English
The Reign of Zav, Son of Tahmasp
One night, at bedtime, Zal sat down and spoke at length about Afrasiab.
He spoke too of his own famous warriors, of his champions and his companions.
He said: although a champion may have bright fortune and a clear mind,
we still need a king of royal blood who keeps the old traditions in memory.
An army is like a ship: the soldiers are the wind, and the king's throne is the sail.
Even if Tus and Gostaham have glory, and there are troops and many riders,
the crown and throne do not suit them; we need a king of wakeful fortune,
one who carries the divine grace, whose crown radiates wisdom.
They searched among the line of Fereydun for a king worthy of the high throne.
They found none but Zav, son of Tahmasp, who had the strength of the ancient kings and a hero's breeding.
Qaren, the high priest, and the frontier lord set out, with an army from Bamin and Gorzban.
They brought glad news to Zav: through you the crown of Fereydun is renewed.
The commander Dastan and the whole army have chosen you, O worthy of the throne.
When Zav heard the words of the priests, and the words of Qaren and the wise,
he came to the army of Iran, the royal crown placed upon his head.
Zal blessed his kingship, and Zav sat upon the throne for five years.
The man was old, eighty years, yet with justice and goodness he renewed the world.
He held the army back from wrongdoing, for he shared a secret with the pure God.
No one dared to seize or bind another, and after that they saw little killing.
But a famine had struck the world; the earth grew dry and the plants withered.
No moisture came from the sky at all; bread was weighed out and sold like silver.
The two armies stood facing each other like this for eight months, face to face.
Not for a single day did they wage a heavy war; it was no time for heroes' battle or chieftains' fight.
The scarcity grew so severe that no remedy remained; the army had neither warp nor weft, nothing left.
One by one they spoke with one voice: this evil from the heavens comes from us ourselves.
From both armies rose an outcry, and a messenger came to Zav,
saying: if from this fleeting world nothing has come to us but pain, sorrow, and hardship,
then come, let us divide the face of the earth and bless one another.
The chief warriors had emptied their hearts of war; the times were too harsh for delay.
Both sides agreed on this: to hold no ancient grudge in their hearts,
to divide the world by custom and justice, and never recall the deeds of the past.
From the sea of Peykand to the borderland of Tur, they parted the world, near and far,
onward like this all the way to China and Khotan; they granted kingship to that assembly.
From the frontier where the land of the nomad tents began, Zal's hand was kept away.
And on this side the Turks would seek no path; thus they divided throne and crown.
Zav marched his army toward Pars; he was old, yet he made the world new.
Golden Zal went off toward Zabolestan; each took a realm into his keeping.
The mountains filled with rolling thunder; the earth filled with color, scent, and beauty.
The world was like a young bride newly come of age, full of springs, gardens, and flowing water.
When a man keeps the nature of a leopard, the age turns dark and narrow against him.
Zav gathered all the great ones together and once more offered praise to the Creator.
The abundance that came out of scarcity, the Creator of the world held its key.
On every side they made a place of celebration; they cleared their hearts of grudge and curse.
So it went until five years had passed, and no one knew of pain or hardship.
But the fortune of the Iranians was slow to last: that just, world-ruling Zav passed away.