Rostam ordered that the servants

Spread a garment by the stream

The young man on that garment in that place

Slept, and (Rostam) came to the king

When the strong-bodied one (Rostam) turned his head towards the road

Someone came quickly after him and informed him

That Sohrab has departed from this wide world

He now wants a coffin from you, not a palace

The father (Rostam) jumped and let out a cold sigh

He wailed and closed his eyelashes

He kept saying sadly, O young warrior

Proud and from the lineage of champions

He will not see the sun and moon like you again

Neither armor, nor throne, nor crown, nor helmet

What came to him came to me

I killed a young man in my old age

The grandson of the world-ruling Sam the rider

To his mother, from the famous lineage

Cutting off my two hands is worthy

May my seat not be other than dark earth

Which father has ever done this deed?

I am now worthy of cold words (reproach)

Who in the world has killed his own son?

Brave, young, and wise

Zal-e Zar will reproach me greatly

And also Rudabeh, the skilled one

What excuse can I offer for this deed?

That I can bring their hearts with my words

What will the warriors and the arrogant ones say

When such news reaches them?

What will I say when his mother finds out?

How will I send someone to her?

What will I say, why did I kill him innocently?

Why did I make his day dark?

His father, that esteemed champion

What will he say to that pure young woman?

They will curse this lineage of Sam

They will also call my name impious

Who knew that this esteemed child

Would become tall like a cypress in these years?

He would have the intention to come to war and raise an army

He would make my bright day dark

He ordered that the royal brocade

Be drawn over the face of the young son

His place of longing and the city came to him (were remembered)

A narrow coffin became his share

They took his coffin from that plain

(Rostam) turned his face towards his own tent

They set fire to the tent

His entire army threw dust on their heads

The same tent and the seven-colored brocade

All the valuable throne with the golden leopard

They put them on the fire, and a clamor arose

They kept saying sadly, O new world ruler

Alas for that face, stature, and height of yours

Alas for all that manliness and wisdom of yours

Alas for this grief and heart-rending regret

Separated from his mother and with a grieving father

He kept shedding blood and throwing dust (on his head)

He tore all his royal garments

All the champions of King Kavus

Sat on the ground with him along the way

The tongues of the elders were full of advice

Tahmtan (Rostam) was in pain for his beloved son

Such is the way of the high heavens

In one hand a crown and in the other a lasso

When someone sits happily with a crown

With the bend of its lasso, it snatches him from his place

Why should there be affection for the world?

When one must depart with his companions

When the thought of treasure becomes prolonged

One must return towards the dust

If fate has knowledge of this

Surely its brain has become empty

Know that it is not aware of this turning

That there is no way for how and why to it

One should not weep for this departure now

I do not know what its outcome will be

Thus King Kavus said to Rostam

From Mount Alborz to the leaf of the reed

The turning of the heavens will take him away

One should not cast affection upon this earth

One makes it (the journey) sooner, one later

The final passage is upon death

Make your heart content with this passing

Turn all your ear towards the wise

Even if you strike the sky upon the earth

And if you set fire to the world

You will not find that passed one back again

His soul has become old in another abode

I saw his chest and mane from afar

Such was his stature, height, and mace

Time roused him with an army

That here, by your hand, he would be destroyed

What will you do, and what is the remedy for this deed?

How long will you weep for this passed one?

Rostam said to him that he has indeed passed

Homan is sitting in this wide plain

There are chiefs from Turan and some from China

Do not hold any grudge against them in your heart

Zavareh will lead the army on the way

By the power of God and the king's command

The king said to him, O fame-seeker

Grief from this battle comes upon your face

Even if they have done some evil to me

And if they have raised smoke (grief) from Iran

My heart became full of pain from your pain

I do not wish to remember them