On the ancient Persian plateau, there once circulated a legend of love and sacrifice. In those days, Bahram, the prince of the Sassanian Dynasty, was young and valiant. His eyes were as profound as the starry sky over the Kavir Desert, yet he held a secret known to no one—he had fallen in love with a phoenix that resided atop the Elburz Mountains.
This phoenix was no ordinary bird. Its plumage was woven from flames and starlight, and with each flutter of its wings, golden feathers would shower down, blooming into ever-lasting red roses wherever they touched the ground. Legend had it that it had lived for a thousand years, witnessing the rise and fall of the Persian Empire, yet never had it felt affection for any living creature—until it encountered Prince Bahram, who had climbed the snowy mountains in search of wisdom to govern his realm.
The first time the prince met the phoenix, he was trapped in a blizzard. Frozen into unconsciousness, he dimly saw a warm flame approaching. When he woke up, he found himself lying in a cave covered with rose petals, and the phoenix was sheltering him from the wind and snow with its wings. “Why do you risk your life to climb this mountain?” the phoenix asked, its voice as melodious as a harp. Bahram told the truth: “My country is suffering from a severe drought, and people are displaced. I heard that the wisdom to bring sweet rain lies atop this snow-capped peak, so I came to seek it.”
The phoenix gazed into his sincere eyes and said slowly, “True wisdom is not found on the mountain top but in the heart. Yet if you are willing to make a covenant with me, I can bring vitality to your land.” It told the prince that the phoenix’s life was connected to the Persian soil. If it offered a drop of its heart’s blood, it would transform into spring rain to nourish the earth—but the price was a hundred years of slumber. In return, the prince must guard Persia’s roses for a century, and when it awakened, rouse it with the purest rose dew.
Bahram agreed without hesitation. The phoenix gently pecked at its chest, and a drop of blood, as red as a ruby, fell. In an instant, it turned into a downpour that flowed across every inch of Persian land. Dry rivers surged again, withered farmlands sprouted crops, and the people rejoiced, unaware that this vitality stemmed from the phoenix’s sacrifice. As the phoenix’s feathers gradually lost their luster, it turned into a streak of flowing light and 钻进 (darted into) the depths of the cave, leaving only a cave full of roses and a final exhortation: “Guard the roses, and you guard Persia’s hope.”
After returning to the palace, the prince declared the cave a forbidden area and tended to the roses himself. Whenever the roses bloomed, he would collect the morning dew and seal it carefully. He governed the country with justice and kindness, and Persia prospered unprecedentedly under his rule. Yet he never married, his heart lingering on the sleeping phoenix. As time passed, Bahram grew from a young prince into a white-haired king. On his deathbed, he passed the mission of guarding the roses to his son and left a last instruction: “A hundred years later, when the phoenix awakens, present this vial of rose dew to it, and tell it that Persia has never forgotten the covenant.”
A hundred years later, at dawn, the cave in the Elburz Mountains suddenly glowed with golden light, and the sleeping phoenix slowly opened its eyes. At that moment, Bahram’s great-grandson arrived with the rose dew that had been sealed for a century. When the crystal-clear dew drops fell on the phoenix’s wings, it instantly regained its former brilliance, spread its wings and soared into the sky. Golden feathers showered down again, and the land of Persia was covered with roses more vivid than ever before.
From then on, Persians regarded roses as a symbol of hope, and the phoenix became the divine bird that guarded the nation. People say that every spring, when roses are in full bloom, if you listen quietly in the morning garden, you can hear the phoenix’s whisper—it is conversing with the Persian land and responding to the covenant of love and promise made a hundred years ago. And the story of Prince Bahram and the phoenix has become the most touching chapter in Persian poetry, passed down from generation to generation.
