Here in this palace, where Bahram held sway,
The wild roes drop their young, and tigers stray;
And that great hunter king – ah! Well-a-day!
Now to the hunter death is fallen a prey.
Though you should sit in sage Aristo’s room,
Or rival Caesar on his throne of Rum,
Drain Jemshid’s goblet, for your end’s the tomb,
Yea, were you Bahram’s self, your end’s the tomb!
Whinfield
or,
In the palace where Shah Jamshid raised his cup,
The fox has come to rest, and the gazelle has given birth.
And Shah Bahram who hunted the wild ass all his life
Has at last been ensnared in the wilds by death.
Karim Emami