Teachers' ResourcesWhat are myths, legends and folktales?

Storytelling is common to every culture. Most people enjoy listening to stories. Storytellers have catered for the need for a 'good story' since the beginning of civilization. 

Most people have their own favourite story from childhood and, often, these tales are both fascinating and frightening. These stories include legends, myths and folktales.

What are legends? 

A legend is a semi-true story, which has been passed on from person-to-person and has important meaning or symbolism for the culture in which it originates. A legend usually includes an element of truth, or is based on historic facts, but with 'mythical qualities'. Legends usually involve heroic characters or fantastic places and often encompass the spiritual beliefs of the culture in which they originate.

What are myths?

A myth is a story based on tradition or legend, which has a deep

symbolic meaning. A myth 'conveys a truth' to those who tell it and hear it, rather than necessarily recording a true event. Although some myths can be accounts of actual events, they have become transformed by symbolic meaning or shifted in time or place. Myths are often used to explain universal and local beginnings and involve supernatural beings. The great power of the meaning of these stories, to the culture in which they developed, is a major reason why they survive as long as they do - sometimes for thousands of years. 

What are folktales?

A folktale is a popular story that was passed on in spoken form, from one generation to the next. Usually the author is unknown and there are often many versions of the tale. Folktales comprise fables, fairy tales, old legends and even 'urban legends'. Again, some tales may have been based on a partial truth that has been lost or hidden over time. It is difficult to categorize folktales precisely because they fit into many categories. 

What is the difference between legends, myths and folktales?

Myths, legends and folktales are hard to classify and often overlap. Imagine a line (or continuum) as illustrated below, with an historical account based on facts at one end and myths or cultural folktales at the other; as you progress towards the mythical/folktale end of the line, what an event symbolises to people, or what they feel about it, becomes of greater historical significance than the facts, which become less important. By the time you reach the far end of the spectrum, the story has taken on a life of its own and the facts of the original event, if there ever were any, have become almost irrelevant. It is the message that is important.

Folk-SpeechDefinitions

Chambers's Twentieth Century Dictionary1. Folk-speech the dialect of the common people of a country,

in which ancient idioms are embedded2 . * * *

EtymologyChambers's Twentieth Century Dictionary

A.S. folc; Ice. fólk; Ger. volk.

UsageIn literature:For this Little John cared not a whit, but when such folks gave jesting words to him he answered back as merrily, speech for speech.

"The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood" by Howard Pyle

You're going to make speeches and kiss babies, and tell the ordinary folks they're worth something after all.

"A Poor Wise Man" by Mary Roberts Rinehart

Elkanah's goin' to make a speech and there's eighteen teams of folks goin'.

"Keziah Coffin" by Joseph C. Lincoln

Dan's speech had had its effect and a good many folks voted out of sympathy.

"The Depot Master" by Joseph C. Lincoln

Convinced by this man's speech, the folk have changed their view and approve him for having concluded peace.

"The Acharnians" by Aristophanesthe "factory folk," had gained him a hearing.

"The Weavers, Complete" by Gilbert Parker

For this Little John cared not a whit, but when such folks gave jesting words to him he answered back as merrily, speech for speech.

"The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood" by Howard Pyle

Folk Speech of Cumberland, by Alexander Craig Gibson.

"Scandinavian influence on Southern Lowland Scotch" by George Tobias Flom

Substantially the same folk-speech exists wherever the Pennsylvania migration formed the main element of the primitive settlement.

"The Hoosier Schoolmaster" by Edward Eggleston

By its power you are able to understand the speech of all the wild folk of field and forest.

"The Magic Speech Flower" by Melvin Hix

So Green Valley folks leaned back, certain that this speech would be worth hearing.

"Green Valley" by Katharine Reynolds

Only in the folk-song were to be found the musical equivalents of the spoken speech.

"Musical Portraits" by Paul Rosenfeld

Here you will find the very heart of Ireland's spiritual adventure revealed in folk speech of inevitable beauty.

"The Best Short Stories of 1917" by Various

As with many shallow-minded folk, speech was Aunt 'Mira's safety valve.

"The Mission of Janice Day" by Helen Beecher Long

Bobby had a great trick of remembering speeches he had heard older folk make.

"Four Little Blossoms at Brookside Farm" by Mabel C. Hawley

What business had the pore folks's boy with the speech of a school-teacher or minister in his mouth?

"The Bondboy" by George W. (George Washington) Ogden

Now, that's a sentiment that would be fine for your orator who is making a speech about this time to your folks in Injianny.

"Si Klegg, Book 4 (of 6) Experiences Of Si And Shorty On The Great Tullahoma Campaign" by John McElroy

I ain't goin' to make a speech, folks, but I've got to tell you something.

"Happy House" by Jane D. Abbott

A speech from Sir James was one of the treats in which Edinburgh folks delighted.

"Sir James Young Simpson and Chloroform (1811-1870)" by Henry Laing Gordon

Educated folk despised all forms of speech but Latin.

"Renaissance in Italy: Italian Literature" by John Addington Symonds

How the First Head Was TakenIgorot

One day the Moon, who was a woman named Kabigat, sat out in the yard making a large copper pot. The copper was still soft and pliable like clay, and the woman squatted on the ground with the heavy pot against her knees while she patted and shaped it.

Now while she was working a son of Cal-chal, the Sun, came by and stopped to watch her mold the form. Against the inside of the jar she pressed a stone, while on the outside with a wooden paddle dripping with water she pounded and slapped until she had worked down the bulges and formed a smooth surface.

The boy was greatly interested in seeing the jar grow larger, more beautiful, and smoother with each stroke, and he stood still for some time. Suddenly the Moon looked up and saw him watching her. Instantly she struck him with her paddle, cutting off his head.

Now the Sun was not near, but he knew as soon as the Moon had cut off his son's head. And hurrying to the spot, he put the boy's head back on, and he was alive again.

Then the Sun said to the Moon, "You cut off my son's head, and because you did this, ever after on the earth people will cut off each other's heads.

Source: Mabel Cook Cole, Philippine Folk Tales (Chicago: A. C. McClurg and Company, 1916), pp.111-112.

The term "Igorot" is applied, somewhat loosely, to the indigenous peoples of the four mountain provinces of Luzon: Benguet, Mountain Province, Ifugao, and Kalinga-Apayao.

The Man with the CoconutsTinguian

One day a man who had been to gather his coconuts loaded his horse heavily with the fruit. On the way home he met a boy whom he asked how long it would take to reach the house.

"If you go slowly," said the boy, looking at the load on the horse, "you will arrive very soon; but if you go fast, it will take you all day."

The man could not believe this strange speech, so he hurried his horse. But the coconuts fell off and he had to stop to pick them up. Then he hurried his horse all the more to make up for lost time, but the coconuts fell off again. Many time he did this, and it was night when he reached home.

Source: Mabel Cook Cole, Philippine Folk Tales (Chicago: A. C. McClurg, 1916), p. 88.

The Boy Who Became a StoneTinguian

One day a little boy named Elonen sat out in the yard making a bird snare, and as he worked, a little bird called to him: "Tik-tik-lo-den" (come and catch me).

"I am making a snare for you," said the boy; but the bird continued to call until the snare was finished.

Then Elonen ran and threw the snare over the bird and caught it, and he put it in a jar in his house while he went with the other boys to swim.

While he was away, his grandmother grew hungry, so she ate the bird, and when Elonen returned and found that his bird was gone, he was so sad that he wished he might go away and never come back. He went out into the forest and walked a long

distance, until finally he came to a big stone and said: "Stone, open your mouth and eat me." And the stone opened its mouth and swallowed the boy.

When his grandmother missed the boy, she went out and looked everywhere, hoping to find him. Finally she passed near the stone and it cried out: "Here he is." Then the old woman tried to open the stone but she could not, so she called the horses to come and help her. They came and kicked it, but it would not break. Then she called the carabao and they hooked it, but they only broke their horns. She called the chickens, which pecked it, and the thunder, which shook it, but nothing could open it, and she had to go home without the boy.

Source: Mabel Cook Cole, Philippine Folk Tales (Chicago: A. C. McClurg, 1916), pp. 84-85.

DogedogTinguian

Dogedog had always been very lazy, and now that his father and mother were dead and he had no one to care for him, he lived very poorly. He had little to eat. His house was old and small and so poor that it had not even a floor. Still he would rather sit all day and idle away his time than to work and have more things.

One day, however, when the rainy season was near at hand, Dogedog began thinking how cold he would be when the storms came, and he felt so sorry for himself that he decided to make a floor in his house.

Wrapping some rice in a banana leaf for his dinner, he took his long knife and went to the forest to cut some bamboo. He hung the bundle of rice in a tree until he should need it; but while he was working a cat came and ate it. When the hungry man came for his dinner, there was none left. Dogedog went back to his miserable little house which looked forlorn to him even, now that he had decided to have a floor.

The next day he went again to the forest and hung his rice in the tree as he did before, but again the cat came and ate it. So the man had to go home without any dinner.

The third day he took the rice, but this time he fixed a trap in the tree, and when the cat came it was caught.

"Now I have you!" cried the man when he found the cat; "and I shall kill you for stealing my rice."

"Oh, do not kill me," pleaded the cat, "and I will be of some use to you."

So Dogedog decided to spare the cat's life, and he took it home and tied it near the door to guard the house.

Some time later when he went to look at it, he was very much surprised to find that it had become a cock.

"Now I can go to the cock-fight at Magsingal," cried the man. And he was very happy, for he had much rather do that than work.

Thinking no more of getting wood for his floor, he started out at once for Magsingal with the cock under his arm.

As he was crossing a river he met an alligator which called out to him: "Where are you going, "Dogedog?"

"To the cock-fight at Magsingal," replied the man as he fondly stroked the rooster.

"Wait, and I will go with you," said the alligator; and he drew himself out of the water.

The two walking together soon entered a forest where they met a deer and it asked: "Where are you going, Dogedog?"

"To the cock-fight at Magsingal," said the man.

"Wait and I will go with you," said the deer; and he also joined them.

By and by they met a mound of earth that had been raised by the ants, and they would have passed without noticing it had it not inquired: "Where are you going, Dogedog?"

"To the cock-fight at Magsingal," said the man once more; and the mound of earth joined them.

The company then hurried on, and just as they were leaving the forest, they passed a big tree in which was a monkey. "Where are you going, Dogedog?" shrieked the

monkey. And without waiting for an answer, he scrambled down the tree and followed them.

As the party walked along they talked together, and the alligator said to Dogedog: "If any man wants to dive into the water, I can stay under longer than he."

Then the deer, not to be outdone, said: "If any man wants to run, I can run faster."

The mound of earth, anxious to show its strength, said: "If any man wants to wrestle, I can beat him."

And the monkey said: "If any man wants to climb, I can go higher."

They reached Magsingal in good time and the people were ready for the fight to begin. When Dogedog put his rooster, which had been a cat, into the pit, it killed the other cock at once, for it used its claws like a cat.

The people brought more roosters and wagered much money, but Dogedog's cock killed all the others until there was not one left in Magsingal, and Dogedog won much money. Then they went outside the town and brought all the cocks they could find, but not one could win over that of Dogedog.

When the cocks were all dead, the people wanted some other sport, so they brought a man who could stay under water for a long time, and Dogedog made him compete with the alligator. But after a while the man had to come up first. Then they brought a swift runner and he raced with the deer, but the man was left far behind. Next they looked around until they found a very large man who was willing to contend with the mound of earth, but after a hard struggle the man was thrown. Finally they brought a man who could climb higher than anyone else, but the monkey went far above him, and he had to give up.

All these contests had brought much money to Dogedog, and now he had to buy two horses to carry his sacks of silver. As soon as he reached home, he bought the house of a very rich man and went to live in it. And he was very happy, for he did not have to work any more.

Source: Mabel Cook Cole, Philippine Folk Tales (Chicago: A. C. McClurg, 1916), pp. 91-94.

This tale is similar to Aarne-Thompson type 513.

Note by Cole: "The story shows the influence of the Christianized native, among whom cock-fighting is a very popular sport. It is found only among those Tinguian who come into contact with this class."

Addendum by Ashliman: Cock-fighting remains a very popular sport in the Philippines.

The Carabao and the ShellTinguian

One very hot day, when a carabao went into the river to bathe, he met a shell and they began talking together.

"You are very slow," said the carabao to the shell.

"Oh, no," replied the shell. "I can beat you in a race."

"Then let us try and see," said the carabao.

So they went out on the bank and started to run.

After the carabao had gone a long distance he stopped and called, "Shell!"

And another shell lying by the river answered, "Here I am!"

Then the carabao, thinking that it was the same shell with which he was racing, ran on.

By and by he stopped again and called, "Shell!"

And another shell answered, "Here I am!"

The carabao was surprised that the shell could keep up with him. But he ran on and on, and every time he stopped to call, another shell answered him. But he was determined that the shell should not beat him, so he ran until he dropped dead.

Source: Mabel Cook Cole, Philippine Folk Tales (Chicago: A. C. McClurg, 1916), p. 89.

Note by Cole: "Another version of this tale is found in the British North Borneo in the story of the plandok and the crab."

Addendum by Ashliman: Variants of this fable (Aarne-Thompson type 275A*) are found throughout Europe.

FOLK POETRYin Iranian languages. The term ‘folk poetry’ can be properly used for texts which have some characteristics marking them as poetry and belong to the tradition of the common people, as against

the dominant ‘polite’ literary cult 

FOLK POETRY in Iranian languages. The term ‘folk poetry’ can be properly used for texts which have some characteristics marking them as poetry and belong to the tradition of the common people, as against the dominant ‘polite’ literary culture of the area.

Given the breadth of this definition no comprehensive, detailed study of all folk poetry in Iranian languages is possible. All that our present state of knowledge allows is a general survey of characteristic aspects of the most important types and genres of folk poetry in Iranian languages. Little is known about pre-Islamic Iranian folk poetry

(for some aspects of Old and Middle Iranian poetry see Benveniste; Henning, 1942; idem, 1950; Boyce; Cejpek, pp. 619-22; Shaked). This article will therefore focus on those modern traditions which have been most fully described, i.e., on Persian, Tajiki, Kurdish, Pashto, and Baluchi folk poetry, with some reference to Ossetic. It is worth noting that folk poetry in Persian has received comparatively little attention from Iranists. It has been said that, while a large proportion of Persian polite literature consists of poetry, most popular literature in that language is in prose (Cejpek, p. 694); however, another reason for the scarcity of our data on the subject is probably to be sought in most Persianists’ predominant preoccupation with polite literature.

The above definition raises certain problems. In some cases (e.g., in Tajikistan, see Rahmoni; van den Berg; Bečka; Cejpek) poems which are held to have originated in the classical Persian tradition and are attributed to well-known classical poets, have been handed down as part of popular culture for so long that they can now legitimately be regarded as folk poetry. It is debatable, on the other hand, whether certain genres of poetry which are not part of a dominant polite literature but cannot be said to belong to the tradition of the common people, should be classified as folk poetry. The sacred poetry of the Kurdish Yazidis and Ahl-e Ḥaqq (q.v.), for example, is the preserve of a special class of transmitters, and is not widely understood by the general public. As far as form is concerned, however, these traditions clearly

form part of Kurdish oral literature, and in other regions similar genres can undoubtedly be qualified as folk poetry. The two genres in question will therefore be taken into account in this survey.

Some characteristic features. Traditionally, writing did not play a prominent role in the transmission of folk poetry, which therefore tends to have the fluidity and flexibility that seems characteristic of oral literature. Some types of folk poetry allow for a considerable amount of extemporising (e.g., Kurdish songs of mourning, see Allison, 1996; on the Tajik baytmoni see Rahmoni); however, essential features of such improvisations still tend to be determined by the genre. Some composers perform their own original compositions. Elsewhere poems whose authorship is known and recognised is

performed by professionals who are not composers (see Dames, pp. xvi-xvii). In yet other traditions it is not unusual for performers to claim authorship of songs which were in fact composed by others (see Darmesteter, I, p. cxciiii). In most cases, however, the singer or performer of a text neither is nor claims to be its composer. Anonymity, in fact, is sometimes held to be a characteristic of folk poetry, which is not true in all cases (see above; folk poems deriving from classical Persian poetryare generally attributed to a named poet, see van den Berg, pp. 106-13).

It is often claimed or assumed that the transmitter reproduces the text exactly as he has learned it (though in practice variations still tend to occur in such traditions); in other cases a certain

flexibility of transmission is acknowledged to exist, and the status of the transmitter may depend on his individual performance of a traditional text. In either case the essential elements of the text in question are usually well known to the audience before the performance.

Classification of oral poetry. While it is clear that each of the literatures concerned include a number of different “genres” determined by form and/or content, a precise definition of these poses certain problems. Local terminology and categories may differ from those a Western researcher is used to. The local population may not use explicit categories, or use an unexpectedly large number without providing clear information as to definitions and distinctions. Furthermore, local terms may

vary from place to place, and it cannot be assumed that a term known from classical Persian poetry has the same meaning when used in the context of a local folk genre. The word bayt (q.v.), for example, is used for a distich or verse in a range of Iranophone cultures (see, e.g., Rahmoni), but in Yazidi usage it denotes a long religious composition. In Tajikistan čor-bayti (čār-baytī)is one of several terms for a quatrain (Cejpek, p. 694; Rahmoni); a Pashto čār-bayta, on the other hand, may have a far greater number of lines (the genre is also known by various other names,see MacKenzie). In the Iranophone area as a whole the words robāʿī and do-baytī denote short poems with a fairly wide range of formal characteristics (in Pashto, robāʿī is used for the equivalent of the classical Persian ḡazal, q.v.; see MacKenzie). Formal

criteria which are generally regarded as important by Western researchers may not be perceived as such by Iranophone peoples: the term dāstāncharacteristically denotes a “tale” or “story line”; it may, however, be narrated in prose or verse form, depending on the area (cf. Cejpek, pp. 642-43).

Folk poetry and polite literature. As far as the relations between these types of literature in Iranophone areas are concerned, an important distinction is that between cultures whose polite and popular traditions use the same language (as in parts of Persia, Afghanistan, and Tajikistan), and those where different languages have traditionally been used (Kurdish, Pashto, Baluchi, Pamir languages). In the former case there has generally been considerable

influence both ways (cf. Lazard; Cejpek, p. 609; de Bruijn). Folk poems, for example, inspired new forms of Persian literature (see FAHLAVĪYĀT; on the popular origins of the robāʿī see Cejpek, pp. 694-95; Rypka, p. 94). Moreover, recitations of classical poetry may form part of popular performances; for instance, passages from the Šāh-nāma are recited as part of naqqālī performances in Persia (on the madāh performances of the Ismaʿilis of Badaḵšān see van den Berg, pp. 309 ff.).

Where the dominant literary language and the language of folk poetry differ, the two traditions are usually more independent; influence of the dominant (Persian, Arabic, or Turkish) tradition on folk poetry can be discerned in some cases, but much less in others. In cultures where folk literature uses

a non-dominant language, many works which enjoy great prestige locally exist only in forms that clearly belong to folk poetry. In some cases literary versions of such texts also exist in the local language: The Kurdish folk epic Memē Alan, for example, formed the basis of Aḥmad Ḵānī’s famous Mem ū Zīn (see Lescot, passim; Chyet, passim). In modern times, forms originating in folk poetry have sometimes been adopted by modern polite literature (for Tajikistan see Cejpek, p. 677).

NARRATIVE FOLK POETRY

Heroic epics. Epic texts, which often combine heroic, historical, legendary, and romantic features, can be narrated in poetry or prose, depending on the local tradition. Many epics consist of one or more cycles

(groups of texts centering around a particular hero or event), elements of which can be performed as semi-independent episodes. Reference was already made (see above) to the role of theŠāh-nāma in the popular culture of Persia; elements from the Šāh-nāma tradition are also preserved in Kurdish folk poetry (Nikitine, 1956, p. 194). Much of traditional Baluchi poetry consists of epic cycles(daptar). The oldest of these describes the tribes’ advent on the Indian subcontinent (which took place some time between the 8th and 12th century C.E.), and the subsequent conflict between two leading tribes, which was due to rivalry in love between tribal leaders (Dames, pp. xxi-xxii). A group of these texts deals particularly with genealogy (Elfenbein, forthcoming). Unlike the allusive historical poetry of some peoples (see Lyrical folk poetry, below), the

narrative style of these Baluchi texts is relatively straightforward, which helps to explain their long popularity. The Ossetic Nart cycles, which combine historical and legendary elements and are probably based on an ancient tradition (Dumézil, pp. 11-16; Cejpek, pp. 640-42), are generally narrated in prose. There are some exceptions, however, notably the “Song of Atsæmœz,” of which a version in poetry has been recorded. In Tajikistan, epic folk literature around the popular hero Guruḡlī plays an important role in folk culture; the epic, which is of Turkic origin, is recounted in verse in parts of the country, and in prose form elsewhere (see Cejpek, pp. 634-39; Rahmoni). The Kurdish epic Dimdim (q.v.), the story of a Kurdish leader who, seeking independence, builds his own castle and dies defending it, is

based on an historical event that took place in the early 17th century (Allison, 1996, p. 31). Most extant versions, however, have acquired many romantic elements.

Romantic themes. Many “romances” are known in Iranian folk traditions; some are of non-Iranian origin (e.g., the Alexander romance and the love story of Leylī and Majnūn), while others go back to pre-Islamic Iranian traditions (e.g., Vīs o Rāmīn, Šīrīn o Farhād, Ḵosrow o Šīrīn, tales about Rostam, see Cejpek, pp. 631 f.). Romantic tales in fact have a central place in the narrative folk poetry of Iranian peoples. The Kurdish epic, Mem ū Zīn is a tragic love story comparable to Romeo and Juliet; several other romantic tales of love (including Leylī and Majnūn) form part of Kurdish folk poetry. In Pashto such tales are also

traditionally told in verse form (see Darmesteter, II, pp. cci, 109-46; Heston, 1986; idem, 1988, pp. 8-9; Grima, pp. 150-54). The popular tale of Šer ʿĀlam and Memunəy, which describes how honor forces a man to kill his beloved wife because her reputation has been tainted by slander, aptly illustrates how such tales can reflect local culture (Grima, loc. cit.). In the Pashto-speaking areas romantic and moralistic tales in verse form (qeṣṣa) are widely available in the form of audio cassettes and chapbooks (cf. Grima, p. 150; on Baluchi romantic ballads, including a version of Leylī and Majnūn, see Dames, pp. xxv-xxvi).

Religious themes: Perhaps the most prominent genre of narrative folk poetry of a religious character is formed by the text of the Shiʿite passion plays (taʿzīa; see Cejpek,

p. 682). Narrative poems describing the Prophet Moḥammad’s birth (mawlūd-nāma) and his journey to Heaven (meʿrāj-nāma) are also important examples of this category, as are verse tales about saints, miracles, creation, and other religious themes (for Baluchi, see Dames, pp. 135-64; for Kurdish, see, e.g., Socin, pp. 166-74; Pashto qeṣṣa literature contains several texts of this type). Many Yazidi sacred texts and Ahl-e Ḥaqq kalām cycles narrate a sequence of occurrences (e.g., the events of sacred history, or legends) partly by means of allusive verses which assume knowledge of the tradition on the part of the audience (on the former, see Kreyenbroek, 1995a, passim; on the latter, see Ṣafīzāda, passim).

LYRICAL FOLK POETRY

Historical themes. Many texts of a historical nature in Pashto and Kurdish have some narrative features, but are on the whole to be classified as lyrical texts (for Pashto historical ballads see Darmesteter; on Kurdish texts of this typesee Allison, 1996, and idem, forthcoming). These compositions partly serve a purpose similar to that of narrative poetry, i.e., to recall historical events. However, apart from occasional narrative passages, they achieve this by means of allusions to a core of knowledge which is presupposed in the audience. Such allusions tend to evoke a mood or express a strong emotion, which is characteristic of lyrical poetry. Furthermore, these texts generally have the formal characteristics of lyrical poetry, such as limited length and (in Pashto) complex rhyme schemes (see Darmesteter, I, pp. cxciv-cci, II, pp. 1-83;

MacKenzie). The nature of these compositions implies that they tend to lose their popularity when the allusions are no longer understood. Recorded texts rarely go back further than a century before the time they were committed to writing. In some cultures (e.g., among the Kurds of Iraq; Allison, forthcoming) war songs are regarded as a separate category.

Socialthemes. Popular songs and poems with a social content are among the most ephemeral, and therefore least documented, forms of folk poetry. In pre-modern Iranian culture there were the satirical songs of buffoons (masḵara-bāzī, see Cejpek, pp. 687-88). James Darmesteter (p. 206) published a Pashto song celebrating the opening of a railway. Kurds often describe “political songs” (stranēd sīāsī, see Allison,

forthcoming) as a separate genre. Recent upheavals in Tajikistan are known to have given rise to new songs and poems about social questions (Rahmoni). However, very few collections of such texts seem to have been preserved.

Love themes. This is probably the most productive of all themes in lyrical folk poetry, and love themes can be found in many genres (on lyrical love songs whose topics derive from the epic tradition, see Allison, forthcoming). Love is a central theme in the folk poetry of Iranophone peoples, and the variety of popular compositions about love is so great that no representative survey can be given. The love referred to in such texts may be licit or illicit, happy or tragic, portrayed as real or obviously imagined. Popular love poetry may

reflect tensions between personal inclination and the demands of society, or illustrate aspects of the life and culture of a community in other ways.

Religious themes. Lyrical religious folk poetry includes such forms as popular songs for religious festivals (e.g., see Wakīlīān), lyrical poems about the Prophet, poems using mystical imagery, prayers in verse form, and meditations on such themes as the need to trust in God and the transitory nature of life (see, e.g., Darmesteter, II, pp. 90-107; van den Berg, pp. 428 f.). A Christian lyrical text in Kurdishissaid to have been composed by an Archbishop but has now become part of the popular tradition of the local Christian population (see Kreyenbroek, 1995b).

Sadness and nostalgia. The Kurds of Northern Iraq regard songs dealing with grief and nostalgia as a separate folk genre (stranēd ḡerībīyē, see Allison, 1996, p. 37). These themes play an important role in the folk literature of most Iranophone cultures (Pashto, see Grima, p. 148; Baluchi, see Dames, pp. 105-6; Tajik, see Cejpek, p. 698, Rahmoni; Badaḵšānī Ismaʿili poetry, see van den Berg, pp. 179 f.). Songs of this type, which may include elegies for the dead, often form part of the repertoire of (semi-)professional singers. Laments and poems to mournthe recently dead, on the other hand, are in some cultures performed mainly by women and may to some extent be extemporized (on the Kurdish šīn see Allison, 1996, pp. 42-44; Allison, forthcoming; for Pashto, see Darmesteter,

II, pp. 221-26; on the Tajikimarṯīa, see Rahmoni).

Various. Other forms of folk poetry include songs for particular occasions, such as weddings (on the Pashto bābu-lāla, seeMacKenzie, pp. 325-26; on Tajik wedding songs see Rahmoni), or harvests (see e.g. Rahmoni). Other specific genres include lullabies (generally, see Cejpek, pp. 695-96; Pashto, see Darmesteter, II, pp. 217-20), children’s songs (for Baluchi see Dames, p. 163), and riddles in verse form(for Baluchi see Dames, p. xxix).

FORMAL CHARACHERISTICS

Melody. In the case of texts which are sung, or recited in a singing voice, melody may play a significant role in determining the formal coherence of a text (on the role of

music in general, see Yarshater; for Middle Persian poetry, Shaked; for Baluchi, Dames, p. xxx; for Kurdish, Soane, pp. 163 f.). In some cases, such as Kurdish folk poetry, a detailed study of the role of melody is urgently needed for a better understanding of folk poetics.

Length. Narrative poetry is generally longer than lyrical texts. In narrative and some forms of lyrical poetry the requirements of form do not determine the exact length of a composition. Some types of lyrical poetry, on the other hand, are characterized by their number of lines (e.g., quatrains of different types [robāʿī, do-baytī,fahlavīyāt, tarāna]see Cejpek, pp. 694-95; Mokrī; van den Berg, pp. 142 f.; and Rahmoni). The Pashto lanḍəy (misrəy, tapa) consists of a single distich (MacKenzie, pp.

322 f.). In performance, a number of short texts may be recited together (Rahmoni; van den Berg, p. 167).

Rhyme. In many types of folk poetry rhyme is a important factor. Long narrative texts usually have simple rhyme schemes, e.g., that of the maṯnawī (aa, bb, cc, etc.; so does the Pashto qeṣṣa), or end-rhyme (ba, ca, da, ea, etc.). The latter may persist throughout the poem, or mark stanzas or “rhyme sequences” (for Kurdish poetry see Mann, 1909, pp. xxxvi f; Chyet, pp. 138 f.). In Baluchi epic poetry rhyme is apparently less significant than stress metre and number of syllables (see Elfenbein, forthcoming).

Shorter compositions may have the rhyme scheme associated with the classicalḡazal and qaṣīda (aa, ba, ca, etc.).

This is found in compositions originally deriving from classical Persian poetry (van den Berg, pp. 47, 249 ff.; Rahmoni), but also in songs and poems of non-classical origin (see, e.g., van den Berg, p. 185; on the Pashto robāʿī see MacKenzie, p. 323; on the various rhyme schemes of quatrains in folk poetry see Cejpek, pp. 694-95). More complex rhyme schemes are found where a refrain helps to mark the end of a stanza (see Rypka, p. 96; van den Berg, pp. 192 f.; on the permutations of this form in Pashto folk poetry see MacKenzie, pp. 320 f.).

Metre. Texts which can be defined as folk poetry but derive from or are strongly influenced by classical Persian poetry tend to follow the Perso-Arabic scheme of quantitative metres (see  ʿ ARŪŻ ; Rypka, pp. 92-93). Most other texts have different

metrical patterns, however, and the absence of an ʿarūż-metre is sometimes held to be a distinguishing characteristic of folk poetry (see, e.g., MacKenzie, pp. 319-20; cf. Mann, 1909, p. xxxii; Soane, p. 160). Other forms of quantitative metre (fixed combinations of short and long syllables) may play a role in such works (for Baluchi, see Dames, pp. xxix-xxxiv; for Badaḵšānī poetry, see van den Berg, p. 171). In other cases Iranophone folk poetry may have a stress or syllabic metre, or a combination of both (on stress metre in Kurdish, see Soane, pp. 163-66; on the combined role of syllables and stress in Baluchi prosody, see Elfenbein, forthcoming). Strict syllabic metres are found in Baluchi (Elfenbein, forthcoming) and Pashto (MacKenzie) folk poetry and in some texts from eastern parts of Kurdistan (see Mokrī; on the Ahl-e Ḥaqq kalāms, see

Ṣafīzāda, p. 29). No definitive conclusions have been reached regarding the prosody of most Kurdish folk poetry (see Mann, 1909, pp. xxxii f.; Soane, pp. 163-70; Nikitine, 1947; idem, 1956, pp. 296-71; Chyet, pp. 132-44). It seems clear that rhyme is one of the main factors to determine the form of much of this poetry, and the number of syllables probably plays a role also (on the possible importance of melody in some of these works cf. above).

FOLK POETRY AND MODERNITY

Live performance—whether by professional minstrels or nursing mothers, in communal gatherings or at home—has traditionally been the life blood of most of the poetic traditions described here. However, in many cases the natural milieu of such

performances was the traditional life of small communities (see, e.g., Kreyenbroek, 1996; Jānmahmad, p. 62), which may now have been eroded by migrations to urban centres, or simply by the advent of television in a village. On the other hand, performance traditions are sometimes adapted to urban culture and cassette tapes have made folk poetry accessible to those who no longer attend village gatherings. In recent decades Kurdish and Pashto popular poetry has reached large audiences in this way, and played a significant part in political and social events (Grima, p. 155; Kreyenbroek, 1992, p. 75). Moreover, in many cases those who have become urbanized have rediscovered the popular poetry of their people, claimed it as their cultural or indeed national heritage (for Tajikistan see Cejpek, Bečka, Hitchins,

Rahmoni; for Kurds Kreyenbroek, 1992), and published it in written form (Allison, 1996, pp. 31-2). Thus, while some of the traditions described here may not survive unaltered, the increased status of some folk poetry may cause it to live on as part of the polite literature of future generations.