The Reign of Queen Puran

There was a girl named Puran; when she became the king's wife, the affairs of the realm fell into disorder. They seated her on the royal throne, and the nobles showered jewels over her. Then Puran said: I will not let the gathering of my people be scattered. Whoever is poor, I will make rich from the treasury, so no one is left in suffering. Let no one in this world be in need, for their pain would wound me too. I will drive every ill-wisher out of the country and run the throne by the true custom of kings. A trustworthy man searched for a trace of Piruz Khusraw and suddenly found him and brought him in. When the news reached Puran, she chose many renowned men from the army. They brought Piruz before her, and she said: You wicked, vengeful creature, For the deed you did you will receive your due, a punishment fit for such vileness. Now you will be repaid for what you did; I will make a river of blood flow from your neck. Then she called for a colt from the stable, one that had never yet felt a saddle on its back. She had him tied to that mount like a stone, a halter thrown around his neck. That vengeful sovereign had the fierce, saddle-shy colt led out to the field. She sent several riders into the field, lassos coiled ready at their saddle straps. So that as the colt bolted with him, from moment to moment it would fling him down. Again and again he was slammed against the ground, and that colt earned much praise for it. It went on until his skin was torn, and blood ran from him little by little. In the end he gave up his life in disgrace. Why would you seek justice from a work of tyranny? This woman ruled the world with kindness, yet the wind of the heavens did not spare her from the dust. When six months had passed in her rule, suddenly the compass of her fate went crooked. In a single week she fell ill and died, taking a good name with her. Such is the way of the turning wheel: mighty in every deed, while we are powerless.