Drawn from the Arabic sulṭān—once stitched in gold upon desert standards—Sultan glides into English as SUL-tən, cool as moonlit steel. The word once crowned rulers of Ottoman courts and Mughal gardens, yet, like a solitary brushstroke on washi, its power lies in elegant restraint: one decisive line that suggests mountains, rivers, and the wide hush between. Parents who gather this name to their hearts tend to envision a son whose spirit stands unbowed beneath both noon sun and paper-lantern night, a quiet sovereign of his own horizons. In America it lingers around the 700s in the charts, never common, never lost—an egret poised at the water’s edge, noticed precisely because it does not clamor for attention. Sultan is therefore a title made tender, an ancient crown recast as a lullaby: soft on the tongue, steady in meaning, and as enduring as the slow, deliberate cadence of history itself.
| Sultan bin Abdulaziz - |
| Sultan Agung of Mataram - |
| Sultan Rahi - |
| Sultan Bahu - |