With frenzied hands deformed her beauteous face.
The strong emotion choked her panting breath,
Her veins seemed withered by the cold of death.
Then gazing up, distraught, she wept again,
And frantic, seeing midst her pitying train
The favorite steed—now more than ever dear—
The hoofs she kissed and bathed with many a tear;
Clasping the mail Sohrāb in battle wore,
With burning lips she kissed it o’er and o’er.
His martial robes she in her arms comprest,