When the shining sun raised its wings

The flying black raven lowered its head

Tahmtan (Rostam) put on his tiger skin

He mounted his fierce war elephant

He fastened a lasso to the saddle strap

He held an Indian sword in his hand

He came to that battlefield plain

Having placed an iron helmet on his head

All the bitterness was for the sake of increase

Lest it be related to greed

And on the other side, Sohrab with his companions

Was drinking wine with the minstrel

He said to Homan, this lion-hearted man

Who is going to fight with me

His height is not less than mine

In battle, he has no gloomy heart

His chest, shoulders, and mane are like mine

You would say that a knowledgeable one has drawn the line

I find the signs of my mother in him

I also turn towards that a little

I suspect that he is Rostam

For there is no warrior less than him in the world

It should not be that I, a warrior, fight with my father

And become shameless and confront him

Homan said to him, that in battle

Rostam has come to me many times

I have heard what that brave man did

In the war of Mazandaran with the heavy mace

His Rakhsh (Rostam's horse) resembles this Rakhsh

But it does not have his tracks and spread

When the sun rose at dawn

The heads of the warriors rose from sleep

Sohrab put on his battle armor

His head full of battle and his heart full of feasting

He came roaring to that battlefield

With the cow-headed mace in his grasp

He asked Rostam with smiling lips

You said that the night was spent together

How was your night, how did you rise in the morning?

What did you prepare in your heart for the battle?

Throw away this mace and sword of vengeance

Strike war and injustice to the ground

Let us both sit together on foot

Let us refresh our gloomy faces with fresh wine

Let us make a pact before the Lord of the world

Let us repent for seeking war in our hearts

Until someone else comes to battle

You make peace with me and prepare a feast

My heart brings affection for you

Shame brings tears to my face

Surely you have lineage from warriors

You remind me of your own essence

Rostam said to him, O fame-seeker

We were never in such a conversation

The talk was about wrestling last night

I will not be deceived by you, do not strive in this matter

I am not a child, even if you are young

I have tied my belt for wrestling

Let us strive, and the outcome will be

What the command and will of the world's protector is

I have traveled much in ups and downs

I am not a man of words, tricks, and deceit

Sohrab said to him, from an old man

Words like this are not pleasing to the heart

My wish was that in your bed

Someone would rise at the time of consciousness from beside you

Someone who remains from you would praise you

The soul would fly away, leaving the body in prison

If your consciousness is under my control

Let us join hands by God's command

They descended from their war horses

They came cautiously with armor and helmets

They tied their war horses to a rock

Both went with spirits full of dust

They engaged in wrestling

They shed blood and sweat from their bodies

Sohrab struck with his hand like a drunken elephant

He lifted him from his place and put him down

Like a lion that attacks a wild ass

Strikes with its claws and the wild ass falls head over heels

He sat on the chest of the strong-bodied one

His claws, face, and mouth full of dust

He drew a gleaming dagger

He wanted to cut his head from his body

He said to Sohrab, O brave lion-catcher

Lasso-thrower, hero, and sword-wielder

Our custom is different

The order of our religion is other than this

Someone who brings victory in wrestling

Brings the head of leadership under the dust

The first time his back touches the ground

He does not take his head, even if there is vengeance

If he brings him down a second time

He earns the name of a lion for throwing him down

With that trick, from the clutches of that dragon

He wanted to escape from being killed

The brave young man submitted to the old man's words

And this speech was pleasing to his heart

One from bravery and two from time (experience)

Third from his chivalry, without doubt

He released his hand from him and came to the plain

Like a lion that passes by a deer

He was hunting and did not remember

The one who had fought with him

It was late until Homan, like a hero

Came and asked him about the battle

He told Homan where he had gone

Everything that Rostam had told him

Homan, the hero, said to him, O young man

You have surely reached satiety with your life

Alas for this chest, arm, and mane of yours

Among heroes, your grasp and mace

A lion that you had brought into your trap

You released from the trap, and the work became unfinished

See what this vain action

Will bring before you in another battle

He said and took his heart away from his life

He remained astonished and bewildered by him

He turned his face towards his camp

In anger, and his heart full of grief from his actions

He told a story to this king

That do not consider the enemy insignificant, even if he is small and weak

When Rostam was freed from his hand

He became like a steel sword

He went gracefully towards the flowing water

As if he would regain his soul

He drank water and washed his face, head, and body

He first went before the Creator of the world

He was asking for victory and power

He was unaware of the gifts of the sun and moon (fate)

That how fate would turn against him

And would take the crown from his head

And from that watering place, he went to the battlefield

His heart was full of worry, and his face was pale

Sohrab was charging like a drunken elephant

With a lasso on his arm and a bow in his hand

Strutting and shouting over the wild ass

His steed shaking the world and making it tremble

Rostam remained astonished by him

He took measures from his fighting

When Sohrab, the lion-like warrior, saw him

His heart swelled with the pride of youth

He said thus, O one escaped from the lion's claws

Separated from the wound of the brave lion