Sohrab, the mighty Rustum’s son, lies there,

Whom his great father did in ignorance kill

And I be not forgotten in my grave.’

And with a mournful voice Rustum replied:—

‘Fear not; as thou hast said, Sohrab, my son,

So shall it be: for I will burn my tents,

And quit the host, and bear thee hence with me,

And carry thee away to Seistan,

And place thee on a bed, and mourn for thee,

With the snow-headed Zal, and all my friends.