It may or may not have happened, but a long time ago, when animals and birds could talk, and roses were enchanted girls, a poor man lived in a distant country.
The poor man had a son, Farhad.
The poor man became old, he felt the approach of death, called his son and said:
“We have neither gold nor silver, I leave you nothing as an inheritance, my son, except this ketmen.” If you work, you will be happy. Goodbye. Bury this casket with me, don’t open it, otherwise a misfortune will happen.
A poor man died.
Farhad did not fulfill his father’s behest and opened the casket out of curiosity. He found a small mirror in it.
Farhad looked into it. He sees a flowering meadow, and beauties are walking through the meadow, and among them there is one - as lovely as a feather. Farhad could not take his eyes off her and fell unconscious.
Farhad would have lain for a long time if his friend Shapur had not come to him.
_ Shapur sees that his friend is lying as if dead, holding the mirror tightly in his hand.
Shapur took the mirror and saw a beauty with the face of a peri, with the eyes of a gazelle, with hair like radiance. The sun and the moon argued whether there was such a beautiful girl in the world.
Shapur ran out onto the street, scooped up cool water from the ditch and splashed it on Farhad’s face. Farhad came to his senses, saw a mirror in Shapur’s hands, and immediately remembered the unknown beauty. And Farhad became sadder than the night. He's sad and doesn't eat anything.
Whether he indulged in sadness for a long time or not, he and Shapur decided to go look for the beautiful peri.
We passed many mountains and steppes, visited many cities.
And then one day they came to the city of Begovat. There were high mountains all around.
Farhad looked around and was surprised. Even though it was summer, the trees were yellow and their leaves were falling off, as if in late autumn. The fields have dried up and the plants have faded. Thin people stood by the dry canal, exhausted from hard work. They used ketmen to hammer away at the rock.
“Hey, what kind of people are you,” Farhad shouted, “and why are you chiseling the rock?”
And the people said that it had been three years since they began to make an aryk in the rock to let water into the city and give life to the fields and gardens, sweltering from the heat and hot wind of Garmsil.
For three years people have been shedding tears and sweat, languishing from backbreaking labor, but the rock, as indestructible as iron, does not give in and all efforts are in vain.
“My friend, Shapur,” said Farhad, “these people are dying of hunger and thirst.”
And Farhad, rolling up his sleeves, took his father’s ketmen in his hands and hit the rock. Far-had had a lot of strength in his hands, but the rock did not tremble, and the ketmen broke into
parts.
In anger, Farhad ordered all the picks and ketmen to be brought to him, he inflated the forge and, having melted them down, together with Shapur he forged one huge ketmen, which even a hundred men could not lift.
Farhad took the ketmen with one hand, waved it once, waved it twice, and the result was a canal larger than the one that people had been digging for three years. Farhad struck again with his ketmen, struck two, and the mountain began to tremble. The rocks collapsed. People were delighted and rushed to help Farhad.
The city of Begovat was ruled at that time by Sultana Gul-chehra and she had her favorite niece Shirin.
Shirin looked from a high tower and saw a mighty hero crushing a mountain. Shirin ran to her aunt Gulchekhra and, caressing her this way and that, begged her to go and see the hero.
“After all, I swore an oath to marry the one who will return the Syr Darya to the Hungry Steppe,” said Shirin.
Farhad was so carried away by his work that he did not notice how Sultana Gulchehra and Shirin arrived.
Farhad stopped to wipe the sweat on his face, looked at those who had arrived, and then the wind threw back the veil from Shirin’s face and he saw the same peri that was in the mirror.
He just said: “Oh!” Farhad fell unconscious on the ground.
Everyone was surprised: what happened to Farhad? Only the faithful Friend Shapur knew what was the matter, but did not dare to say.
Farhad came to his senses, looked at Shirin, and couldn’t take his eyes off. Shirin was ashamed and looked only at Farhad slyly from under her eyelashes, like sharp arrows.
And suddenly the girl reared her horse and rushed away. The horse stumbled and limped, Farhad ran up, grabbed the horse with Shirin with one hand, lifted it onto his shoulders and started running. He ran to the palace and lowered the horse with the beautiful princess near the gate.
Farhad left without saying anything to Shirin or looking at her. The beauty was surprised and for some reason her heart became sad.
And the further Farhad went, the harder it became for him: “How can a thin-haired woman, born in velvet and silk, love me, a simple stonemason?”
He did not return to the ditch, but went up the mountain, sat on a stone, bowing his head in his hands.
And at that very hour, Sultana Gulchehra was preparing a feast in honor of the unknown builder. The messengers rushed to look for Farhad. They searched and searched, but everyone returned to the Sultana with nothing. Only the last messenger found him at the very top of the mountain.
They brought Farhad to the palace and seated him in a place of honor.
Farhad didn’t know what to do, he was so glad to see Shirin.
A merry feast began. Dutars rang. The girls, slender as gazelles, danced. The boys played wrestling. Everything was wonderful: songs, food, and dancing, but there was no Shirin. Farhad became gloomier and sadder.
But then Shirin came out to the guests. The radiance illuminated the faces of the guests. The music sounded more and more fun, the dancers spun faster. But Farhad and
Width During the entire feast they did not drink or eat anything, they just looked at each other.
Suddenly, ambassadors from the kingdom of Iran arrived. The rumor about Shirin's beauty spread throughout the world and reached the padishah of that country, the old, bald Khosrow. Khosrow decided to get the young pearl and sent matchmakers to Gul-chehra.
Sadness gave way to joy, the melodies of the golden-stringed saz fell silent, and laughter was not heard. Gulchehra knew that if she refused Khosrov, his anger would be terrible; he would go to war against Begovat, ruining villages and fields on his way.
“Hey, woman,” said the ambassador to Gulchekhra, “my master, the king of kings Khosrov, stood at the borders of your state with an army of many thousands.” Khosrov said: “Let Princess Shirin share my bed, and if not, I will not leave one stone unturned from Begovat, and the arrogant Shirin and you with ropes around your neck will follow my horse. Answer!”
Gulchehra bowed her head and said to the ambassadors:
“Princess Shirin is still young, she is timid and shy, like a wild gazelle goat. Shirin loves arrows, horses and hunting. Shirin is not thinking about marriage.
Khosrow was terribly angry at the refusal and with a huge army moved towards the city of Sultana Gulchehra.
Khosrov's horde approached the walls of Begovat like a black cloud.
The great drums of war beat, copper trumpets hummed, and fires blazed. The townspeople ran to the city walls to fight off the enemy.
“It’s not my place here in the city,” Farhad said to himself, “it’s not appropriate for me, a man, to hide from enemy arrows.”
Farhad went up the mountain, broke out two rocks with his giant ketmen, each the size of a house, and started throwing them up and catching them with his hands.
The enemy soldiers were surprised, turned pale, shook with fear, and ran to Khosrow:
“The Great Shah,” they said, “there is a terrible marvel on the mountain playing with rocks like apples.”
Khosrow came out of the tent, looked from under his palm - he really saw a mighty hero standing on the mountain and throwing entire cliffs to the sky
“Hey, man,” shouted Khosrow, “who are you and what are you doing there on the mountain?”
“I’m a stone thrower,” Farhad answers, and his breathing didn’t even quicken, even though each rock weighed forty pounds. “Go away, Shah Khosrow, away from here with your warriors, otherwise I’ll start throwing these toys into your camp.”
Khosrow was not afraid. He ordered forty of his chosen warriors in golden helmets and with golden shields to go to the mountain and bring Farhad alive or dead.
Forty warriors rushed to the mountain. Farhad threw a rock at them and not even a speck of dust remained from them.
Shah Khosrow became furious. He sent forty more selected warriors, but they too suffered the same fate.
Khosrow then wanted to send his entire army of many thousands against Farhad, but then the cunning vizier leaned towards the Shah’s ear and said:
“It is unworthy for a great Shah with a mighty army to fight some stonemason.” If you defeat Farhad, oh Shah, you will not gain more glory; if he defeats you, may Allah not allow this, Farhad, shame will fall on your head.
“What do you advise?” Khosrow said, getting angry. “Hurry up, otherwise I’ll call the executioner and...”
“Why call the executioner,” answered the cunning vizier, “where you cannot win with a sword, you can win with your mind.” Oh Shah, you want to get the hand of the beautiful Shirin. She dreams of the happiness of the people and, they say, took an oath that she would marry the one who would be the first to build a canal through the mountain and release water to the drought-stricken lands of the Hungry Steppe.
Khosrow became even more angry and shouted at his vizier:
“I am the great Shah of a great state, and not a farmer smeared in clay.” Why do you want to force me to pick up the ketmen and dig the ground? This won't happen.
The vizier smiled slyly and gave Khosrow advice.
Then Khosrow sent envoys to Begovat. They arrived at Gulchehra's palace.
They did not make any noise and did not threaten war. Their smiles were flattering and servile. They bowed low, right down to the ground.
“Our Shah,” they said, “only wanted to test the courage of the Begovat people.” And he conveys his respect and admiration. Khosrow, in love, does not want to forcefully seek the favor of the beautiful Shirin. No. Khosrov heard that the lovely Shirin would become the wife of the one who would be the first to turn the Syr Darya River into the Hungry Steppe. Is this true?
Then Shirin stood up, lowered her beautiful eyes in shame and said only one word:
-Yes.
The ambassadors bowed and modestly left.
Shah Khosrow himself soon arrived at the palace, accompanied by a magnificent retinue.
“Oh, sweetest of princesses,” he said, “I undertake to fulfill your wish.” Tonight the Syr Darya will flow to the dry lands of the Hungry Steppe.
Shirin was surprised. She felt pain in her soul, because
Farhad's beauty and courage deeply wounded her at the very
heart. She went out hastily with her servants
from the hall where Gulchehra received Khosrov and ran to
your chambers.
Shirin ordered to gather the messengers and ordered them to run in all directions, stop at every hut, every yurt, every house and beat the drums and announce:
- People who turn the Syr-Darya into the Hungry Steppe today will receive the hand of Princess Shirin.
Messengers ran in all directions, spreading this news.
Farhad heard the call of the heralds, grabbed his ketmen and rushed to the canal. The mountain trembled and staggered under the mighty blows of the ketmen, stones flew, blocking the flow of the violent river.
Thousands of people came running to look at the hero Farhad, thousands of people rushed to help Farhad in his noble cause.
And in the palace, Gulchehra organized a feast in honor of Shah Khosrow. Night has fallen. Khosrow's vizier slipped into the banquet hall and whispered something in his master's ear. Then Khosrow stood up and, bowing to Gulchehra, said:
“Oh wise Gulchehra, the wish of your niece, the lovely Shirin, has been fulfilled.” Water flows into the steppe. Everyone rushed to the roof of the palace.
And Shirin saw how the moon shone in the distance in the clean, transparent mirror of water. People dreamed about her so much. And there was water.
Khosrow bowed even lower:
- Oh, Shirin, keep your promise.
Why did Shirin’s heart clench so painfully: “Oh Farhad, where are you?” thought Shirin. In mad anguish she wanted to throw herself down onto the rocks. But she made a promise. If she crashes and dies, then Khosrow will take revenge. He will leave no stone unturned from the city, and he will destroy the people.
Shirin did not know that in the steppe it was not the water that shone under the rays of the moon, but the light was reflected in the shiny reed mats, spread in a long strip on the ground in the steppe by order of the cunning vizier.
The wedding feast has begun.
Like a round moon in the dark sky, Shirin shone with unheard-of beauty among Khosrow’s guests. There was a smile on the lips of the beautiful bride and tears in her eyes. The beauty's heart beat and yearned to be free, to where love called him. To find, to find him - my heart cried.
They screamed - karnai, tambourines, drums. The table was laden with food: pilaf, lagman, kabob, whole roasted lamb, shurpa, wine, nuts, sweets - everything was in abundance.
This is how Shirin became Khosrow’s wife.
It's morning. The night mirage melted away along with the predawn haze. Shirin and the people saw that there was no water.
People rushed at the deceiver Khosrow, but he only laughed, surrounded by strong warriors.
The inconsolable, deceived Shirin shed tears.
Farhad worked tirelessly all night. With his mighty ketmen, he broke rocks and threw them into the river, but the stream carried them away with him. Angry, Farhad grabbed the mountain, strained and moved it from its place.
Farhad sang a song about the beautiful Shirin, about happiness, about love.
One more effort and the river will stop its flow!
Then Farhad asked:
- Where is Shirin? Let him come and look at my work!
With their heads bowed, everyone was silent. Farhad's friend Shapur was also silent. Only the wind rustled sadly;
- Farhad, Farhad, Shirin became the wife of Khosrow. He deceived her, she doesn't love him!
But Farhad, shocked by the black news, heard the wind say: “Loves, loves Khosrow.”
Farhad no longer listened to what the wind was telling him. He only heard his heart whisper to him: “Why should Farhad sing to you - the nightingale is not singing to you. Why should you look at Farhad - the beautiful eyes are not looking at you. Why should you breathe Farhad - the roses are fragrant in another garden.”
In mad grief, Farhad rushed to the city. Shirin stood on his wall, shedding tears.
Farhad saw his beloved and rushed towards her, but the stormy Syr-Darya rushed between them. Farhad extended his hands to the beautiful Shirin and became petrified with grief.
Shirin rushed to Farhad, shedding streams of tears, and turned into a crystal clear river.
So the mighty Farhad rock stands to this day near Begovat on the banks of the Syr Darya, and towards it in the deep valley the quiet tears of the beautiful Shirin flow.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru