"Ah! yes, he had! and that lost son am I. Surely the news will one day reach his ear, Reach Rustum, where he sits, and tarries long, Somewhere, I know not where, but far from here, And pierce him like a stab, and make him leap To arms, and cry for vengeance upon thee. 585 Fierce man, bethink thee, for an only son! What will that grief, what will that vengeance be? Oh, could I live, till I that grief had seen! With age, and rules over the valiant Her most I pity, who no more will see Sohrab returning from the Tartar camp, With spoils and honor, when the war is done. 595 But a dark rumor will be bruited up, From tribe to tribe, until it reach her car; And then will that defenceless woman learn That Sohrab will rejoice her sight no more; But that in battle with a nameless foe, 600 By the far-distant Oxus, he is slain." He spoke; and as he ceased, he wept aloud, Thinking of her he left, and his own death. He spoke; but Rustum listened, plunged in thought. 605 Nor did he yet believe it was his son Who spoke, although he called back names he knew; For he had had sure tidings that the babe, Which was in Ader-baijan born to him, Had been a puny girl, no boy at all So that sad mother sent him word, for fear 610 His youth; saw Sohrab's mother, in her bloom; And that old king, her father, who loved well 625 His wandering guest, and gave him his fair child With joy; and all the pleasant life they led, They three, in that long-distant summertime The castle, and the dewy woods, and hunt And hound, and morn on those delightful hills 630 In Ader-baijan. And he saw that youth, Of an unskilful gardener has been cut, 635 Mowing the garden grass-plots near its bed, And lies, a fragrant tower of purple bloom, On the mown, dying grass-so Sohrab lay, Lovely in death, upon the common sand. And Rustum gazed on him with grief, and said: 640 "O Sohrab, thou indeed art such a son Whom Rustum, wert thou his, might well have loved. Yet here thou errest, Sohrab, or else men Have told thee false-thou art not Rustum's son. For Rustum had no son: one child he had645 But one-a girl; who with her mother now Rustum should take the boy, to train in Plies some light female task, nor dreams of And in a hollow voice he spake, and said:"Sohrab, that were a proof which could not lie! If thou show this, then art thou Rustum's son." Then, with weak hasty fingers, Sohrab loosed His belt, and near the shoulder bared his arm, 670 And showed a sign in faint vermilion points Pricked; as a cunning workman, in Pekin, Pricks with vermilion some clear porcelain vase, Anemperor's gift-at early morn he paints, And all day long, and, when night comes, the lamp 675 Lights up his studious forehead and thin hands So delicately pricked the sign appeared On Sohrab's arm, the sign of Rustum's seal. It was that griffin, which of old reared Zal, Rustum's great father, whom they left to die, 680 And then he touched it with his hand and said: "How say'st thou? Is that sign the proper sign Of Rustum's son, or of some other man's?” He spoke: but Rustum gazed, and gazed, and stood Speechless; and then he uttered one sharp cry: 690 "O boy-thy father!"-and his voice choked there. And then a dark cloud passed before his eyes, And his head swam, and he sank down to earth. But Sohrab crawled to where he lay, and cast His arms about his neck, and kissed his lips, 695 And with fond faltering fingers stroked his cheeks, Trying to call him back to life; and life Came back to Rustum, and he oped his eyes, And they stood wide with horror; and he seized In both his hands the dust which lay around, 700 Surely my heart cried out that it was thou, When first I saw thee; and thy heart spoke too, I know it! but fate trod those promptings down Under its iron heel; fate, fate engaged The strife, and hurled me on my father's spear. 715 But let us speak no more of this! I find My father; let me feel that I have found! Come, sit beside me on this sand, and take Come, let me lay my hand upon thy mane! O Ruksh, thou art more fortunate than I; For thou hast gone where I shall never go, My head betwixt thy hands, and kiss my And snuffed the breezes of my father's cheeks, And wash them with thy tears, and say: 'My son!' 720 Quick! quick! for numbered are my sands of life, And swift; for like the lightning to this field I came, and like the wind I go awaySudden, and swift, and like a passing wind. But it was writ in Heaven that this should be." 725 So said he and his voice released the heart home. Have never known my grandsire's furrowed face, Nor seen his lofty house in Seïstan, Of Rustum, and his tears broke forth; Nor slaked my thirst at the clear Helhe cast mund stream; His arms round his son's neck, and wept But lodged among my father's foes, and aloud, seen But Rustum chid him with stern voice, Oh, that I saw its grains of yellow silt Roll tumbling in the current o'er my head!" and said: "Ruksh, now thou grievest; but, O Ruksh, thy feet Should first have rotted on their nimble joints, Or ere they bore thy master to this field!" But Sohrab looked upon the horse and said: 741 770 But, with a grave mild voice, Sohrab replied: "Desire not that, my father! thou must live. For some are born to do great deeds, and live, "Is this, then, Ruksh? How often, in past As some are born to be obscured, and die. days, Do thou the deeds I die too young to do, And reap a second glory in thine age; 776 Thou art my father, and thy gain is mine. But come! thou seest this great host of men Which follow me; I pray thee, slay not these! And I will spare thy host; yea, let them go! Let them all cross the Oxus back in peace! What should I do with slaying any more? For would that all whom I have ever slain Might be once more alive; my bitterest foes, The crimson torrent ran, dim now and soiled Like the soiled tissue of white violets And they who were called champions in Left, freshly gathered, on their native 810 their time, By romping children, whom their nurses. call Indoors from the sun's eye; his head drooped low, His limbs grew slack; motionless, white, he lay White, with eyes closed; only when heavy gasps, Deep heavy gasps quivering through all his frame, 850 Convulsed him back to life, he opened them, And fixed them feebly on his father's face; Till now all strength was ebbed, and from his limbs Unwillingly the spirit fled away, Regretting the warm mansion which it left, 855 And youth, and bloom, and this delightful world. So, on the bloody sand, Sohrab lay dead; And the great Rustum drew his horseman's cloak Down o'er his face, and sate by his dead To hem his watery march, and dam his streams, And split his currents; that for many a league The shorn and parcelled Oxus strains along Through beds of sand and matted rushy isles885 Oxus, forgetting the bright speed he had His luminous home of waters opens, bright 890 And tranquil, from whose floor the newbathed stars Emerge, and shine upon the Aral Sea. |