to vow the severed heads of those who brought the village to its shame 

Those who plundered, pillaged, pilfered lives would not 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 rise against us will be murdered where they stand 

Let our arrows rain from the sky to drain the blood into the land 

If a mortal stands before us, strike him down with sleight of hand. And is heaven rides against us, 

god himself must be damned