English
Fereydun at Sixteen Learns of His Father's Fate
When Fereydun had passed twice eight years, he came down from Mount Alborz to the plain.
He came to his mother and asked: reveal to me what has been kept hidden.
Tell me, who was my father? Who am I? From what seed, from what lineage?
What should I say I am when I stand among people? Give me a wise account to hold.
Faranak said to him: brave seeker, I will tell you everything you have asked.
Know that from the land of Iran there was a man whose name was Abtin.
He came from the royal line, alert of mind, wise, valiant, and harming no one.
His ancestry traced back to brave Tahmuras, father after father, all remembered.
He was your father and a good husband to me; without him no day of mine was bright.
It happened that Zahhak, worshipper of sorcery, reached out from Iran to take your life.
I kept you hidden from him; how many bitter days I spent that way.
Your father, that noble young man, gave up his bright soul as a sacrifice for you.
On the shoulders of Zahhak the sorcerer two serpents grew, and they brought ruin upon Iran.
They emptied your father's skull of its brains and made it food for those serpents.
At last I fled toward a forest, a place no one would think to search.
There I saw a cow as lovely as bright spring, its whole body a wonder of color and pattern.
Its keeper sat in the forest, arms folded at his side, dignified as a king.
I gave you to his care for a long time, and he raised you tenderly at his side.
From the milk of that peacock-hued cow you grew strong, bold as a fierce leopard.
In the end, word of that cow and that meadow reached the king, detail by detail.
I snatched you away from the forest suddenly, a fugitive from palace, home, and family.
He came and killed that precious one, the gentle, voiceless nurse.
And from our palace right up to the sun's dust he raised destruction, and turned that height into a pit.
When Fereydun heard this, he listened closely, and his mother's words set him boiling.
His heart filled with pain, his head with vengeance, and rage drew a frown into his brow.
He answered his mother: the lion does not grow brave except through the test of battle.
Now that the sorcery-worshipper has done what he has done, I must set my hand to the sword.
By the command of pure God I will march and grind Zahhak's palace to dust.
His mother said to him: this is not wisdom; you cannot stand against the whole world.
The world-ruler Zahhak, with crown and throne, has an army girded to obey his word.
When he wants a hundred thousand from every land, they buckle their belts and go to war for him.
The way of loyalty and revenge is more than this; do not look at the world with the eyes of youth.
For anyone who has tasted the wine of youth sees no one in the world but himself.
In that drunkenness he throws his life to the wind; may your days be nothing but happy and bright.