All your hopes in Khorasan shall be broken. You will now be obliged to flee to Tehran, Begler!
I have an hundred noble youths who watch you.
Nor do they lack attention; they will drag you to my presence, Begler!
Oh, Begler! I’ll bear off your guns to Khiva: your power is gone.
I’ll assemble my warriors on the plain.
If you have sense, remember my advice.
Send me a youth and a beautiful girl as a tribute.
Oh, Bhaee Mahomed![14] this is the time of my happiness.
The Koords, though a Persian tribe, are as much addicted to plunder as the Toorkmuns; and there is, perhaps, greater spirit in the following song in reply to the Tuka Toorkmuns:—