Book A4The First Kings: Jamshid and the Rise of Zahhak

Jamshid, the son of Tahmuras the wise,Took up the crown that reached toward the skies.

With all his father’s teachings firmly known,He rose and claimed the crown, the realm his own.

He wore the diadem of shining gold,And ruled with glory like the kings of old.

He girded on the royal farr as guide,And all the world obeyed him far and wide.

Contention ceased, and rest came over all;Div, bird, and pari answered to his call.

The world grew bright beneath his sovereign hand,And splendor spread throughout the glorious land.

“With divine farr, both Shah and Mobad I;In me the crown and sacred office lie.

The wicked from their evil course I turn,And lead all souls toward light for which they yearn.”

He forged the arms that warriors must wield,And opened wide the gate of honor’s field.

With farr he made the stubborn iron flow,And forged its strength to meet the coming foe.

He made the helmet, jowshan, cuirass bright,And quilted armor for the press of fight.

He forged the sword and barding for the steed,And every arm a warrior might need.

His eager mind brought every art to flower,For fifty years he labored, hour by hour.

Then fifty more he gave to cloth and thread,To clothe mankind for banquet, field, and bed.

From linen, silk, and wool the thread was spun,Fine cloth and costly fabrics were begun.

He taught men spinning, twisting strands to twine,And weaving warp with weft to fabrics fine.

Then woven cloth was washed and sewn with skill,And men learned every craft at Jamshid’s will.

Then, for mankind, he set in ordered placeThe four great orders of the human race.

He summoned craftsmen forth to fill this space,And spent another fifty years apace.

The first, the Katozians, served in prayer;Apart from other men, devout in care.

Upon the mountains he ordained their ways,That worship might alone command their days.

They bowed before the radiant Lord of all,And made His worship their enduring call.

The second rank the Nisarians were named,The lion-hearted warriors, battle-famed.

They peopled all the armies far and wide,The shield of kingdoms, and the nation’s pride.

Through them the royal throne remained secure,And through their deeds the warrior’s name endured.

The third, the Nasudi, tilled the ground;They sowed and reaped where ripened grain was found.

They ate the bread their own hands brought from soil,And heard no man reproach their honest toil.

Though ragged-clad, no master’s word obeyed,As free men on their given fields they stayed.

Their bodies free, the world through them was fed;No judge or quarrel troubled where they tread.

The sages said; and heed the words they gave:“Through sloth, a free man makes himself a slave.”

The fourth, Ahtukhushi, worked by hand,The craftsmen serving needs throughout the land.

Their craft was labor; thought was never still,Their restless minds grew sharper through their skill.

Thus Jamshid spent full fifty years in toil,Till all men found their place upon the soil.

For every order he assigned its place,That each might know his measure and his space.

He bade the Divs reshape the earth with skill,And mix the clay with water at his will.

They learned which forms could rise from tempered clay,And molded bricks to build without delay.

With stone and lime the Divs raised walls upright,And works of measured building came to light.

They raised great baths and palaces on high,And sheltering eyvans opened to the sky.

He searched the mountains for their hidden store,And sought bright gems within the stubborn ore.

Ruby and garnet, silver, shining gold;The mountain yielded treasures from its hold.

By magic from the hard stone these he drew,And opened hidden bonds no craftsman knew.

Then fragrant things he taught mankind to brew,The scents whose sweetness men would long pursue.

He brought forth camphor, bān, and fragrant musk,Aloeswood and ambergris from dusk;

He brought forth medicine for every pain,And showed how health might overcome its bane.

The secrets of good health he brought to light;No seeker ever reached so great a height.

Then over water he by ship would fare,From land to land he hastened everywhere.

For fifty years he labored over art;No craft stayed closed to wisdom’s searching heart.

When all these works were brought to fitting place,He raised his step beyond his former space.

He built a throne with jewels richly set,The like of which no eye had witnessed yet.

When he commanded, Divs bore it on high,And raised it from the plain toward the sky.

There sat the Shah, like sunlight in the air,While all the world gazed up in wondering stare.

The world assembled round his jeweled throne,Astonished by the farr that round him shone.

On Jamshid gems were scattered in a spray,And they named Nowruz for that newborn day.

On Ormozd day, when Farvardin began,The New Year opened for the world of man.

The body rested then from toil and pain,The heart found rest from rancor and disdain.

The chiefs rejoiced and raised the cup with wine,While harp and song proclaimed the feast divine.

That blessed feast remained from ancient kings,A royal memory that each Nowruz brings.

For three full centuries their fortune shone;Throughout the world, death’s shadow was unknown.

No pain or evil marred the lives of men;The girded Divs obeyed their bidding then.

They bent their ears to every human word,And songs of joy throughout the world were heard.

So years went by beneath his royal farr;The world saw only good beneath his star.

At last, from his high throne, he gazed about,And saw himself alone the world throughout.

Though knowing God, the Shah succumbed to pride;He turned from God and cast all thanks aside.

He summoned all the great men of his train,And spoke these words, grown arrogant and vain:

“I know no other sovereign on this earth;All arts that grace the world from me had birth.

I made the world as fair as you behold;It took the very shape my will foretold.

Your food and sleep and rest all come through me;Your labor, pleasure, clothing; all you see.

The royal crown and greatness all are mine;Who dares proclaim another king’s design?

Through medicine I made the sick arise;Through me death lost its terror in your eyes.

Your life and reason in your bodies cameThrough me; who doubts me bears Ahriman’s name.

If you acknowledge all these deeds as mine,Then call me World-Creator by design.”

Mobadan bowed; no answer could be heard;Then divine farr withdrew at Jamshid’s word.

For twenty-three full years his court declined,His troops dispersed, his champions left behind.

The wise have said: “When kingship comes to you,Serve God, and let your gratitude stay true.”

Dark grew the day for Jamshid in his fear;His world-bright farr began to disappear.

He wept blood-tears and begged his Maker’s grace;His farr still waned; dread darkened every place.

Among the desert riders, spear in hand,There lived a king who ruled that arid land.

A noble king, a good and upright man,Who feared the Maker, faithful to His plan.

Mardas his name, whose justice won renown,Whose generous hand brought honor to his crown.

A thousand head of every milking breedHe kept upon his lands for human need.

Goats, camels, sheep were gathered in his fold,Each kind a thousand, as the tale is told.

Milk-giving cattle grazed across the plain,With Arab horses swift beneath the rein.

Whoever needed milk could take his fill;His herds stood open to the needy still.

He had one son, the child he loved full well,Zahhak, whose name the ancient stories tell.

Bold, reckless, heedless, daring in his way,He rushed where impulse drove him day by day.

Biwarasp was the name the ancients knew,A Pahlavi name handed down as true.

In Pahlavi, biwar, the learned state,Means ten thousand when the Dari translate.

Ten thousand Arab horses, golden-geared,Were his; from them that ancient name appeared.

He rode out often, ranging on the plain,For royal state, not bent on war or gain.

One day Iblis approached in friendly guise,And seemed a well-wisher, sincere and wise.

He turned the young man’s heart from virtue’s track,And Zahhak listened, never drawing back.

The tempter’s words were pleasing to his ear;He never saw the ugliness draw near.

He gave him heart and reason, soul and trust,And heaped upon his own head grief and dust.

He saw the youth was trapped beyond release,And in his heart his wicked joy increased.

With polished phrases then he plied his art,Till wisdom drained from Zahhak’s mind and heart.

“I know of things no other man does know,Secrets that only I to you will show.”

The prince replied: “Then speak without delay!What would you tell me? Tell me now, I say!”

Iblis replied: “First pledge your word to me;Then I will speak and set my meaning free.”

The trusting youth then pledged as he was told,And swore the oath that placed him in his hold.

“Your secret I will guard from light of day;Whatever you tell me, I will obey.”

Then Iblis said, “Why should another standAs master in your house and hold command?

Why need a son like you a father still?Hear one good counsel and accept my will.

This aging master lingers in your way,While rank and honor still remain at bay.

Take up his wealth, his station, and his crown;Such royal greatness fits your high renown.

If you hold fast to all that I advise,The whole world under you shall be your prize.”

When Zahhak heard, he pondered in dismay;His father’s blood weighed on his heart that day.

He said: “Not so! Some other counsel share;This deed does not befit me; I forbear.”

Iblis replied: “If you should turn away,You break the oath you swore to me today.

The oath and bond remain upon your neck;Your father stays renowned; you sink to wreck.”

The Arab youth was caught within the snare,And chose the fiend’s command in his despair.

At last he said: “What must I do? Declare!Whatever you command, I now will bear.”

Iblis replied: “The remedy is mine;Your head shall rise, and like the sun shall shine.

I need no aid. My craft alone will serve;But keep your silence now, and do not swerve.”

Within the palace stood a garden fair,A pleasant orchard tended with great care.

Before the dawn, Mardas would rise each day,And make himself prepared to kneel and pray.

He washed his head and body out of sight;No servant bore a lamp before the light.

The evil one dug deep into the ground,Along the path where Mardas made his round.

He covered it with brush and leafy screen,Then smoothed the road till no dark trap was seen.

While night still held the garden in its gloom,The Arab lord walked unaware of doom.

As Mardas neared the hidden pit that day,His royal fortune turned and fell away.

His back was broken when he struck below,And death closed over Mardas, laid him low.

That noble king, through fortune good or bad,Had never spoken coldly to the lad.

He raised him tenderly through toil and care,Rejoiced in him and gave him treasure rare.

That shameless son, corrupted in his way,Cast every bond of kin and shame away.

He joined the plot his father’s blood to shed;I heard it from a sage of wisdom bred.

A wicked son, though lion-fierce and bold,From father’s blood will still his hand withhold.

If some dark secret lies behind the deed,Ask of the mother where the truth may lead.

Thus base Zahhak, unjust in heart and head,By this device assumed his father’s stead.

He wore the Arab crown in royal state,And dealt them gain and loss as ordered fate.

When Iblis saw his first design succeed,He joined its chain with yet another deed.

He said, “Since you have proved your pledge is true,The world’s desires have all come home to you.

If once again you pledge to follow me,And never turn from my command or flee,

The whole world shall be yours beneath the sun;Beast, man, bird, fish shall serve you, every one.”

So spoke Iblis, then changed his outward guise,And shaped a stranger scheme with cunning lies.

In youthful guise, well-spoken, clear of mind,Iblis approached, with flattering words refined.

He bowed before the king and praised his reign:“Let me prepare the dishes for your train.”

Zahhak received him into royal care,And gave him leave to serve the monarch’s fare.

The steward gave him every kitchen key,And granted him full power by king’s decree.

In those first days, men fed on what they grew,No flesh was slain, no blood their hunger knew.

But Ahriman conceived a darker art;To change men’s nature, poison mind and heart.

He meant through food to alter human need,And plant a darker hunger in the breed.

He slaughtered beasts and birds that roamed the land,And dressed their flesh with an accomplished hand.

With blood he fed Zahhak to make him bold,Like some fierce lion nourished to take hold.

So every word the tempter chose with skillMight bind the king more firmly to his will.

The first day brought him yolks of eggs to eat,A strengthening dish, nourishing and sweet.

Zahhak ate well and praised the cook’s fine art,Its savor had already won his heart.

Iblis replied, “May joy attend your reign;Tomorrow richer pleasures you shall gain.”

All night he thought what marvel he might bring,What new delight would captivate the king.

At dawn, as yellow ruby lit the blue,He brought the second banquet into view.

White pheasant, partridge, graced the royal plate,Prepared with subtle art for royal state.

The Arab king consumed the savory fare,And gave his foolish heart to the cook’s care.

The third day poultry, lamb were richly dressed,In varied dishes for the royal guest.

The fourth he served the back of tender veal,A young calf’s loin prepared to crown the meal.

With saffron, rosewater, and musk made fine,And richly flavored with well-aged red wine.

Zahhak, astonished by such mastery,Declared: “Ask now your due reward from me.”

Iblis replied, “O king, forever reign;May joy and sovereign fortune still remain.

My heart is full of love for you alone;Your face gives nourishment my soul has known.

One boon I ask, though lowly is my place;Grant me this favor as a sign of grace.

Allow me both your shoulders to embrace,To kiss them, touch them with my eyes and face.”

Zahhak discerned no trap, no hidden art,Nor guessed the evil in the tempter’s heart.

Off guard, the king replied without delay:“I grant your wish, come take it while you may.”

He kissed the shoulders; then beneath the groundHe vanished, and no trace of him was found.

No eye had witnessed such a fearful sight;Then horror rose from shoulders left and right.

From either shoulder, black and twisting, grewTwo serpents, hideous to mortal view.

Distraught, Zahhak had both cut off with skill,But steel could not subdue the monstrous ill.

Just like two branches from a wounded tree,The black snakes rose again, alive and free.

The wisest healers gathered at his bed;Each gave the counsel that his learning bred.

They tried each remedy that art could frame,Yet all their cures were useless just the same.

At last Iblis returned in healer’s guise,And spoke with calm deceit within his eyes:

“This fate,” he said, “was written by decree;Do not cut off the snakes; let them now be.

Let them remain; with food restrain their rage,And soothe them daily in their living cage.

Feed them with human brains from day to day;No other food will keep their rage at bay.

Perhaps in time, by this prescribed supply,The serpents themselves will weaken and die.”

Now weigh the purpose hidden in this plan:What did the tempter seek from mortal man?

Why name such food the cure their hunger needs?What deeper purpose lay beneath these deeds?

Perhaps by feeding human brains as fare,He sought to thin mankind beyond repair.

Perhaps his hidden wish, through scheme and strife,Was that the earth be emptied of human life.

Then uproar rose through Iran far and wide,And war broke out on every troubled side.

The bright day darkened over Jamshid’s reign,And men broke faith with him throughout the plain.

His farr grew dark and slowly slipped away,As crookedness and folly marked his way.

On every side a claimant sought the crown;Each raised an army, casting Jamshid down.

From Iran, troop on troop took up the roadToward Arab lands to seek a king’s abode.

They heard that one in Arab lands was king,A dragon-visaged, dread, and savage thing.

So all the restless chiefs and riders boldWent forth to Zahhak, as the tales have told;

They bowed before him, pledging their accord,And hailed him king, their sovereign and their lord.

The dragon-visaged king came sweeping on,And crowned himself as Jamshid’s strength was gone.

He gathered troops from every distant side,Iran and Arab forces stood allied.

His march assailed the throne that Jamshid held,And all his waning fortune was dispelled.

Hard-pressed by Zahhak, Jamshid turned and fled,And left the throne for Zahhak’s rule instead.

His crown, his throne, his diadem and gold,His army too; he left all he controlled.

The world went dark; Jamshid withdrew from sight,And lived concealed, a fugitive in flight.

A hundred years he lingered thus concealed,His fate by time and shifting fortune sealed.

But in the hundredth year he came in viewBeside the Sea of Chin, where he withdrew.

Zahhak seized Jamshid, granting no delay,And sawed him end to end in halves that day.

Long from the dragon’s breath he kept concealed,Yet in the end his refuge was revealed.

Time drew his crown and throne from him like strawDrawn hard to amber by its hidden law.

What king was ever greater in his reign?But what remained from all his toil and pain?

For seven hundred years his reign held fast,With good and evil mingled till the last.

Why seek long life within this world of change,Whose hidden ways no mortal mind can range?

It feeds you honey, sweetness without end,And speaks so gently, seeming like a friend.

You think its heart has turned to you alone,And pride yourself on the love it has shown.

You trust the world and open all your heart,Confiding every secret, every part.

Then suddenly its treachery is plain,And fills your heart with blood and bitter pain.

My heart is weary of this passing place;O God, release me from its harsh embrace.