Shahnameh, On the Creation of the World, Part 4

Leyla: salām omid jān, thank you for joining us for another part of the Creation of the World, small topic, just no big deal. So in the last lesson, we got these visuals of all these elements coming together to form what we know of as the Earth, and the world, and lightness, and stars, and I think let's get right into our next part! 

Omid: Perfect. So the last part, as the stars appeared and lights started to shine brightly over this dark Earth, he continues from there, Ferdowsi, with verse 17. He says: “hamee bar shod ātesh forood āmad āb hamee gasht gerdé zameen āftāb” Let's start with the second half of that verse first, if I may. So he says, ‘the sun’ or ‘the light of the sun,’ “āftāb,” started to turn around the Earth, revolve around the Earth. And again, this is back to the geocentric model, where we now know, it’s the other way around, the Earth revolves around the sun. But back then, they believed that all the planets, all the stars, including the sun, revolve around the Earth. So he says, the sun began to continually circle the Earth, and fire kept going back to the first part. Fire rose upward, and water flowed down. In other words, fire again refers to the sun in this case, that took its place in the sky as it started to turn around the Earth, but also rains. The rains came, which is a very important part of the life of the Earth. Again, he's taking us through all of these necessary elements, through which then other kinds of life can appear. And especially now with the appearance of “āftāb,” ‘sunlight,’ and all of that “forood meeyād,” ‘water,’ that descends, “forood āmadan” is ‘to descend’. So with these two things in place, the next thing again is now “geeyā rost bā chand goonéyé derakht” He says, ‘by virtue of these things,’ that’s implied here, “geeyā,” “geeyā” or “geeyāh” are ‘plants,’ and “rost,” we said last time, “rostan” is to grow. “geeyā rost,” ‘the plants began to grow.’ “bā chand goonéyé derakht,” “chand goonéyé,” ‘many,’ or ‘several forms of,’ or ‘several kinds of’ “derakht,” ‘of trees.’ The plants and the trees begin to grow, and “bé zeer andar āmad sarānshān zé bakht” He refers to the plants and the trees, and he says ‘their heads,’ “sarānshān,” ‘their heads,’ “bé zeer āmad,” ‘were bowing down.’ “zé bakht,” “bakht” is like ‘fortune’ or ‘fate’. So he says: ‘it was their fate for their heads to be bowed down’. So what might Ferdowsi be talking about? Perhaps here is personifying the plants and the trees. And he's saying that fate, like the very process, the inherent process of their existence, declares that their crowns bent down. In other words, not just literally. Sometimes we see plants where the top of them are bending down, but more symbolically or more metaphorically, they humble themselves. They bow down to this cosmic order of existence. And also, as we see in the hierarchy of creation, plants are considered the lower rungs of creation. They're the less evolved entities, even though plants are amazing and very important. But in this process of creation, they are a little bit more in a humble position. So all of this can be understood as part of the idea of how Ferdowsi says, fate with how their heads would be bent down or bowed down. And he explains, he says: “bebālad nadārad joz een neerooyee napooyad chō pooyandegān har sooyee” He's talking about the plants and the trees from the previous verse. And he says: “bebālad,” “bāleedan” is ‘to grow,’ again, and maybe to grow proudly. But in that sense, he says, ‘that's what they do,’ “bebālad.” “nadārad joz een neerooyee,” “neerooyee” is ‘power.’ And so “nadārad,” ‘it doesn't have,’ “joz een,” other than that, any power, the power of plants, relatively to other kinds of creatures, is simply to grow upward. And he explains further, “napooyad,” “napooyad” means ‘it doesn't, they don't walk around.’ They don't move in this horizontal direction. “chō pooyandegān,” “pooyandegān,” are ‘creatures that can move in these horizontal directions.’ ‘Unlike those creatures, it doesn't have that power,’ “har sooyee,” ‘to go in any direction.’ It only grows this way. That’s the movement of plants, relatively speaking. Of course, we see trees spreading sometimes their branches, but he’s speaking in a way, more poetically, comparing the power that plants have, to what other creatures like animals have, which is not to move in different directions. So he's taking us through the steps of, one could even say, almost like evolution-like process. That different creatures appear, and each one, or each class of creature, has a different, and a greater, sense of power, or plants, or something, that the other one lacks. Does that make sense? 

Leyla: Yes. 

Omid: Great. “va z'ān pas chō jonbandé āmad padeed hamé rostanee zeeré kheesh āvareed” Now he explains, he says: “va z'ān pas,” ‘after that,’ “pas az ān,’ we say, which means ‘subsequently,’ ‘after that,’ “chō jonbandé āmad padeed,” “chō,” here means ‘when,’ or ‘as’. “jonbandé,” “jonbeedan” is ‘to move about.’ So “jonbandé,” exactly is ‘a creature that has the ability to move about in different directions.’ “āmad padeed,” ‘appeared,’ or ‘was created,’ or ‘showed up.’ Now. subsequently, when these other kinds of creatures that can move about came into existence, “hamé rostanee zeeré kheesh āvareed” What did they do? They brought all the “rostanee,” here, again, ‘the plants.’ They brought all the plants under their dominion. So in a way, we could say this is a reference to how plants became fodder for the animals. The animals appeared, what we call the animal class, and the plants became their food. They had dominion over the plants. And so now he describes how he understands the animals. He says, verse 21: “khor ō khāb ō ārām jooyad hamee va z'ān zendegee kām jooyad hamee” There’s some really good vocabulary words here. “khor,” which is from “khordan.” We have also the word “khoresh,” which means ‘stew.’ But generally, before it became stew, it just meant anything that you can eat, “khoresh”. 

Leyla: So you're not in the “khoresht” camp? 

Omid: Oh, absolutely not! “khoresht” is... 

Leyla: Oh, is it wrong? Okay. 

Omid: It's a fun word, but technically it's “khoresh.” 

Leyla: Oh, is it incorrect? I don't know, I had no opinion on it, but there's always a controversy. So they’re just wrong. 

Omid: No, and again, remember, language is as we make it. So if both you and I understand “khoresht,” then it is a word, and it’s not wrong. 

Leyla: Okay. So what you're saying is another one of these words that you don't think about very often, but “khoresh” is to eat. And when you think about the root of the word, it's like, oh, obviously “khoresh,” “khordan.” 

Omid: So technically and logically, it makes much more sense to say “khoresh,” that which is the subject of eating, it’s not what you eat. But Ferdowsi shortens that to “khor,” which here means “khordan,” it wants to eat, and “khāb,” “khāb” is ‘sleep,’ and “ārām,” is “ārāmesh,” which is ‘peace.’ 

Leyla: This is all I want too, “khor ō khāb ō ārām.” I'm going to make a poster. That's our new, what is that... live, life, let, you know what I'm talking about? 

Omid: Live, laugh, love? 

Leyla: Yes, live, laugh, love. This should be “khor, khāb, ārām.” 

Omid: “khor ō khāb ō ārām” 

Leyla: That’s a new business idea for you. 

Omid: You're branding yourself as an animal, according to Ferdowsi. 

Leyla: Oh, that's fine. 

Omid: Because as we see, when he gets to humans, there's something added to this. There’s something more than this. To be human means a little bit more than that. So he’s very specifically making a point here that it's really the animals that are just content with only this. 

Leyla: Oh, okay, okay. 

Omid: But still, nevertheless, I’m with you. I think those are wonderful things to have. So he says: “khor ō khāb ō ārām jooyad” “jooyad” or “jooyeedan” is ‘to seek.’ And “hamee,” ‘always’ or ‘all the time.’ So the animals, this is what they see, to eat and then to sleep peacefully. This is the limits of what they are interested in. And, “va z'ān zendegee kām jooyad hamee” “kām” is a word that means ‘it's their pleasure’. Something that's pleasurable. So ‘they seek pleasure,’ right? “kām jooyad” “az ān zendegee,” ‘in this kind of life,’ ‘in that kind of life.’ A life of just eating and sleeping restfully. This is their limits of what they are happy with, what they seek, what they feel is their aspiration and way in life. But now, he makes the contrast, so he starts to say, well, what are these animals lacking, at least according to Ferdowsi? This is, again, no disrespect to animals and animal lovers, but this is just his way of starting to lead up to humans. He says: “na gooyā zabān vō na jooyā kherad zé khār ō zé khāshāk tan parvarad” He's talking about the animals. He says these are creatures who, “gooyā zabān.” They don't have tongues. “zabān,” ‘to speak.’ Animals, we know now, they have their own language that they speak to each other. But from the human perspective, they don't have the ability to speak the way we do. “na gooyā zabān,” ‘no tongue to really speak.’ “va,” ‘and,’ “na jooyā kherad,” ‘they do not seek,’ “kherad.” “kherad” is really one of the most important concepts in Shahnameh. Ferdowsi has an entire section that is the praise of “kherad.” And “kherad” is not an easy word to translate briefly into any other language, but it refers to this very, very ancient wisdom in Shahnameh. This wisdom that's almost eternal, and primordial, and timeless. Us human beings, we'll see later, have access to this “kherad.” We can tap into this ancient wisdom and seek it. “jooyā kherad” is ‘that which seeks that wisdom,’ and seeks to tap into that ancient, eternal, divine wisdom. And he says, animals, not only do they not have the tongue to speak, they also don't have this urge, or this instinct, or this ability to go and seek that “kherad,” to tap into it. 

Leyla: But that's not a word that we use in current conversation, is it, “kherad?” 

Omid: Well, we use it in many different senses, actually. It's a little bit formal, but it is very much part of modern Farsi. We say so and so is very “kheradmad” or “bākherad.” And we use that to mean many different things. That could just mean that they're very intelligent, or they're very smart, or they're very wise, or they have a lot of knowledge, they’ve read a lot of books, they have the ability to reason things out. These are all different ways that we use the idea of somebody who is “bākherad” or “por kherad.” 

Leyla: So maybe like a good professor would be “bākherad?” 

Omid: Yes, exactly. 

Leyla: Would a politician be “bākherad,” if they are wise, ever? 

Omid: Don't get me started on that. 

Leyla: How does this relate to the concept of, is the word “far?” Is that what they say? 

Omid: “far” is a different concept, but also very much part of Shahnameh. “far” is more translatable as ‘glory.’ It's a very hard to grasp and hard to pin down quality that is bestowed from source, from the divine, on to some characters in Shahnameh, and others who don't have it are always seeking it. But it is a quality of glory, I would say, gloriousness. 

Leyla: So “far” is something that is bestowed upon you from above, but “kherad” is something you seek. 

Omid: Yes, it's something that you seek and you tap into. 

Leyla: “jooyā kherad.” 

Omid: Exactly, exactly. That “kherad,” that ‘wisdom,’ at least according to Ferdowsi, is not available to these animal creatures. And of course, also by deduction to the planets. But he's setting up the stage, obviously. He's saying, but these animals, they don't have access to that, they don't seek it. All they want is “zé khār ō zé khāshāk tan parvarad.” “khār” means ‘thorn,’ or perhaps like ‘thorny bushes,’ and “khāshāk” is like ‘undergrowth,’ this basic plants life. So “tan parvardan” is ‘to nurture your body.’ He sees animals as more about that material, corporeal pursuit, rather than the pursuit of something higher beyond just the material, corporeal aspects of existence. Does that make sense? 

Leyla: Yes. 

Omid: He gives them a little out, he gives the animals, Ferdowsi says in verse 23, he says: “nadānad bad ō neeké farjāmé kār nakhāhad az oo bandegee kerdegār.” He's still talking about these creatures, animals. He says, “nadānad,” ‘they don't know,’ ot ‘it doesn't know’, a creature like that does not know “bad ō neek,” ‘bad and good,’ “bad ō neeké” ‘bad and good’ of “farjām.” “farjām” is ‘consequences,’ ‘the end result.’ So ‘farjāmé kār” is the ’consequences of actions.’ He is telling us that, in his view, animals are not able to understand or think about the good or bad consequences of their actions. They don't have this capacity. And maybe, by virtue of that, we get to the second half of that verse. “nakhāhad az oo bandegee kerdegār.” “kerdegār,’” again, is the Creator, or that force that conducts the universe. And he says, this entity, we could call it the divine or source or whatever you like, “az oo bandegee nemeekhāhad,” ya’nee it doesn't expect this creature to be a good servant of the divine, because it doesn't even understand the notions of good and bad, right and wrong, and the consequences of its own actions. And so, because it doesn't have that capacity, it is not expected to live in service of the divine, in service of what we would call the highest good, because it doesn't even understand the difference between good and bad, and the consequences of things. Again, this is all set up and leading up to what Ferdowsi is now really talking about, eventually, which is us human beings. The implication here is that maybe we do have some of these capabilities, and so we can get to that, slowly but surely. 

Leyla: Wonderful. Okay, well, we'll get to that, I hope, in the next lesson.

Omid: I hope so, too. Yeah. We have seven verses left or so, so we should get there. 

Leyla: Perfect. We will leave it here on this lesson, and then we will come back with the thrilling conclusion of the Creation of the World in our next lesson. Okay. mamnoonam, omid jān. 

Omid: merci, leyla jān, always a pleasure.