The creator of the world, when He created the world,

No guardian appeared, as He was the sole boundary.

As the sun in the sky showed its crown,

The earth became like shining ivory, renowned.

What can I say about the radiant sun? Who it was,

From it, the world’s light expanded, because.

Abu al-Qasim, that victorious king,

Placed on his throne the sun’s crown, a wondrous thing.

From the East he adorned the land to the West,

And from his grace appeared gold mines, manifest.

My sleeping star awakened, aglow,

My mind, within, thought deeply, to and fro.

I knew the time had come to speak,

Now the ancient times would be made new and sleek.

Upon the thought of the king of earth,

I slept one night, my lips full of praise and mirth.

My heart, like light in that dark night,

I lay awake, my heart open, lips sealed tight.

Thus I saw, in sleep, my bright soul’s view,

A shining candle rose from the water’s hue.

The whole world’s face, a sapphire night,

From that candle, it turned to yellow ruby light.

The field and the land became like a velvet cloth,

And a victorious throne appeared with no flaw.

Sitting upon it, a ruler, like the moon’s glow,

A crown on his head, in place of a hat, to show.

He stretched out his army like two miles of line,

On his left hand, seven hundred battle elephants, divine.

A pure commander before him, kneeling in place,

Guiding the king in justice and faith’s embrace.

I was stunned by the king’s divine radiance,

And by the elephants and the massive army’s stance.

When I saw that royal visage so bright,

I asked those of renown in my sight.

Is this the wheel of time, the moon, or a crown so grand?

Is it a star before it, or an army’s hand?

One said, this king is from Rome and India’s land,

From Qanauj to the River Sind’s strand.

In Iran and Turan, they are his vassals, you see,

Alive by his wisdom and command, they be.

He adorned the face of the earth with justice,

And from it, he placed the crown upon his head, a must.

The world ruler, Mahmoud, the great king,

He brings sheep and wolves to the water spring.

From Kashmir to the edge of the Chinese sea,

Kings sing his praise, declaring him free.

When the child washed his lips from his mother's milk,

From the cradle, Mahmoud’s name he would ilk.

No one’s head will turn from his command,

None can breach the pact he has planned.

You too, offer praise, for you are the speaker,

Seeking the eternal name of the seeker.

When I woke, I searched for my place,

How long I had spent in the dark night’s embrace.

I sang my praise for that great king,

I offered my soul, not wealth, in this offering.

I said to my heart, this dream has its reply,

For his voice brings joy and fortune to the sky.

For the one who brings praise, and earns praise too,

For the fortune awake, and the earth made anew.

From the dust of the world, it turned to a spring garden,

The air was full of clouds, the earth adorned in a pattern.

From the cloud, when the rain came down,

The world became like a garden of Erem, a crown.

In Iran, all goodness comes from his justice,

Wherever the people are, they remember his greatness.

In his banquet, the sky speaks of his grace,

In his war, sharp are the claws of the dragon's race.

With the body of a worn-out elephant and the soul of Gabriel,

He holds in his hand the cloud of winter, the heart of the Nile.

The head of the wicked fate bows to his wrath,

Like a coin, it crumbles under his sight’s path.

He does not seek wealth or treasure’s gain,

Nor does he have a dark heart from battle’s pain.

Whoever has the favor of the Creator,

From the free and from the kind-hearted, slaves.

The king is beloved by all, head to toe,

He binds his waist with a firm command, a glow.

His first brother, younger by the year,

In humanity, none have his peer.

He who worships the world with honor and victory,

May he be joyful in the shadow of the king’s history.

Someone whose father was Nasir al-Din,

His throne crowned with the star of Pervez, unseen.

And the brave commander of Tus,

In battle, he crushes lions with great force.

He gives away everything he finds in this life,

And in return, receives praise from fate, rife.

To God, the guide of all people is true,

The king’s head will be in its rightful due.

May the world never be without a crown or king,

Let it always remain, eternal and glad.

May the body thrive forever with crown and throne,

Free from pain and sorrow, with fate brightly shown.

Now I return to the beginning of the task,

Toward the letter of the famous king, I ask.