SATIRE
ON SULTAN MAHMUD
Ferdowsi's
Satire on Sultan Mahmud
Know,
tyrant as thou art, this earthly state Is not eternal, but of transient
date; Fear God, then, and afflict not human-kind; To merit Heaven,
be thou to Heaven resigned. Afflict not even the Ant; though weak
and small, It breathes and lives, and life is sweet to all. Knowing
my temper, firm, and stern, and bold, Didst thou not, tyrant, tremble
to behold My sword blood-dropping? Hadst thou not the sense To shrink
from giving man like me offence? What could impel thee to an act
so base? What, but to earn and prove thy own disgrace? Why was I
sentenced to be trod upon, And crushed to death by elephants? By
one Whose power I scorn! Couldst thou presume that I Would be appalled
by thee, whom I defy? I am the lion, I, inured to blood, And make
the impious and the base my food; And I could grind thy limbs, and
spread them far As Nile's dark waters their rich treasures bear.
Fear thee! I fear not man, but God alone, I only bow to his Almighty
throne. Inspired by Him my ready numbers flow; Guarded by Him I
dread no earthly foe. Thus in the pride of song I pass my days,
Offering to Heaven my gratitude and praise.
From
every trace of sense and feeling free, When thou art dead, what
will become of thee? If thou shouldst tear me limb from limb, and
cast My dust and ashes to the angry blast, Ferdowsi still would
live, since on thy name, Mahmud, I did not rest my hopes of fame
In the bright page of my heroic song, But on the God of Heaven,
to whom belong Boundless thanksgivings, and on Him whose love Supports
the Faithful in the realms above, The mighty Prophet! none who e'er
reposed On Him, existence without hope has closed.
And
thou wouldst hurl me underneath the tread Of the wild elephant,
till I were dead! Dead! by that insult roused, I should become An
elephant in power, and seal thy doom-- Mahmud! if fear of man hath
never awed Thy heart, at least fear thy Creator, God. Full many
a warrior of illustrious worth, Full many of humble, of imperial
birth: Tur, Sílim, Jemshíd, Minuchihr the brave, Have
died; for nothing had the power to save These mighty monarchs from
the common doom; They died, but blest in memory still they bloom.
Thus kings too perish--none on earth remain, Since all things human
seek the dust again.
O,
had thy father graced a kingly throne, Thy mother been for royal
virtues known, A different fate the poet then had shared, Honours
and wealth had been his just reward; But how remote from thee a
glorious line! No high, ennobling ancestry is thine; From a vile
stock thy bold career began, A Blacksmith was thy sire of Isfahán.
Alas! from vice can goodness ever spring? Is mercy hoped for in
a tyrant king? Can water wash the Ethiopian white? Can we remove
the darkness from the night? The tree to which a bitter fruit is
given, Would still be bitter in the bowers of Heaven; And a bad
heart keeps on its vicious course; Or if it changes, changes for
the worse; Whilst streams of milk, where Eden's flowrets blow, Acquire
more honied sweetness as they flow. The reckless king who grinds
the poor like thee, Must ever be consigned to infamy!
Now
mark Ferdowsi's strain, his Book of Kings Will ever soar upon triumphant
wings. All who have listened to its various lore Rejoice, the wise
grow wiser than before; Heroes of other times, of ancient days,
Forever flourish in my sounding lays; Have I not sung of Kaus, Tus,
and Gíw; Of matchless Rustam, faithful, still, and true.
Of the great Demon-binder, who could throw His kamund to the Heavens,
and seize his foe! Of Hushang, Feridun, and Sam Suwar, Lohurasp,
Kai-khosrau, and Isfendiyar; Gushtasp, Arjasp, and him of mighty
name, Gudarz, with eighty sons of martial fame!
The
toil of thirty years is now complete, Record sublime of many a warlike
feat, Written midst toil and trouble, but the strain Awakens every
heart, and will remain A lasting stimulus to glorious deeds; For
even the bashful maid, who kindling reads, Becomes a warrior. Thirty
years of care, Urged on by royal promise, did I bear, And now, deceived
and scorned, the aged bard Is basely cheated of his pledged reward!
Source
:
http://www.heritageinstitute.com/
zoroastrianism/shahnameh/
satire.htm