When Nouzar heard that Qaran had gone

He rushed after him, burning with heat and scorn

He raced ahead, wishing the bad day to end

Hoping the heavens would not his fate bend

When Afrasiyab learned from news of his way

He turned towards the desert without delay

He gathered his army and marched ahead

Like a lion, he followed, the enemy he led

When the king found himself in a narrow place

He saw only battle and no room for grace

He rushed forward, searching for a path so dire

Wishing to bring a head without a crown, to inspire

The dark night passed, and the sun grew bright

Afrasiyab wandered with Nouzar in sight

The world turned dark with the dust of the horsemen

In the end, Nouzar found himself caught in the tension

He and his thousand and two hundred men

Were dragged along the ground, with no place to stand

They searched many paths, and fled away

But into the trap of disaster, they fell astray

Such an army was captured and bound tight

And brought before the great king in the fight

If the heavens align with you in truth’s grace

You will not gain permission from its fickle face

It will give you a crown and a throne to wear

But it will also give you dark sorrow and despair

It remains with both enemy and friend alike

Sometimes it gives you the brain, sometimes the pike

If your head presses against the black cloud’s weight

In the end, the earth will be your fate

Afterward, Afrasiyab gave his command

To search through caves, mountains, deserts, and land

He ordered to find Qaran, the warrior so strong

Who would never escape from this fight so long

When he heard, he had already left before

Disturbed by the camp, he had been stirred to war

Afrasiyab’s heart grew heavy with regret

He was distant, lost in sorrow, sleep, and debt

Qaran found freedom from Afrasiyab’s hand

But he twisted in pain, and grew suspicious of the land

He spoke thus to the renowned Wisah

To make his heart hard against his son’s death, a cruel measure

For when Qaran brought the fight, as a foe

The leopard, in its rush, halted its flow

You must gird your waist for the fight ahead

For an army is being raised, full of skill and dread