The holly-oak tree, with its large, oval acorns, used to cover the inner ranges of the Bakhtiari country. Now, environmental changes mean that it’s being lost. Lorimer describes how, in the old days of its abundance and “in time of scarcity [acorns] are ground into flour after prolonged treatment to get rid of their more unwholesome constituents. But, despite the poet, no one in my experience professes to like this kind of emergency food”.
Here’s the poem:
May my oak tree bear fruit and my she-goat bring forth young!
When my ground acorns and buttermilk come together, thanks are due to God.
Ripe acorn, O acorn! Dried acorns ground down:
He who has and eats not, may his house perish!
The ripe acorn pushed his head out of the acorn-cup:
Every Lur came at him with a long stick.
The acorn speaks:
When my ground acorns and buttermilk come together, thanks are due to God.
Ripe acorn, O acorn! Dried acorns ground down:
He who has and eats not, may his house perish!
The ripe acorn pushed his head out of the acorn-cup:
Every Lur came at him with a long stick.
With kind permission, from: Lorimer, DLR 1955 “The Popular Verse of the Bakhtiāri of S. W. Persia –II: Specimens of Bakhtiāri Verse”, Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies, Vol. 17, No. 1 pp. 109-110