Thus now he knelt before the ruins,
Cold of sweat and heat of flame,
To vow the severed heads of those who brought the village to its shame.
Those who plundered, pillaged, pilfered lives would now accept the blame.
He would find them all with a mighty vengeance paid for in their pain.
Shah - Jan, the king of kings,
Wore seven rings and sixty feathers plucked from sparrow’s wings.
Growing fat on the throne where he sat like a stone
As a man who has known no hunger or shown no mercy
In promises broke like a bone.
Dispersed about his people,
Rostam calls out for his equals in thirst to rise and cast curse,
Exact the worst revenge on enemies to hang from trees.
The royalty must die
Like common beggars and petty thieves.
Those who rule against us will murdered where they stand.
Let our arrows rain from the sky to drain the blood into the land.
If mortal stands before us,
Strike him down with sleight of hand.
And if heaven rides against us,
God himself then must be damned
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