ABSTRACT
He turned and reached the city of Farab, His cheeks were flushed and smiles were on his lips. He paused, allowed his troops to rest a week, And called to him the potentates of Chín. He reared a column of cement and stone, Which none, save by the Sháh’s command, might pass Out of Írán, Khalaj, and Turkistán. He made the line between them the Jíhún. There was among the troops one Shahra hight, A man of wisdom, rank, success, and fame. Bahrám made him the ruler of Túrán, And made his throne the crown upon the moon. When Shahra sat upon the silver throne He girt his loins and opened wide his hands, Set too the golden crown upon his head, And through the land joy universal spread.
