بخش 5

The Turks of China stood firm in this matter and chose two men from among themselves: Bidrafsh the great—an elder orator and mighty sorcerer—and another named Namkhvast, whose heart desired nothing but corruption. They wrote a fine and fitting letter in the name of the Lord of the world, knower of the manifest and the hidden, and sent it to Goshtasp the champion, king of the land, a receiver of the faith and worthy of the Kayanid throne. In it, Arjasp, commander of the Chinese champions—world-seasoned and a rider round the earth—wrote in royal style and with yabhghu’s benediction: O illustrious sovereign, who brightens the crown of king of kings, may your head be verdant and your body and soul sound—yet I have heard that you have taken a ruinous path, turning my bright day dark. An elder deceiver came, filling your heart with fear and menace; he spoke of hell and heaven and left no joy within your breast. You accepted him and his religion and adorned his path and ordinance, casting down your own royal customs and abandoning the Parthian rite, without looking behind or before. You are the son of that auspicious king to whom the crown was given amid the army; he chose you from his elect and set you before the Jamshid line, so that even Kay Khosrow and the vengeful reckoner deemed your honor greater than the Kayanids’. Greatness, sovereignty, good fortune, might, glory, and splendor—banners and caparisoned elephants, many armies, treasure and wealth—were yours; nobles loved you, and you shone upon the world like the Ardvisht sun in Aries. God chose you from the world, and your princes stood before you; yet you did not thank the Lord of the world nor acknowledge His right upon this path. After God made you king, your old sorcerer led you astray. When word of you reached me, on a bright day I read the star and wrote a friendly letter: when you read this, wash your head and body, do not show your face to the deceiver, loosen the band from your waist, and begin with clear wine and rejoicing. If you accept my counsel, no harm from the Turks will reach you; the land of the Kashanis and the Turks of China will be yours as Iran is yours. I grant you boundless treasures—horses of fine colors with silver and gold, their trappings set with gems—slaves with wealth and maidens adorned with curled locks. But if you do not accept, you will see my heavy iron bonds; after a while I will come and lay your kingdom to ruin, bringing an army of the Turks of China whose footings the earth cannot bear. I will pour the Jihun River full of musk, and with musk I will make the sea’s water thoroughly dry; I will burn your painted palace and uproot your roots and branches; I will burn the whole land and sew shoulders with arrows; as for Iranian men both old and young, I will not enslave them when no worth is found—I will strike off their heads; I will bring their women and children before me and make them all slaves of my city; I will raze their land utterly and pluck up their trees from root and base. I have said all that should be said—look deeply into this letter of counsel.