a good while the world dealt fairly with me.
A man can die only where his hour comes; when that hour arrives, it comes at once, beyond doubt.'
He spoke, then spurred his black horse Shabdiz, giving rein to his eager, fiery heart.
From dawn until the sun cast its long shadows, they pressed one against the other with all their strength.
In the end Barman prevailed and charged, thundering, across the field of battle.
He struck a javelin into Qobad's back and loosened the belt at his waist.
Head down, he tumbled from his horse; so perished that lionhearted old chief.
Barman went to Afrasiab, both cheeks bright with glory and honor.
He was given a robe of honor such as no lesser man had ever received from the great.
When Qobad was slain, the battle-seeking Qaren led his army forward and set his face to fight.
The two armies were like the China Sea; you would think the very earth had begun to heave.
The flash of diamond-bright blades turned ruby, glazed with blood.
All around it was like a sea of water on which the sun rains down scarlet.
The heart of the clouds filled with the wailing of war drums; the souls of blades ran with scarlet blood.
Wherever Qaren drove his horse, his steel blazed like the sacred fire of Azargoshasp.
You would think the diamond blade scattered coral; but no coral, in that revenge it scattered lives.
When Afrasiab saw this from Qaren, he spurred his horse and led his army against him.
They fought a battle until night rose over the mountains, and their hearts never wearied of vengeance.
When darkness fell, the battle-eager Qaren led his army back toward Dahestan.
He came to Nozar's pavilion, his heart torn from its place by his brother's blood.
Nozar saw him and let his tears pour down from eyes that had known no sleep.
He said: 'Since the death of Sam the horseman I have not seen a soul so stricken with grief.
May Qobad's soul shine like the sun, and may this world be yours forever.
There is no escape from this war or from our death; the earth offers no cradle but the grave.'
Qaren said: 'From the day I was born I have given my skilled body over to death.
Fereydun set this crown upon my head so that I might tread the earth to avenge Iraj.
I have not yet unfastened that belt, nor have I laid down my steel sword.
My brother, that man of gravity and wisdom, is gone; in the end I too shall pass this way.
May you live in joy, for today Pashang's son pressed the battle hard.
When part of his army was destroyed, he called up fresh troops from those still rested.
He saw me with my ox-headed mace and came, hungry for battle, close to me.
I bore down on him so hard that I came level with his very eyes.
He worked some sorcery against me in the fight, until even clear eyes lost their color and light.
Night came and the whole world turned dark, and my arm grew numb from all the striking.
You would think the world was reaching its end, and the very sky sinking beneath the earth.
We had to turn back from the battlefield, for the dust of the army rose and the night went black.'