NOTE: 64

Mokats Mirza mounted the horse, [He] squeezed [the blood] from his hair. He turned his dark-pupiled eyes, hung [his head], [Blood] dripped from his beard, Hair fell from his red face, The mustache fell from his delicate lips, Yellow water poured from [his] white tongue[...]. May Kolot Pasha die unsatisfied in his desires! We came, we reached as far as the valley of Khnku, Safely we reached as far as the valley of Khnku; We saw [his] biers turned around [...]. A thousand pities for Mokats Mirza! May Kolot Pasha die unsatisfied in his desires! We came, we reached as far as Brnashen, Safely we reached as far as Brnashen:— The pitcher and the vessel bound to the bier, Drop by drop, blood spilled upon the ground. A thousand pities for Mokats Mirza! May Kolot Pasha die unsatisfied in his desires!