There was a man in those days of yore

Among plainsmen who speared with vigor galore

A noble man, both a king and a virtuous lord

Feared the World Creator and the cold wind's accord

He was called Merdas, noble and esteemed

In justice and charity, unmatched he seemed

He owned milk-giving cattle of great supply

From each, a thousand would yield nearby

He had milk cows, obedient and fair

And Arabian steeds with refined flair

Goats and sheep full of milk, just as keen

Given to maidens devout and pristine

To anyone in need, he offered milk's prize

And stretched forth his wealth with open ties

This pure-hearted man had one son indeed

Who lacked even a small share of love’s seed

The world-seeker’s name was Zahhak, untrue

Brave, frivolous, and impure in all he’d do

They called him Bivar-Asp in legends told

A Pahlavi name, in olden times rolled

Bivar, meaning ten thousand in heroic lore

Counted in Dari, as ten thousand or more

He owned Arabian steeds with golden reins

Ten thousand was the number of his domain

Day and night, he rode his steeds in pride

For grandeur, not vengeance, did he stride

One dawn, Iblis came in friendly guise

Appearing as someone wise and nice

He swayed the nobleman from the path of right

The youth lent his ear to Iblis’s plight

He said, 'First, I demand your sworn trust,'

Then I’ll share my words, just and robust

The kind-hearted youth obeyed without delay

As commanded, he swore in every way

'Your secret I’ll keep, never to reveal,'

And hear whatever truth you may unseal

He said, 'None but you deserves this place,'

Why should anyone else dwell in this space?

'Why need a father, with a son like you?'

Hear one piece of advice, strong and true

'This aged lord’s time will not long extend,'

Why wait, when you can make his rule end?'

'Seize his wealth and his glorious throne,'

For in this world, his place is your own

'If you keep faith in the words I say,'

You shall be king and ruler one day'

When Zahhak heard, he pondered deeply,

His heart was filled with sorrow for his father's blood.

He said to Iblis, 'This is not right,'

Speak of something else, for this won't suffice.'

Iblis said, 'If you abandon this matter,'

And stray from the oath and covenant with me,

The oath and bond will weigh upon your neck,

You’ll be disgraced, and your father will remain honored.'

He ensnared the head of the noble Arab,

Thus Zahhak chose to obey his command.

He asked, 'Tell me what this solution is,'

I will not turn away from your advice in any way.'

Iblis said, 'I shall devise a solution for you,'

And raise your head to the sun.'

The king had, within his palace grounds,

A garden, most delightful and serene.

Each dawn, the noble king would rise,

And adorn himself for prayer and devotion.

He washed his head and body in the hidden garden,

His servant would carry a lamp beside him.

Iblis brought forth deceitful plans,

And dug a deep pit along the path.

Then Iblis cunningly covered the deep pit,

Concealing it with brushwood and blocking the way.

The noble leader of the Arabs, seeking honor,

Came at night toward the garden.

He fell into the pit and broke to pieces,

The pious man who worshipped God perished.

To every good and bad, the noble king was just,

But a cold wind blew on his care for his son.

He raised him with tenderness and effort,

He found joy in him and gave him treasures.

But his ill-natured, reckless son,

Turned away from the path of justice and his lineage.

He conspired in his father's murder,

I have heard this tale from the wise.

An evil son, even if a mighty lion,

Will not dare spill his father's blood.

Unless, in secret, there is another reason,

For the seeker, the secret lies with the mother.

The vile and tyrannical Zahhak,

By this trick, seized his father's place.

He placed upon his head the crown of the Arabs,

And claimed the power to grant them gain or loss.