With the chronicle of Khosrow Anushirvan brought to its sublime close, the ancient world may show its age, yet the mind of the poet burns with immortal youth and fiery vigor. Though years have passed, the soul remains quickened by divine fire, crafting verses worthy of the sovereign whose name crowns all eloquence. When the preacher proclaims the virtues of Mahmud from the pulpit, even the cross of Christendom yields in reverence toward the holy faith of Muhammad. Long did this sacred chronicle remain veiled from the sun, Saturn, and the moon, kept hidden in secrecy until the time arrived for Mahmud's name to adorn its summit, casting praise across every horizon of the world. With his flashing blade—gleaming like refined Roman silk—the great monarch wrested the lands of India from idolaters, securing justice and power. May time itself flourish in his name, and may the revolving heavens rejoice over the radiance of his royal crown!