An unavoidable path came before him,

He walked, yet had to pause, lost in foolish thoughts.

On the horse’s back, the rider’s tongue spoke,

Exhausted by heat and thirst, he lost his strength.

He dismounted from his horse, with his shield in hand,

He staggered forward, drunk with exhaustion.

He searched for a way, seeking a solution,

Then he turned his face toward the heavens.

He said, 'O just judge of fate,'

All my suffering and hardship will end through you.

If your pleasure comes from my pain,

Then let my treasure fill the world’s end.

I will cry out, hoping the Creator,

Will offer King Kavus a chance for protection.

And release the Iranians from the demon’s claws,

And free the world without harm from the divine.

The guilty and the offenders may rise,

As worshipers and servants of the divine.

His mighty body grew so scorched,

That from thirst, he became weak and disordered.

Rostam fell upon the hot earth,

His tongue torn from the burning thirst.

At that moment, a magnificent ram appeared,

It trotted before Rostam on the ground.

From the ram's departure, a thought arose in his mind,

He wondered, 'Where is its water source?'

Truly, the Creator’s mercy,

Has risen in this era.

He gripped his sword tightly in his right hand,

With the strength of a ruler, he rose to his feet.

He pursued the ram, sword in hand,

And grasped his shield with his other hand.

On the path, a spring appeared before him,

When the ram reached that place.

Rostam turned his face toward the heavens,

And said, 'O just and truthful judge!'

Whoever believes in the just God alone,

Will not allow wisdom to be displaced.

At this spring, there is no source for the ram,

The wild stallion of the plains is no kin to me.

Where speech becomes constrained,

Seek refuge only with the pure Creator.

He called upon the wild stallion and praised it,

May it be safe from the harm of the turning wheel of fate.

May the grass at your door and in the field remain green,

And may the cheetah’s heart never be joyful because of you.

Whoever aims at you with bow and arrow,

May their bow break and their aim be clouded.

From you, Piltan rose alive,

Otherwise, he would have been lost to thought, in his shroud.

For in the chest of a great dragon,

There is no room, only the wolf’s claws remain.

He was torn apart and dragged away,

His mark reached the enemy from Rostam.

His soul, like a garment, was woven by creation,

From his horse, he separated the saddle and rein.

He washed his entire body in that pure water,

And became radiant, like the sun.

When he was quenched, he prepared his hunting tools,

He fastened his belt and filled his quiver with arrows.

He threw a mound like the hide of a mighty elephant,

And separated its leather from its feet and midsection.

Like the sharp sun, a fire ignited,

And rose from the water, burning in the fire.

He leapt from the fire, took a bite,

And began to bury his bones in the earth.

He headed toward the clear spring and approached the water,

Once quenched, he set his intention to sleep.

Rostam said to his steed with a song,

Do not struggle with anyone, nor seek a companion.

If the enemy comes, seek me out,

Do not fight the demons or lions.

He slept, resting in peace and silence,

While his horse grazed until midnight.