There is war in the mountains of Tartary, and the kings of each side are calling to thee. The Afghans have slain the black ox, and are marching to battle. They have beaten upon their shields with their spears, and have put on their helmets of iron.
And I write the following commentary to it:
Here, we find many an interesting commonplace: battle as the quintessence of war, as well as another exotic locale (one that remains a war zone in our days!) as the setting of the conflict, tribal kings (khans) arming their men with shields, spears, and iron helmets (no firearms!)… the slaying of a black steer: as either sacrifice to the gods for good luck and victory on the battlefield, or as a symbolic declaration of war (I would like to quote Marvin Harris's essays on the Tsembaga Maring war-peace cycle, in which the truce is broken by uprooting the local "peace tree" planted at the end of last conflict… and the massacre of warriors on the battlefield is followed by the slaughter of a great number of pigs for a feast to which all survivors, both winners and losers, are summoned. The people of both feuding villages conclude the feast by planting the peace tree, and spend some time recovering from the wounds of war by having sons, farming yams, and raising pigs… until the boys and pigs have come of age and are ready to meet their destinies, as the tree is uprooted once more).
The enemy kings are calling for Death to come. That's interesting.
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