To me, the noblest bird of all is she,
That ever sits on friends’ hands willingly.
May this Bāz-Nāma, written thus by me,
When I am dust, keep green my memory.
I wrote it in the Great Shāh’s golden days,
The King whose orders Heaven itself obeys;
High Rank and Fortune riding rein to rein,
With honour and with glory swell his train;
The game of courage captive in his noose:
His strength is mighty and his gifts profuse;