Yūsuf va Zuleikha - Joseph and Zuleikha (Rogers)

THE poet Nasr-ul din Abdúlrahmán, called Jámi, from having been born in the town of Jám in Khorasán, was one of the most celebrated and prolific of Persian poets. Of his writings, the poem of Yusuf and Zuleikha, the latter commonly known as the wife of Potiphar, into whose house Joseph was sold as a slave in Egypt, is the most widely known and most appreciated in the Eastern world, especially among Mussulmans. Joseph is esteemed by them a type of manly beauty and virtue. Whereas the Jewish Scriptures in the Old Testament mention little in connection with him and Potiphar's wife but the fact of the temptation of the former, his resistance to it, and his consequent imprisonment, this poem enters into the details of the manner in which the latter became acquainted with Joseph in three dreams, in the last of which he informed her, rather prematurely, that he was Vazír of Egypt. As her health was suffering from her unrequited longing for Joseph, her father sends an embassy to Egypt to the Vazír to inform him of Zuleikha's state of mind, and obtains his consent to her marriage with him. The Vazír meets her on the road, and there Zuleikha, looking through a hole made by her nurse in the tent, finds, to her despair, that he is not Joseph. She is, however, received with all honour in Egypt. The poet then leads the reader to Canaan, and, after brief references to Adam and the patriarchs, relates the early history of Joseph, the hatred of his brothers to him on account of the dreams foretelling his future superiority over them, their putting him into a well, and finally selling him into slavery. When he is put up for sale in the market, Zuleikha sees and recognises him, and, doubling other people's offers, obliges the Vazír to purchase him. Then commences the account of her long and vain pursuit of him, until her nurse persuades her to allow her to build a palace in which wherever Joseph might look—on the walls, on the roofs, or on the floors—he might see himself pictured with Zuleikha in his arms. The palace completed, she leads him into it, and urges their union with every blandishment. He is on the point of yielding, when he sees something behind a curtain, which she informs him is the idol to which she is in the habit of praying, and which she has concealed behind a curtain that it may not see what she is doing. Horrified at this, he feels the position in which he has placed himself, and tries to escape; but Zuleikha overtakes him at the entrance, and tears his vest down behind. As he goes out, the Vazír meets him and leads him back to Zuleikha, who imagines he has betrayed her, and at once makes a counter-accusation against him, on which the Vazír, notwithstanding his denial of the charge, sends him to prison. Then a miraculous event is introduced, in which a child of two years of age is made to point out to the Vazír that, if Joseph is innocent, his vest will be found to have been torn from behind; but, if he is guilty, it will have been torn in front. Put to this test, Joseph's innocence is established, and he is released. One or two episodes are now introduced, which do not interfere with the main thread of the story. Zuleikha persuades the Vazír to imprison Joseph again, to hide the disgrace she has been brought to; and she still feeds her futile flame for him by visiting him secretly in prison by night, and looking by day at the walls that confine him. Then follow the interpretation by Joseph of the dreams of two of his fellow-prisoners, and its accomplishment by the death of one and the restoration of the other to favour. The king of Egypt dreams his two dreams of the seven fat and seven lean kine, and the seven fat and lean sheaves of corn. Joseph is sent for to interpret them; and, Zuleikha having admitted her guilt, he is restored to honour, and entrusted with the government of the land. The Vazír dies, and Zuleikha, being left in poverty, pines away for Joseph's love, and loses her beauty and her eyesight. She builds a reed-hut by the way-side, that she may hear him passing by, and at last gains admittance into his presence, and tells him who she is. He is moved with compassion, and, at her request, prays that her youth and beauty may be restored. This miracle takes place, and she again pleads for union with him. He consents to this on being directly inspired by the angel Gabriel. The marriage happily takes place, and the pair are blessed with offspring. Finally, Joseph dies, and Zuleikha also, after tearing out her own eyes in grief. The poem winds up with a diatribe against the fickleness of fortune, a homily addressed to the poet's son, and the winding up of the book with praise to God for its accomplishment, in which the date of its completion is given as in the Hijri year 898, or A.D. 1492.

Before the actual tale is commenced, a great deal of the preliminary writing common to Oriental poets has to be waded through. This has all been translated, with the exception of a few couplets in praise of Sultan Hussein, one of Jámi's patrons, as it not only contains some beautiful passages, but shows the child-like faith of the best type of Moslems, their real piety, and their devotedness to their religion. For this reason it will quite repay perusal.

It has not been a light task for the translator to put into rhyme over 7,000 couplets, whilst adhering to the literal meaning of the original. The attention paid to the latter point will, he trusts, prove a sufficient excuse for any want of smoothness the critic may find in the former. The partial translations into English that he has seen were far too free to be of use to students in studying the Persian, and Rosenzweig's edition, printed in 1824, in addition to being inaccurate in many instances, is in German, and therefore inaccessible to many in England, and more in India. The latter is, however, entitled to the present translator's warm acknowledgments for assistance in the elucidation of many obscure passages

The text made use of in this translation is the lithographed edition of Naval Kishor, published at Lakhnáo, the Persian notes in the margin of which have been found of much use. The transliteration of Persian words in the notes has been carried out on the Hunterian system, but the sounds of the “ye” and “váo” are those used in Persia— that is, “ee” and “oo,” and not “é” and “o,” as in India.

To those who have enabled the translator to bring out this work, which has been one of love for him, by their kind subscriptions for copies, he tenders his grateful thanks, and trusts they will not be disappointed.

THE TRANSLATOR.

O GOD! the rosebud of my hope unclose,
Show from th' eternal garden me a rose;
With smiles from that bud's lip my garden fill:
Into my brain that rose's scent distil.
Of restless trouble in this resting-place
Make me to know Thy own abiding grace.
With thoughts of gratitude full fill my mind;
Grant to Thy praise my tongue may be inclined.
Good days¹ with wisdom's guidance give to me;
Bestow in realm of speech the victory.
Of virtue full Thou didst a heart bestow:
That heart's wealth may my tongue both weigh and know.
My nature's musk-bag² it was Thou didst shred;
From Kâf to Kâf³ make me musk-perfume shed.
With verse a sweet tongue may my reed be found,
And may my book shed amber perfume round.
The word's accomplishment I cannot find,⁴
Naught of the book but name is left behind;
And in this tavern, with its tales so sweet,
Of that fair air no echo do I meet.
My comrades drank the wine, and they are gone;
They left the taverns empty, and are gone!
And ripened by this vain feast none I see,
A cup of that wine on whose hand may be.
Of wine and of cupbearer's bowl bereft,
For me but sorrow there is nothing left.
Come, Jámi, bashfulness now lay aside;
Whate'er thou hast, or clear or dregs, provide.⁴

The amulet of souls, to Him I cry,
On tongues whose praises as swords' lustre lie,⁵
For from His Name the tongue its object gains,⁶
And dew from fountain of His grace obtains.
Through Whom to wisdom do themselves declare
A thousand subtle points fine as a hair.
For that hair's sake the tongue a comb is made,
The teeth in order as the comb's teeth laid.
The Highest God, eternal wisdom, hail!
Strength to the weak to give Who dost not fail;
To heaven's host⁷ with stars Who givest light,
The earth with men as stars Who makest bright;
Of elements upon the four walls based,
Of the revolving sphere the vault hast placed;
The musk-bag on the rosebud's navel bound,
Round beauteous rose-bush rosy jewels wound;
For brides of spring Who hast fine raiment wrought,
The cypress on the stream its stature taught,
Who dost the lofty wind with grandeur crown,
And him himself who fancies castest down,—
To drunkards of the cup dost pardon give,
And back to Grace old hypocrites receive;
Their friend the night who watchful pass away,
His comrade who in labour spends the day,—
Of ocean of Whose Grace the spring-cloud born
Gives water to both jessamine and thorn;
The autumn wind from Whose mine's bounty-store
Rich scatters gold upon the meadow's floor,—
Who with His sweets the good man's palate fills
Poison in bitter-tongued one's joy distils.
His own existence is the brilliant sun,
Whence for each separate atom light is won.
From sun and moon His face should He e'er hide,
Their ball to non-existence would subside.
He is, and gave us being in His Grace,
Our non-existence did with life replace.
By hundred paths of fancy or of sense
From deepest earth up to the heav'n immense,
Should men ascend, or hurry down with speed,⁸
The least from His command are they not freed.
His essence from all “How” and “Why” is free,
Far freer than or low or high may be.⁸
From His divinity are “How” and “Why,”
Before His majesty low are the high.
Before Him wisdom aye perplexed remains,
Nor search upon His road a footing gains.⁹
Towards us should He not advance in Grace,
Each moment farther are we from His face.
When of His majesty the ringing cry,
In the eternal palace echoes high,
At their own folly are the angels vexed,
And at its own distraction heaven's perplexed.
'Twere better we, a handful steeped in lust,
Should from lust's mirror wipe away the rust,
Of our own being should forgetful be,
And henceforth sink of silence on the knee.

O heart, how long 'neath this inconstant sphere
Wilt thou with dust play, as do children here?
Thou 'rt that audacious bird brought up with care,
Beyond this sphere who dost thy nest prepare.
Why to this nest art thou becoming strange?
Like base owl why dost in this desert range?
Shake from thy feathers off this earthly leav'n,
And soar up to the battlement of heav'n.
See, the blue fringes¹⁰ in the dance are whirled,
The mantles shedding light throughout the world,
Revolving all by night as well as day,
Intent to seize of victory the way,
With its own motion each advancing still,
Dancing as ball struck by the mace of will,
One¹¹ from the West turns tow'rds the Eastern mark;—
One in the West will overwhelm his bark;
To-day's assembly one gives heat and light,
Whilst one illuminates the throng of night.
One¹² to his word the form of fortune lends,
Whilst¹² of good luck the rope another rends.
All on the road press forward with such zest,
That from their movement they will never rest.
Not wearied out by labour of their way,
For foot no rest, in loins no pains have they.
Who knows to what affair such energy they lend,
Or towards whom their faces all they bend?
Each¹³ moment though some new form they assume,
Painters¹³ to be would none of them presume.
In doubt's hand how long wilt thou place the rein?
“This is my God”¹⁴ to each repeat again.
Like God's friend,¹⁵ strike of certainty the door:
“I love not those that set,”¹⁶ cry more and more.
Toward one face above thy face inclined,
Doubt and suspicion banish from thy mind.
Behold and name One only; but One own:
Desire, and read, and seek for One alone.
Tow'rds Him a road from ev'ry atom lies
His being's evidence each multiplies.
The hearts of all wise men a writing bear:
“Pictures to paint a Painter must be there.”
On tablets though a thousand forms they write,
Without a scribe is not one Aleph right,
And no brick in this desert can one find
Without a model of a perfect kind.
Upon each brick the finger's pen has writ,
That hand of some wise man has fashioned it.
This word inscribed upon each bricklet's face,
Of the Brick-maker's self thou hast the trace.¹⁷
Creation manifest to all mankind,
To the Creator how turns not thy mind?
Turn to the Worker, seen His work, thy face,
And in the work itself the Worker trace.
In that last moment whence no man can fly,
Thy case may only with that Worker lie.
Bend upon Him the look of thy desire;
For blest end of thy case to Him aspire.

O God, from this existence we were free;
Terror of non-existence none had we.
Through Thee from naught to being we arose;—
Thou water and clay's fetters didst impose;
From impotency's weakness didst Thou save,
And us in place of folly wisdom gave.
A book, too, hast Thou sent where all is plain
What we should do, from what we should abstain.
Together good and bad did we confound,—
Failing at times, at times transgressed all bound,
The path of Thy commands did not pursue,
Our footsteps slipped in what we should not do.
Constant in favour's way dost Thou abide;
Salvation's light from us Thou didst not hide.
Though in Thy grace Thou hidest not the light,
What better, since we strive not, is our plight?
At our own want of earnestness we sigh:
Give us Thy grace, that we our best may try.
Both are submerged, the ignorant and wise:
What between ignorance and wisdom lies?
With evil purpose that lust would impose,
The way of good deeds to us do not close,
But in our sighing, in our narrow strait,
To mercy's road, oh! open us a gate—
Be tow'rds Thy temple on that road our guide,
And to the true faith bear us by Thy side.

I am that bird for whom thy grain is spread,
And whose enchantment is the charm I dread.
For my concerns dost thou arrange before,—
Thou openest for me of grace the door.
My service to approve the favour thine,
In trust to worship is the honour mine.
On thy path Surma-rubbed¹⁸ my forehead lies;
Thou hast rubbed Surma on my longing eyes.
Loos'ning my tongue thy praises to express,¹⁹
Thy name's love on my heart didst Thou impress.
A morsel mild and luscious to the taste
Within my mouth Thou from my tongue hast placed
One to the teeth that never causes strain,
Nor the throat swallowing feels any pain.
In thanks for this my words with sweetness bless;
Sweeten my acts and save from bitterness.
To evil words turns not my tongue for me;
Let not my tongue become my misery.
If in my pen a word of evil lies,
Question of “how” and “wherefore” whence may rise,
Draw through my evil word a pardoning pen;
Cast me, like seed, not into strife again.
I am as grass in Thy reliance reared,
Of mud and water by Thy own hand cleared:
Through ill desire my head turns every way,
My foot still clinging to Thy street in clay.
That clay²⁰ that to my foot in Thy street clings
Excels the rose²⁰ of Thee no scent that brings.
As this grove's bud grant me a single heart,
And as the tulip but one scar impart.
Upon this road a single heart is gain,—
To have a double heart can be but vain.
The single kernelled pastah²¹ teeth do not oppress,
As they the almonds do two kernels that possess.
A hundred grains the ear bears in its breast;
For grain its head is by the knife²² oppressed.
Buds from the thorn that single grow up strong
From a thousand prickles do not suffer wrong—
Beyond all limit though my sins be found,
Far more than these will aye Thy grace abound.
Two hundred harvests though my fault should be,
But one sigh's lightning burns them up for me.
Though of my sins a hundred books full lie,
Thou mayst wash them from my tearful eye.
For each rose-cheek that tinged my eye with red,
My blood is now from ev'ry eyelash shed.
That face's image wash I from my eye,
And thus upon my face blood tears must lie.
Towards disgrace though much my look has striv'n,
In my affair great glory tears have giv'n.
My own two eyes are rivers of regret,
Enough of honour till the Judgment yet.
That from this commerce²³ profit I may gain,
Bear to the Prophet of my song the strain.

He who with pen Mohammad's name has named,
Girdle and collar of its “Mim”²⁴ has framed.
The word erased from non-existence' board,
A ring for “mulk” and “malak”²⁵ would afford.
Can wisdom with all knowledge know what's hid
In that so secret “Há”?²⁶ Now God forbid!
In this six-sided sphere through it is manifest
Th' eight-sided grove of gardens²⁷ eight possessed.
With the Dál's²⁸ anklet when his foot he decked,
Did he the Faithful 'neath his feet subject.
In being's Council Hall, ah! what a name!
No other one has e'er excelled its fame.
Should my tongue chant one letter of the whole,
With pleasure would be filled my heart and soul.
Since such the name, what must its bearer be?
Far more illustrious than all is he.
The race of Adam in the earth are famed;
Most noble he of all who great are named.
God him the chief of every ruler made,
The headship of all prophets on him laid.
On being's road when Adam first did pace,
He spoke with love of his morn-bright'ning face.
Had he the road not, generous, open made,
When on the Mount²⁹ had Noah's ark been stayed?
God's friend obtained from him the balmy air
Which made the fire³⁰ for him a garden fair.
Messiah of his coming gave the tidings bright,
And Moses³¹ from his torch, too, looked for light.
From Canaan's realm a slave with money bought,
In Egypt to high place was Joseph brought.
When Sáleh³² from the vale his camel drew,
The Muhmil³³ brought to mind, both happy grew.
A graceful cypress of faith's garden he,
A pheasant from the grove of purity,
The heav'ns are based upon his stature tall;
Life to dead bones his lip will aye recall.
The cloud above him is the Chutter's³⁴ shade,
As golden dome the sun above his head.
His signal dart³⁵ when on the round moon's face
He struck with finger of miraculous grace;
Its “Mim”³⁵ asunder as two “Nuns”³⁵ was laid,
Forty was by his thumb two fifties made.
The pen since he himself held in his hand,
To split the moon his finger wrote command.
He did not write, yet with his reed in haste
Both Pentateuch and Gospel³⁶ were defaced.
His graceful cypress shadow never knew,
Yet did his grateful shade the world renew.
Yet dignity above all shadow lies,
And in his shadow are both earth and skies.
His body's essence of pure spirit made,
On earth none ever saw his spirit's shade.
Both earth and heav'n him with their shade supply,
And yet beneath his fort as shadows lie.
Wounded his lip by stone from foeman's hand,³⁷
Their backs were broken with a little sand.
Though their crude eyes were blinded by the same,
As bright with Surma Islam's eye became.
His mouth, that box of gems of pearly hue
With blood into a box of coral grew.
Resembling a dinár in mildness wise,
The stone proved him, as gold the touchstone tries.
When by that stone as touchstone proved was he,
There was no coin of greater purity.
To build the wall of faith was aye his aim;
And his four friends³⁸ in it four gates became.
Who in religion's road has suffered pain,
Who for each ill a med'cine did not gain?
Soul's med'cine, Jámi, be their pain to thee!
His heart by their grief ever nourished be!

The preface to good fortune's morn, one night,
Than blessing more the day that renders bright,—
The “Night of Pow'r”³⁹ an image of its might,
The full-moon night a charter of its light;
Its jet-black tresses even Huris⁴⁰ slight;
Its forehead's white star is a light on light.
The Zephyr combed its locks of spikenard hue,
Its air made droplets of the tears of dew.
With fixed stars' nail the planets' sphere that whirled
Had closed ill-fortune's gates against the world.
The wolf and sheep had both together slept,
And company the deer and lion kept.
The lip as smiling morn was with delight;
The day of trouble fled away all night.
Before that night the lamp⁴¹ that men beheld,
By men in honour worthy to be held,
Since fortune by his foes from him was kept,
In Ummeháni's⁴² house of wealth he slept.
To rest a pillow on the ground he laid,
A cradle for that tender life the earth he made.
His heart awake, his eye in sleep so sweet
As fortune's eye in dream might never meet.
Sudden the mighty Námus⁴³ entered in,
More quick in movement than this peacock green.⁴⁴
“Arise,” he rubbed him with his wing, and said:
“Thy dream to-night has thee to fortune led.
Out of this sleeping-place thy baggage bear,
Lively who hast earth's fortune in thy care—
Thy road to heaven I have now prepared
To bring Burák,⁴⁵ the lightning-paced, have cared.”
Wind-like upon the face of earth he scours,
Like the blessed Humá⁴⁶ in the air he tow'rs.
With philosophic wisdom he moves round the heav'n,
To him to mete earth as geometer is giv'n.
Upon his reins none lays his hand as yet,
And in his stirrup no foot has been set.
From idols as the heart away that flies,
The scar of trouble never saw his thighs.
Did he a stable want wherein to feed,
The heav'ns were busy to supply his need.
His tender back from saddle's pain is free;
And pain from none his saddle's back may see.
Religion's lord when from this fortune's place
He tow'rds the narrow saddle moved with grace,
Of holy ones in heav'n the voice was raised:
“Who made his slave ascend His name be praised!”⁴⁷
From Mecca whilst Burak in lightning pace
Struck with his hoof dirams⁴⁸ on the Aksa's⁴⁸ face.
A half or less than half a moment stayed,
A door-ring with his hoof's round cup he made.⁴⁹
In that mosque chief of prophets⁵⁰ he became,
Leader in rank of former ones of fame.
As thence he mounted tow'rds the heav'n blue
The moon a halo round about him threw;
Then slavery's brand upon its brow it laid,
And in this wise his name more perfect made.
Then higher rising still, upon the head
Of Mercury⁵¹ the choicest gifts he shed.
Thence as he rose to Zuhrah⁵² further on,
The border of his truth she seized upon.
To wash his foot with this rose-water pure,
Did the fourth heaven bring him out an ewer.⁵³
To the fifth heaven when his steed attained,
Mars kissed its hoof and profit thence obtained,
From his red lip on Jove⁵⁴ then pearls he shed,
And filled his hand⁵⁴ full of the gems he spread.
When his shoes rubbed upon the seventh sphere,
Were Saturn's⁵⁵ difficulties all made clear.
Thence on the Sidrah's⁵⁶ branch would he alight,
And Gabriel's wing was weary with its flight.
To the eighth heaven as he then moved on,
Through him the fixed star's eye more brightly shone.
The Pleiads and the Daughters of the Bier⁵⁷
In verse and prose ring out his praises here.
Glad at his face's light, the Eagle,⁵⁸ too,
Like to the moth, around him circling flew.
With joy at his fair cypress-form as well
Down at his feet the Lyre⁵⁹ as shadow fell.
In pleasing thought to the Atlas⁶⁰ sphere he flew,
Himself down at his feet then Atlas threw.
To aid, Saráfil,⁶¹ from his ambush sprung,
A room of green⁶² as litter round him flung.
And when the green had honour from him known,
Quickly there took him from its hand the Throne.⁶³
Left with this sphere his body as a rag,⁶⁴
To robeless nothingness he raised his flag.
His draughtsman from the board he saved with force:⁶⁵
Beyond the narrow space he leapt his horse.
From this low vestibule they bore his clay
Upon that lofty shrine his hand to lay.
He found a place from all space that was freed,
To body not forbid, nor soul indeed.
Of fate antiquity washed off the rust;⁶⁶
The possible by need aside was thrust.⁶⁶
But he remained free from constraint of all,⁶⁷
Free both of what is great and what is small.
He saw what was beyond the bounds of sight.
Ask me no farther of what took place that night.
No question is there there of “how?” “how long?”
Hold back from what is one or more thy tongue.
There words unspoken by a voice he heard,
Mystery on mystery, secret word on word.
Nor tongue nor palate is of it aware,
Nor speech nor explanation is there there.
The soul's ear had but wind to understand;
To reach its sense the heart was short of hand.
Too narrow for it wisdom's clothes became,
And in its desert learning's steed grew lame.
Too high for sight or hearing to attain,
From speaking of it must the tongue refrain.
Place no foot, Jámi, thou beyond thy bound;
Withdraw from this soul-wearing ocean's round.
Words in this martyrs' place speak none at all:
Place seals upon thy words, for God knows all.

By absence the world's weary soul is torn:
To us, God's prophet, be thy mercy borne!
On both worlds to have mercy is't not Thine?
Why dost thou careless sit of those that pine?⁶⁸
O moist, fresh tulip, from the dust arise!
How long, Narcissus, shall sleep hold thy eyes?
Thy head from out the shroud of Yaman⁶⁹ raise;
Thy face is as of life the morning rays—
Turn into day for us this doleful night,
And with thy countenance our day make bright.
An amber-scented robe around thee wind,
And on thy head a camphored turban bind.
Let from thy head fall down thy waving hair;
Round thy fair cypress' foot a shade prepare.
Of Tai'f's⁷⁰ skins make for thy foot a shoe,
And of our souls' ropes latchets for it, too.
Experienced men are carpets in thy street,
And would as carpets kiss thy blessèd feet.
From chamber to the holy plain thy foot be led;
Of those who kiss thy road stand on the head.
Assist thou those who low before thee lie;
To those who give their hearts with love reply.
Though in crimes' ocean we immersed are all,
Dry-lipped in dust upon thy road we fall.
'Tis well Thou art the cloud of grace, and why?
That sometimes on the thirsty thou mayst cast an eye.
Blessed we when we approach thee through thy dust,
And thy streets' dust into our eye have thrust.
Towards thy mosque we bow in grateful prayer,
And to thy lamp as moths our souls repair.
Bold wandering among thy groves we went;
Cage-like, our heart in many holes was rent.
Out of their cloud, from eyes that never slept,
On thy grove's holy threshold tears we wept.
The dust we swept at times from off that plain,
Or gathered thorns and rubbish thence again.
With that light blackness to our eyes impart,
With this we lay a plaster on our heart.
Towards Thy pulpit then we took our way,
From off our face in gold its foot to lay.⁷¹
From Thy Mehrab,⁷² we sought our aim in prayer,
And with our eye's blood washed Thy threshold there.
We stood upright at ev'ry pillar's base,
And as the righteous prayed Thee for Thy grace.
With happy hearts, though scarred with Thy desire,
We set the candles with our hearts on fire.
Our bodies though dust of that holy plain,
Thank God, our souls may ever there remain.
Helpless am I through breath of self-conceit;
Look on my feebleness and pardon mete.
Should like Thy favour nothing us befriend,
Naught could we bring to a successful end.
Ill fate will throw us off our proper way;
For God's sake hear us when to God we pray,
Assurance of our life that He bestow,
And we in things of Faith may firmness know.
Of Judgment when the dread shall rise at last,
He fire upon our honour may not cast,
But give, though we have strayed from right indeed,
Command to thee for us to intercede;
Thy people's ball, with bowed head as a mace,
Thou mayest bring to mediation's place;
That Jámi's business, through thy favour meet,
The scoff of others, may be made complete.

Best preface to the book of wretched men,
The ink that flows off from our master's pen.
None of the painters could a picture limn,
On great men's tablet wonderful, like him.
In royal garb when poverty there comes,
Through Ubeidullah's management it comes.
Mark of true poverty on whom is seen,
He lordship's tunic draws his feet between.
Of his own will be poverty who knows,
His khirkah⁷⁴ on his form to tunic⁷⁴ grows.
In his eyes is the world a simple field;
He loves the produce only it should yield.
The grain, contemptible in mortal's eyes,
Comes to his net straight down from Paradise,
And in a thousand fields the seed he sows
Will give food as to Paradise he goes.
Seed in this field he scatters far and wide,
In the next world his granaries to provide.
What's a dust handful on the road to him,
To whom a pinch of dust the world would seem?
The dust-pinch on the road⁷⁵ that he may see,
Whence on his skirt defilement can it be?
Be it the Kaiser or Faghfour⁷⁶ of Chín,
Both equally his ears of grain will glean.
Wherever upon tillage he is bent,
Just like his cattle, he is aye content.
And if his gracious favour should allow,
Heaven and earth's bulls would together plough.⁷⁷
His bounteous grace the harvest-corn to tread
From Taurus down the heavenly Bull has led.
Behold the heav'n with bright stars sprinkled o'er,
As sieves of grain out of His harvest store.
Shouldst to His husbandry thou not say nay,
'Twould be as if “Great Spirit!” thou shouldst say.⁷⁸
Compound or simple though the earth may be,
All is embraced within His clemency.
Grass from His bounty profit gains at length,
And tow'rds perfection reaches in His strength.
Can this that mighty spirit's value raise?
And of it aught but blame can be this praise?
Higher than thought the place for him to dwell,
Beyond the faculty of tongue to tell.
His heart a sea of Allah's mysteries:
One drop alone 'twixt full and new moon⁷⁹ lies.
And when tumultuously swells the sea,
How can a mere drop's motion patent be?
When an observer sits with fast-closed eye,
Both worlds forgets his heart's eye by-and-bye.
Yet sees he One, by no one who is bound,
And thus in trivial straits is never found.⁸⁰
Above both and below His face is shown:
In small as well as great Him must we own.
In His existence one oneself blots out,
And looks on being two with eye of doubt.
Should in the sea a drop to nothing turn,
How can its presence one again discern?
Ah! happy those upon his dust who lie,
Heart and soul to his saddle-straps that tie!
All in his capital are prosp'rous made:—
All in his light are blotted from his shade.
Oh! from the world may not his shade take flight;—
Of him deprived day's eye is void of light.
The years of angel-natured nobles free,
May they than heaven's circlings longer be.
Those of his sons especially of name,⁸²
Who of his virtues great enjoy the fame,
In this begilded and rust-coloured sphere,
Their grace and generosity appear!
May this world be the mirror of their aim,
Their feet in this light win a martyr's fame!

TO SET FORTH THAT EVERY ONE FROM BEAUTY AND LOVE IS A BIRD FLOWN OUT OF THE NEST OF UNITY, AND THAT HAS RESTED IN THE THICKET OF THE MANIFESTATION OF PLURALITY.

In that lone place in which no life had been revealed,
The world in non-existence' corner lay concealed,
Of no pair to itself this being thought,
Nor “we” and “thou” into its speech had brought.
Beauty that needed no exhibitor to show,
And manifested to itself by its own glow.
Of unseen bridal chamber beauty she,
Her skirt of sin from all suspicion free.
Never might mirror back reflect her face,
Nor the comb's hand her locks in order place.
The zephyr of her hair ne'er broke a thread,
Nor Surma dust around her eye was spread.
The spikenard⁸³ with her Rose might never blend,
Nor beauty to that rose her verdure lend.
Her face of down and ev'ry mole was free,
Nor could the eye her ev'n in fancy see.
But from herself she heard a charmer's voice,
And for herself she threw a lover's dice.⁸⁴
And yet, wherever loveliness holds sway,
A beauty with a veil will not away,
For to a beauty modesty's a bore;
She's at the window if you close the door.
Behold the tulip in the time of spring,
How sweetly in the hills 'tis blossoming;
Beneath the rock it splits its flow'r in twain,
And in this wise it makes its beauty plain.
Should now this secret penetrate thy mind
(Such thread of mysteries you rarely find),
Thou canst not ever drive away the thought:
In speech or writing 'twill be forward brought.
Wherever beauty is 'twill this demand:
Beauty on this took from of old its stand.
It pitched its tent the holy realm outside,
Displaying to all souls and spheres its pride.
In ev'ry mirror⁸⁵ it displayed its face;
It conversation held in every place.
On king and angel there flashed out its flame,⁸⁶
Angels as whirling spheres perplexed became.
All heav'nly things that in the pure rejoice
Incontinently raised their holy voice,
And by the divers⁸⁷ in the sea of heav'n
Shouts of “Praise to the Angels' Lord”⁸⁸ were giv'n.
Of atoms of the earth were mirrors made;
On each reflected was their faces' shade.
A ray of light fell thence upon the rose,
And in the nightingale's heart tumult rose.
Itself the candle with that fire illumed;
In each abode a hundred moths consumed—⁸⁹
When with its light the sun in splendour blazed,
Out of the flood its head the lotus raised—
When Leila with its face adorned her cheek,
Must Majnoon for her hair in phrensy seek—
With sugared smile when Shirin's lips would part,
It ravished Farhad's life, Parviz's heart.
Beauty displays itself in every place,
Though it be veiled from earthly lover's face.⁹⁰
When Canaan's moon raised from its breast its head,
Out of Zuleikha's soul her senses fled—⁹⁰
It holds each hiding veil that thou mayst see:
What renders captive hearts is its decree.
In love for her alone the heart can live,
Strength to the soul her love alone can give.
The heart with longing to the fair that turns,
Knowing or not, for her with passion burns.
Beware! make no mistake or e'er aver:
“Love lies with us, and goodness rests with her.”
Mirror art thou: what decks the glass is she:
Whilst thou art hid, she ever clear will be.
As thou art good and art approved in love,
In thee appears what first in her did move.
If thou look well, the mirror's self is she,
Not treasure only, but the treasury.
For me and thee, our business here is naught;
We can have nothing here but futile thought.
Be still! The tale will not continue long,
And no interpreter requires her tongue.
'Twere better we in love should still remain:
Without this converse we are all in vain.

THE PALM TREE OF SETTING FORTH THE EXCEL-LENCE OF BEING IN LOVE, AND THE BRANCH OF THE COMMENCEMENT OF THE REASON FOR THE COMPOSITION OF THE BOOK TO ATTACH TO IT.

That heart's no heart that is without love's pain:
Without it bodies moistened clay remain.
Tow'rds passion's pain thy face turn from the earth;
The world of passion is a world of mirth.
Of love's sweet pain may never heart be free,
On earth without love may man never be.
With passion's tumult full of strife the world,
The heav'ns from love's desire⁹¹ are madly whirled.
Be passion's captive! Be this aye the thought,
That all the pious this pursuit have sought.
Be passion's captive, that thou mayst be free;
Lay on thy breast its burden, glad to be.
Love's wine with warmth and ardency will bless:
All else brings melancholy selfishness.
Freshness may lovers in love's memory claim;
In its recital aye gain greater fame.
Had Majnun of this cup not drunk the wine,
How in both worlds would thus his glory shine?
Both wise and good full many men have gone,
Who of love's passion naught have ever known,—
Their name remains not, and no trace as well;
In time's hand of them there's no tale to tell.
Sweet and melodious there is many a bird,
Whose tale from people's lips is never heard.
When feeling people tell of love the tale,
They speak of moths and of the nightingale.⁹²
Though in the world thou many things essay,
Love only takes thee from thyself away.
Turn not thy face from love, though it be feigned;
Access to God's truth through it may be gained,
On board⁹³ the alphabet hast thou not read,
To learn the Korán how canst thou be led?
A pupil to his Pír⁹⁴ I once heard say,
That he should help him in the righteous way.
“Thy foot love's path has never trod,” said he.
“Go, be a lover: then come back to me.
“Of form the wine-cup until thou hast quaffed,
“Thou canst not taste of mystery the draught.⁹⁵
“But in the form⁹⁶ thou shouldst not delay,
“Across the bridge but quickly take thy way.
“If at the stage thou wouldst lay down thy load,
“Thou shouldst not stand upon the bridge's road.
“Thanks be to God that, living in this cell,⁹⁷
“Light on my love's path my footsteps ever fell.
“Without musk saw the nurse my navel's cord,—
“She quickly cut it of love with the sword.
“When to my lip my mother placed her breast,
“Love's sorrow in my mouth with milk she pressed.
“Though now my hair of milk is as the hue,
“That passion's flavour to my heart clings, too.
“Nothing in age and youth compares with love,
“And me its magic power will ever move.
“Jámi, since thou in love art growing gray,
“Be merry still, and in love pass away.
“Now of love's wantonness a tale relate,
“That in the world thy traces may be great.
“With point-creating pen a figure trace
“That when thou goest still may keep its place.”
From love when came this voice my ear to greet,
My sense met her without⁹⁸ with honour meet.
The girdle of obedience on my soul I bound,
And of enchantment a new mode I found.
Now if God give me favour, I agree,
And if my palm of truth should fruitful be,
Love's pain will I depict in subtle wise,
That wit shall burn the baggage of the wise—
Smoke will I spread throughout the azure sphere,
And the stars' eyes shall fill the swelling tear;
The word on such foundation will I place,
That it shall fill my heaven with thy grace.

THE GATHERING OF THE NOSEGAY OF FLOWERS FROM THE MEAD OF EXCELLENCIES OF LOVE, AND THE TWISTING UPON IT OF THE FINISHING STRING OF THE REASON FOR COMPILING THE BOOK.

The word's the preface of the book of love,
It is the new wine, too, of passion's grove.
Whatever, old or new, has borne the earth,
Has in the word, the wise man says, its birth.
No manager has wisdom like the word;
Equal memento has the world ne'er heard—
Of Káf and Nún⁹⁹ the word breathed to the pen.
On being's page it took to writing then.
As the pen's Káf from káf¹⁰⁰ to being grew,
A generous fountain from its spring it drew.
The people of the world, both high and low,
Are in mad tumult from that fountain's flow.
When in this heat the lips in speech unclose,
From mystery's garden it becomes a rose.
Seizing its skirt, the spirit's breath will lead,
And with all grace convey it from its mead;
Then to the ear's gate it will make a way,
And at its coming sense will go astray.
The mind will greet it then with honour due,
Tight as a bud the heart embrace it, too.
At times it brings the lip a smile of joy,
Presses at times grief's moisture from the eye.
On lip of those who mourn a smile appears,
Or from the smiling lip rain down the tears.
With it when I thus see God's power blend,
That I withdraw from it may God forefend!
Attention to this wine has made me gray;
Be now my task to drive old age away.
No more the secret in my heart I'll keep,
But make the world laugh or will make it weep.
Old is the tale of Khusro and Shírín;
In sweetness shall a Khusro new be seen.
Leila and Majnun's time is fully spent,
Yet will I now produce a new event.
Like parrot to eat sweets my mood I'll move
In Joseph's beauty and Zuleikha's love.
God calls the tale the fairest one can say,
And I will tell it in the fairest way.
When that fair beauty shall revealed appear,
For lies there will remain no entrance here.
The wind with falsehood's not content, forsooth;
Though thou shouldst tell it as a seeming truth,
The word with truth is aye adorned the most;
The moon but at its full can beauty boast.
The first of morning's dawn is never bright,
For it boasts falsely of the beam of light.
When the true dawn in heav'n itself displays,
As the sun's beam in heav'n its flag 'twill raise.
And if with his thy art thou shouldst adorn,
From that lamp to the heart no ray is borne.
On ugly form why dost thou sew brocade?
Not fair thereby the ugly may be made.¹⁰¹
From gold stuff ugliness assumes no fairer hue,
But towards ugliness reverts the gold stuff, too.
A rosy hue becomes a rosy face;
Its fairness waxes through the rose-hue's grace.
A dark rose-colour if on it you paint,
The eye sees nothing but a darksome taint.
His beauty more than all the fair one's there,
With Joseph not one beauty could compare.
She who no second has 'mong beauties all,
Her can they but a second Joseph call—
Of lovers none was like Zuleikha fair;
Zuleikha passed them all in passion there.
From childhood up to age her passion grew;
In rule and beggary did she love renew.
After old age and poverty and pain,
Of fresh youth when the time came back again,
Faith and love's road she trod and none beside,
Born and bred up in it, in it she died.
Although Zuleikha was beloved by all,
Joseph's the greater beauty one might call.
The tale of both of them this book shall teach,
And my pen scatter round the gems of each.
With ev'ry coin of theirs that I may spend
A casket of fresh wisdom will I blend.
If some good man, such is my hope indeed,
In this love-book of mine some word shall read,
Leaf-like, he may not turn from me his face,
Nor with his finger's pen my words efface:
If here and there an error he should see,
This accident he may not lay on me;
As far as may be, to amend may try,
Or else in silence he may pass it by.

THE STORY OF THE LIGHTING OF THE CANDLE OF JOSEPH'S BEAUTY IN THE NIGHT-PLACE OF THE HIDDEN WORLD, AND THE BURNING OF THE MOTH OF ADAM'S HEART BY ITS FLAME.

To whom of mystery's sea the pearls to weigh is given,
Those who the pages read of the Divine Word of heaven,
The world's tale to recite when they began
'Twas thus of Adam that the story ran.
When his eye opened to behold the day,
Revealed, his progeny before him lay.
Behind there and before, the prophets' race,
Each in his order stood and fitting place:
And separate the saints in order meet,
Stood, one beside another ranged their feet.
The throng of earthly monarchs of renown,
Each ruler wearing there his glorious crown;
Whilst other mortals, rank on rank stood they,
In fitting fashion and in fair array.
When Adam tow'rd that crowd had turned his eye
And saw of each the varied company,
Joseph, that moon, then came into his sight;
No moon, a lofty sun of honour's height!
A light selected from that company,
Above the crowd a torch erected high,
The beauty of the fair before him lost,
As in the sun's ray is the starry host.
The cloak of charming to his shoulder mete,
A hundred mantle-clothed ones at his feet.
Beyond all thought was his perfection found,
The thought itself of sense beyond the bound—
God's robe of favour on his shoulder borne,
Upon his head a crown of glory worn.
The morn of blessing on his forehead lay,
Night's darkness from his face the martyr's day.
Before him and behind the prophets all,
Made pure of earthly darkness from the pall,
Free of defect all souls of purity,
To right and left their standards lifted high,
On that sun-candled altar place they raise
The sounding melody of prayer and praise.
Adam, astonished at the glorious show,
In manner of amazement whispered low:
“God, from whose rosebud did this flower spring?
“Whose is this play, the eye enlivening?
“Why on him shines this fortune's brilliant ray?
“This dignity and beauty, whence are they?”
A voice: “Of thine own eye he is the light,
“Thy heart which grief has seen that renders bright,
“Of Jacob's garden thou a plant dost see,
“From Abram's desert a gazelle is he.
“His hall of state is raised above the heaven;
“To him the throne of Egypt's land is given.
“And the great beauty that his face displays
“The envy of the fair of earth shall raise.
“She holds a mirror up before thine eyes:
“What treasure, then, thou hast give him as prize.”
He said: “Of grace, see, open is the door:
“Of beauty's six parts I have given four—
“Now of that beauty which the fair possess,
“What others have with two do Thou him bless.
“His casket¹⁰² opened idols to destroy,
“For beauty's type he may all ‘Suls’¹⁰² employ.”
Tow'rds his own bosom then he Joseph drew,
From loving heart inspiring virtue new.
Of his own love he made him then aware,
And as a father kissed his forehead there.
Like nightingale upon his rose for blessing prayed,
From his son's love as opening rose himself displayed.

THE BRINGING OF THE PLANT OF BEAUTY OF JOSEPH FROM THE SPRING-GARDEN OF THE HIDDEN WORLD TO THE GARDEN OF MANIFESTATION, AND WATER-ING IT WITH THE WATER OF JACOB'S EYE AND NOURISHING IT WITH THE AIR OF ZULEIKHA'S HEART.

In changeful life where mere show rev'rence meets,
And each in turn of life the tymbal beats,
On each day¹⁰³ something clear for truth is shown,
And on the world a light from some name thrown.
Were the world ever in the self-same plight,
There would remain still hidden many a light.
Were in revolving the sun's light not lost,
Would lack their beauty of the stars the host.
Should winter never leave the flowering plain,
At spring's touch would the rose not laugh again.
When from this temple¹⁰⁴ Adam turned his face,
Seth in the Mehráb sat, and took his place.
When he departed, Idris¹⁰⁵ then began
In fraud's¹⁰⁶ house purity to teach to man.
When Enoch's¹⁰⁷ teaching was transferred to heav'n,
Faith's guardianship was then to Noah giv'n.
When Noah perished in destruction's flood,¹⁰⁸
This door was opened to the friend of God.¹⁰⁹
When from the world his table had been moved,¹¹⁰
For Isaac then his office was approved—
To non-existence' path¹¹¹ he turned aside,
And from salvation's mountain Jacob cried—
When from this business Jacob then withdrew,
His flag in Canaan from Syria flew.
When permanent in Canaan he remained,
Increase of wealth and children he obtained,
Whilst of his cattle, sheep and goats the tale
Exceeded ant and locust in the vale.
Thus prophet after prophet, on they came,
In prophecy distinct as shining flame.
Joseph himself eighth in descent appears,
For whom the world remains dissolved in tears.
Joseph beside, Jacob had sons eleven:
But now to Joseph was his whole heart given.¹¹²
When Joseph from his mother came to birth,
In face the moon an equal had on earth.
In the heart's garden was a plantlet reared,
A crescent in the heav'n of souls appeared.
Of God's friend in the grove a rose there grew,
A tight robe round its tender form it drew.¹¹³
A star from Isaac's constellation bright
Arose the eye of heav'n to deck with light.
In Jacob's mead its flag a tulip bore,
A wound and plaster both for Jacob's sore.
A deer to Canaan's breeze that perfume lent,
Tartary at Canaan's wastes in envy went.
Whilst in this life his mother yet remained
His sweet mouth from her milk its nurture gained.¹¹⁴
Him she embraced up to the age of two:
Into her food then Time its poison threw.
An orphan of its mother thus bereft,
The pearl from bounty's sea was tearful left.
His father, when he saw his pearl distressed,
The place of oyster gave his sister's breast.¹¹⁵
His soul's bird from his aunt its food obtained,
In her joy's rose-bed wings and feathers gained.
His form assumed the way of graceful walk;
His lip soon formed the way of pleasing talk.
To him his aunt's heart clung in such degree
That from that bond she could be never free.
As her own soul each night upon her breast,
By day on him as sun her eye would rest.
His father longed as well to see his face,
And in his love he ever took his place.
He in his sorrowing heart had none beside,
Nor seeing him at times was satisfied.
And he desired that moon his heart to light
With him should present be both day and night.
He told his sister: “Thou for my love's sake
“Around my head dost like a willow shake.
“I can no longer Joseph's absence bear;
“Do thou me from his separation spare.
“Send him of mystery to my secret place,
“Send him to where in prayer I turn my face.”
His sister heard the word that Jacob said,
Nor from it outwardly she turned her head,
Prepared herself a pretext to invent
That back from Jacob he might yet be sent.
Of Isaac with her there a girdle lay,
In God's own service rubbed and worn away.
Whoever on his hand that girdle bound
Free of the spheres' oppression would be found.
When towards his sire she Joseph's face inclined
Did she the belt in secret round him bind.
Secret the girdle she around him drew,
So that its presence there he never knew.
Thus girdle-bound he to his sire was sent,
Whilst she delayed no more to make lament:
“The girdle from our midst is lost,” she said,
And on them all around suspicion laid.
Then under each one's garment must she look,
And in his turn each one in order took.
Thus when it came to Joseph's turn at last,
She loosed the belt that round his waist was fast.
On those at that day who the Faith obeyed,
This precept by the holy law was laid:
“Whoever in the act of theft is caught,
“To the goods' owner captive must be brought.”
Once more again, then, through this false pretence,
Which she made up, she bore him homewards thence.
Fixed on his face, her eye was rendered bright;
But death in brief space closed that eye to light.
From seeing him his eye no longer closed,
Then Jacob's mind in happiness reposed.
In Joseph's countenance his Kiblah's¹¹⁶ place,
He from his other children turned his face.
In Joseph only was his soul at rest,
Alone in Joseph's light his eye was blessed.
In Joseph all then centred that he did,
Joseph's the only market where he bid.
Wherever may the moon its light display,
The sun itself can never find its way.
How shall I tell that loving beauty's mead,
Huris' and Paris' that surpassed indeed?
It was a moon whence heaven friendship gained,
Whence brilliance space and being both obtained.
No desert moon, it was a shining sun,
From which the heav'n itself its brilliance won.
That he was like the sun how shall I say?
A mere mirage the fountain of its ray,
A holy light from bonds of “what” and “when”
Raised from the veil of form its head again.
A form when that Incomparable gained,
By way of veil was Joseph's name obtained.
In Jacob's heart although his love concealed,
It was in heart and soul to him revealed.
Though, envious of Zuleikha, Huris pale,
She in the West sits hid in virtue's veil.
Yet of his sun-like face unseen the beam,
She of his image captive was in dream.
Love's pain controls e'en those who are afar,
'Twill not be far from those who nearer are.

CONCERNING THE LINEAGE OF ZULEIKHA, FROM THE RISING OF THE SUN, OF WHOSE PERFECTION THE WEST BECAME THE EAST, AND MOREOVER PASSED BEYOND IT BY THOUSANDS OF DEGREES.

Thus speaks that learned weigher of the word,
He in whose treasure wealth of words is stored:
There was a Western king, renowned of fame,
Who beat the drum of rule; Taimus his name.
Of kingship all the wealth had he obtained;
Of him no heart's wish unfulfilled remained.
Prosperity the crown had from his head;
Firm basis for the throne his foot had laid.
Orion in his host his loins had bound,
And round his sword-knot victory was wound.
He had one child, Zuleikha, fair of face,
Against the world with him who held her place:
No girl—a star she of the royal sign,
A gem did she in royal casket shine.
Not into words can her charms' praise be brought,
I make a simple trial of the thought.
If to her feet I like her hair descend,
To my mind brilliance would her image lend—
I from her pleasant lip assistance seek,
The merits that I know that I may speak.
Her palm-like stature was of grace create,
In sweetness' garden with its head elate,
That from a lordly river water drank,
And bore the palm from cypress on the bank.
The wise became entangled in the snare
Of her not far from musk-beperfumed hair.
In middle placed of head so tender, soft,
Of her fair locks the comb made partings oft.
Cleft the heart's bag of musk that head in two,
And thus the musk-bag's office harder grew.
Her jessamine-scented ringlets, downwards spread,
Threw on the rose's branch at foot a shade.
Of her two ringlets Indian ropes were made,
On her tall box¹¹⁷ that like rope-dancers played.
The heavens to describe her beauteous grace,
A silver tablet on her forehead place,
And of that silver tablet by the side
Musk-scented, two inverted Nûns¹¹⁸ provide:
Beneath those Nûns of Swáds¹¹⁹ a beauteous pair,
Which the Creator's pen had written there.
Down to Mîm's¹²⁰ ring from what the Nûns enclose
Straight as an Aleph drawn the silver nose:
Aleph beyond, by the mouth's Naught's¹²¹ increased
The evil of the world ten times at least.
Her Sîn¹²² is clear her smiling lip beneath,
When her Mîm's knots she loosens with her teeth.
Her face a type of Iram's garden fair,
Flowers of many kinds are blooming there.
Its mark a mole on every side there shows,
Like a black child upon a bed of rose.
Not liable to tithes¹²³ her silver chin,
A well from which life's water springs within.
That chin beneath a wise man wandering round
Had from that well the water flowing found.
Ease for his heart he had not there obtained,
The well a whirlpool and a well contained.
Purer than ivory, her neck was fair;
The deer upon their necks brought tribute there.
Reproach¹²⁴ on jessamine her two shoulders threw;
Hid in its breast itself the rose from view.
Resembling domes of light her two breasts swell,
Or bubble risen up from Káfur's¹²⁵ well.
Two fresh pomegranates growing from one stem,
No daring hand of hope had handled them.
Like silver store her arms her form embrace;
Pure silver by its side is metal base.
On that pure pearl to ward off future ill
The pure on earth at heart poured blessings still.
To make their soul her rue the fair inclined;
With their life's vein her amulet to bind.
Plunder of throned kings diadem that wore,
Her two arms fill her sleeve with silver store.
Full rest to those who toil her hand conveys,
And on each wounded heart a plaster lays.
Of her own fingers she has made a pen
To write her words upon the hearts of men.
To hearts in ev'ry nail of her it seems
Above the full moon that a crescent beams.
With fingers five she struck the moon a blow
From her hand's force that it might trouble know.¹²⁶
Her waist a hair, a split hair 'twould appear;
Of that hair's fineness aye she had a fear:
She could not bind her loins e'en with a thread
Lest it might chance to break it in the dread.
Her belly like a board with ermine spread,
So soft the midwife had her navel shred.
Her hips a hill, but of pure silver found,
Down from her waist as if a fallen mound:
So soft, if with the hand 'twere gently pressed,
Like dough, 'twould not between the fingers rest.
From golden hand-ball¹²⁷ silent pass away,
Of silver hand-ball¹²⁷ hear what I shall say.
Below the navel to above the knee
Nothing, nor old nor new, be said by me.
To that chaste fortress and forbidden place
I give not fancy e'en the road to trace.
The fashion of her legs should I declare,
Pillars of silver they her charms to bear,
By God! a wondrous nosegay, full of light,
But of all blind ones hidden from the sight.
The mirror that revealed her purity
Fell from respect itself upon its knee.
The mirror thus together with her knelt
That from her face the grace of light it felt.
Whoever knelt down with her on the ground,
The face of fortune there reflected found.
In grace her foot would with her leg, too, vie,
For this in pleasure has no constancy.¹²⁸
For thus it was, when smart and quick she moved,
Her foot from heel to toe so tender proved,
That if upon a lover's eye 'twere placed,
The tears as bubbles on its sole were traced.
Of gold and gems I know not how to speak:
Whate'er I say my words would still be weak.
Who would that Pari as a jewel praise?
Her beauty would gems' lustre even raise.
Upon her head a jewelled crown she wore:
Each gem the tribute of a province bore.
From pearl and ruby pendant in her ear
From heart and soul sense, joy disappear.
If from her neck a jewel thou shouldst pull,
Both breast and skirt of jewels would be full.
The jewelled band that fastens back her hair
Is worth a thousand knots of jewels fair.
With her own hand should she her wrist not hold,
With fraud to clasp it who would be so bold?
Henceforth can I of gold no tale repeat;
An anklet made of it lay on her feet.
At times upon a couch herself she laid,
Arrayed in Grecian or Chinese brocade;
Graceful at times within the hall she paced
With robes of Syria or Egypt graced.
And every day, when fresh appeared the sun,
Naught but a new robe did she e'er put on.
Twice from one vest her head she did not raise:
Moon-like, each day she took a newer phase.
From kiss of great men she her foot withdrew;
Such fortune 'twas her skirt alone that knew.
And to her shift alone was given grace
To hold her body in its close embrace.
The cypress-formed ones all her nod obeyed:
To her the Pari-faced ones worship paid,
While of her sisters of the Huris' race
Thousands served day and night before her face.
Her heart of sorrow never bore the yoke,
And in her soft foot a thorn never broke.
She had not loved nor had she been beloved,
Nor passion ever had her feeling moved.
At night Narcissus-like her eyes would close,
And in the morn bloom as the smiling rose.
With the young silver-bodied ones in sport,
With fair gazelles there in the palace court,
Her heart no games of fortune to annoy,
In naught but sport would she her time employ.
Thus light of heart and frolicsome was she,
And from all weight of grief and sorrow free.
What fate will on her from fell Time alight?
What from her womb bring forth the pregnant night?

THE SEEING BY ZULEIKHA FOR THE FIRST TIME OF THE SWORD OF THE SUN OF THE BEAUTY OF JOSEPH IN THE SHEATH OF A DREAM, AND HER BEING KILLED WITH LOVE OF HIM BY THAT SWORD.

One night as pleasant as life's morning rays,
And joy-enhancing as of youth the days,
From movement were both bird and fish at rest,
And fate within its skirt its foot had pressed.
In this house¹²⁹ seers many that contained,
None but the stars' eyes wakeful had remained.
Had stol'n the watchman's sense the thief of night,
The ringer the bell's tongue had fastened tight.
Their tails the dogs their necks had twisted round;
In that ring for their voice no way was found.
Its feather-sword had drawn the bird of night,
And cut its reed that should proclaim the light.
Where royal dome its battlement upreared,
And to the sentry poppy-head appeared,
No strength remained in him his watch to keep,
The poppy-head had lulled him off to sleep.
The drummer's drumming now was at a stand,
Sleep's onslaught to his stick had tied his hand.
Nor had Yá Hai! the Caller's message, sped
The beds to roll up of the careless dead.
With sugar-clear lips there Zuleikha lies,
With sugar-sweet sleep seated on her eyes.
With spikenard rubbed her locks her pillowed head;
On her couched form the rose's harvest spread.
Her locks the pillow in disorder threw;
Their silk threads on the roses pictures drew.
Closed fast in sleep her outward eyes may lie,
Yet from her heart looks out another eye.
Sudden a youth comes to her from the door;
A spirit 'tis, I say a youth no more.
That form auspicious from the realm of day
To Eden's mead the Huris steal away.
Their charms and beauty all away he took,
And snatched away from each her amorous look.
His stature like the young box raised on high,
The cypress tall his slave in dignity.
As chains his ringlets, falling him around,
Both wisdom's hand and foot of counsel bound.
Shone from his brow a light of brilliant ray,
The moon and sun before him prostrate lay.
His eyebrows' bend the Mehráb of the pure,
For drowsy men a perfumed shade secure.
With softness' Surma was his eye anoint,
Piercing all men's hearts with its eyelash point.
Smiles shedding sweets upon his lips abode,
And from his mouth speech mixed with sugar flowed.
His bright pearls, from those lips that jewels shed,
Were lightning flashing in the twilight red.
Light from the Pleiads by his smile was spread,
And salt his lip in agitation shed.
A dimpled apple from his chin was hung,
Or like a quince upon an apple strung.
With moles of musk was his cheeks' rosebud dressed,
As crows that in a garden build their nest.
A crescent new from Eden's heav'n that face
In Archer's sign made with its brow a place.
Silver his side and arms, a mighty pair,
Not so his loins, thin drawn out as a hair.
Upon his face Zuleikha cast one look,
And there took place at once what place there took.
Beauty she saw beyond all mortal range,
Unseen by Pari and to Huri strange.
To his fair form and pleasing traits as well
She with a hundred hearts a captive fell.
In dream she saw him at the age of seven;
Bound as with rope, her heart to him was given.
His stature's image in her heart embraced,
Affection's plant she in her spirit placed.
Fire burning from his face her breast illumed,
Of her heart's patience all the goods consumed.
To those sweet locks that scattered amber round
With every hair her own soul's rope she bound.
At his arched eyebrow she lamenting wept,
And at his drowsy eye in blood she slept.
Her heart her lip then into sugar made,
Her teeth her eye-lash in gem-necklace laid.
Her silver forearm washed from sense her hand,
And wound around her loins a service band.
She saw the sweet musk-mole upon his face,
And on the fire she took, like rue, her place.
She saw life-pain in apple of his chin:
Such apple lightly who can gather in?
In God's name, what a beauteous form appeared,
Sown in an outward form, in mystery reared!
Zuleikha with Zuleikha was oppressed,
The mystery gone, upon the form at rest.
If of the mystery she had been aware
Upon its road had she been moving there.
But captive to the form when she had grown,
At first that mystery she had not known.
We in the bonds of fancy all are laid,
And by appearances are captive made.
Once from the form turned tow'rds the inward part,
When tow'rds the form would ever turn one heart?
There's moisture in the jar, the thirsty knows
Full well, as on its neck his hand he throws:
Once overwhelmed within the limpid sea,
Weeping, the jar no more remembers he.

THE BLOWING OF THE MORNING BREEZE ON ZULEI-KHA, AND THE OPENING OF HER DROWSY EYE.

At morning when took flight of night the crow,
And early cock's cry sounded clear below,
The nightingales with song melodious grew
And from the rose its coverlet withdrew.
Its face the jessamine with dew had wet,—
Its amber locks had washed the violet.
Zuleikha still her face to turn would seem
Towards the Mehráb of her last night's dream,
No dream, a sweet insensibility,
From the night's blackness a perplexity.
Her maidens at her feet all clustered stand,
And her attendants throng to kiss her hand.
Now her moist tulip's veil she lays aside,
Her eye, half drunk with sleep, too, opens wide:
Her breast of sun and moon the rising-place,
She lifts her head and all round turns her face.
Of the night's face of rose no trace she saw,
And bud-like would within herself withdraw.
'Twas thus that cypress by her grief down borne,
Rose-like her vest had from her body torn,
But shame of others held the hand of pride,
And thus her foot to skirt of patience tied,
Hid in sad heart her secret close she folds,
As in hard rock the mine the ruby holds.
Like buds the blood she swallows in her heart,
Nor outwardly betrays the smallest part.
Her lip still with her maids in talk engaged,
Yet at the talk her heart in secret raged.
With friends her mouth in sweet smiles aye resolved,
Like cane in hundred knots her heart involved.
Though with her friends her tongue had aye its jest,
Love with a hundred tongues burnt in her breast.
Whilst upon others' forms was turned her eye,
Her heart was with her lover constantly.
How in her hand were her heart's reins retained,
When with that charmer always they remained?
Hearts to love's crocodile that are a prey
Gain not their object, seek it as they may.
She has not one wish from her love apart,
And not with any is at rest her heart.
Each word she says she to her lover speaks,
All aim she seeks she from her lover seeks.
Times thousands to her lip her soul arose:
“Oh that the night this day of pain would close!”
Night comes to soothe him who in love abides;
Night comes that lovers' secrets ever hides.
For this to day with them night preference bears,
The one a curtain hangs, the other tears.
At night towards grief's wall her face she leant,
Her back with weeping like a harp was bent.
Her tears upon the harp as strings she laid,
To her own heart attuned its chords she played—
With weeping raising her pathetic cry,
Treble and bass she uttered sob and sigh—
Her lover's form before her constantly,
She scattered jewels both from lip and eye.
“From what mine art thou, gem of purity,
“Whence jewels fall around, encircling me?
“My heart thou stol'st; thy name thou didst not tell,
“Nor hast thou left a trace where thou dost dwell.
“Thy name I know not of whom to enquire,
“Nor one from whom thy dwelling to require.
“If thou art king, tell me at least thy name,
“And if a moon, the place from whence it came—
“Oh! may none ever like me captive be!
“No lover mine, there is no heart in me.
“I saw thy form, that robbed me of my sleep:
“My heart's pure blood it caused my eye to weep.
“And now, deprived of rest and sleep, I lie,
“With thy hot flame my fever burning high.
“If on my fire thou water pour, what then?
“Like fire, wilt not thou blaze and burn again?
“I was a flower in youth's garden fair,
“And like life's water fresh was blooming there.
“No wind had ever blown upon my head,
“Nor had my foot from piercing thorn-point bled.
“Thou gav'st me to the wind with one caress,
“And on my couch a thousand thorns didst press.
“Tend'rer a hundred times than leaf of rose,
“On bed of thorns how could my form repose?”
Thus till the morning came her night was spent,
Against her lover's image this complaint.
To lull suspicion, when night turned to day,
The blood tears from her eye she washed away.
Her lip was moist with the blood-feast of night,
But what had been was hidden out of sight.¹³²
Upon her pillow rose-leaves fresh she spread,
With silver cypress freshened her soul's bed.
As in this manner she passed night and day,
Straight to a hair's breadth she held on her way.

THE KNOTTING WITH PERPLEXITY OF THE ROPE OF ANXIETY OF HER MAIDS FROM THEIR SEEING THE CHANGE IN THE CONDITION OF ZULEIKHA, AND THE UNLOOSING BY HER NURSE WITH THE POINT OF THE FINGER OF ENQUIRY OF THE KNOTS OF THAT ROPE.

Where'er an arrow shoots of love the bow,
The shield of counsel wards not off the blow.
Inside the house when that dart finds its way
A hundred signs its presence there betray,
And pleasant is this saying of the wise
That love and musk-scent one can not disguise.
If upon musk a hundred folds you lay,
Through many screens the scent will find its way¹³³.
Zuleikha ever kept her love concealed,
Nor grief's seed in her breast sown e'er revealed,
Yet ever from its place 'twould raise its head,
And from within its signs and traces¹³⁴ spread—
Her weeping eyes at times would water shed:
No, not with water, but pure blood they bled—
In every drop that from her eye-lash flowed,
There outwardly a hidden secret glowed.
At times from burning heart she heaved a sigh;
Rising, its smoke was wafted to the sky.
In ev'ry sigh that from her heart she drew,
Of a hot, burning heart the scent they knew.
Sleepless and foodless sometimes day and night,
To yellow tulip turned her red rose bright.
In any garden, (dost thou this not know?)
Without a spot can never tulip grow.
Her waiting maidens, when these signs they knew,
Would their perplexity for aye renew.
Yet what its reason was was never clear,
Nor did what caused her cruel lot appear.
“The like was never seen,” first some one cries;
“Perhaps an evil eye upon her lies.”
Another to this fancy gave belief:
“Some Div or Pari had brought her to grief.”
“No, no! some sorcerer,” would some one say,
“Has tied her skirt-fringe in some magic way.”
“These are all signs of love,” another says:
“'Tis love that on her all this burden lays.
“As she sees no one in her waking hour,
“In sleep this evil holds her in its power.”
Thus of the matter differing thought had each,
All with each other holding varied speech.
Still was the secret of her heart untold,
Nor to one thing could they together hold.
Her nurse a sorceress among the rest;
Of magic she the capital possessed.
The ways of passion she herself had seen,
Sometimes had loved, and sometimes loved had been—
Lover and mistress had to union brought,
And had to differing lovers concord taught.
One night she came, of service to repeat
Her tale, and kissed the ground before her feet.
“O rose-bud of the royal mead,” she cried:
“Glow at thy beauty all the fair with pride.
“Thy lip be full of smiles, thy heart elate,
“Propitious from thy glory be my fate!
“In beauty's garden thou that cypress art
“Whence pheasant turns the parrot of my heart.
“I am the river of that faithful sea,
“Fortune upon whose shore has nourished thee.
“'Twas I that first beheld thy face in life,
“And cut thy cord with my affection's knife—
“I with rose-water bathed thy form and hair,
“And for thy dye¹³⁵ musk-water did prepare.
“Of my heart's veil thy swaddling clothes I wove,
“A hundred tender threads of life I rove.
“My milk did I provide for thee as bread,
“That body nourished with thy spirit fed.
“When night arrived I slept but for thy sake,
“To deck thy face my morning task I'd make.
“As fringe in walking on my shoulders worn,
“And in my arms in sleeping wast thou borne.
“When thy rose-branch to graceful cypress grew,
“Not from thy skirt yet I my hand withdrew.
“Still ever in thy service did I wait,
“Early in thy affairs employed and late.
“Thou couldst in no place that fair cypress find,
“But I as shadow followed close behind.
“When thou didst sit waiting I stood by thee;
“In sleep upon thy feet my head would be—
“In thy affairs employed still as before,
“In all sincerity I still adore.
“The secret of thy heart why dost thou hide,
“And as a stranger hold me from thy side?
“Who into this has thrown thee? Speak at last.
“Who stole thy sense? This load on thee who cast?
“Why so afflicted and thyself beside?
“Why with such grief and pain art thou allied?
“Why does thy red rose yellow turn as gold,
“And thy warm breath become in this way cold?
“Thou art the sun; as moon why sink as yet,
“And in the morning hour desire to set?
“Surely I know, some moon stands in thy way;
“Then who that moon is, to me plainly say.
“If in the heav'n above an angel he,
“And his pure essence formed of light should be,
“Urgent with supplication will I pray,
“Till he from heav'n to earth shall find his way;
“A Pari, if in hill and wood he dwell,
“To read spells for thee's my affair as well—
“By incantations will I him compel
“Shut in a bottle¹³⁶ here with thee to dwell,
“And if he should be born of human kind,
“Quickly with him will I rejoice thy mind.
“With this alliance who would not desire?
“Not slaves alone but those whose place is high'r.”
Zuleikha knew her sympathetic heart,
Her incantations' power and magic art;
And saw no way but to the truth to keep,
And took her moon among the stars to weep.
“Invisible my treasure is,” said she;
“My treasure's door-key, too, is lost to me,
“How can I show of that bird any trace
“That with the Anká has its dwelling-place?¹³⁷
“This bird, indeed, mankind the Anká call,
“But this my own bird has no name at all.
“To him who's disappointed what delight
“That he his wish's name should know aright!
“In absence disappointment though he meet,
“The name the bitter of his tongue makes sweet.”
Her secret to the nurse then open laid,
Her trust's foundation she far higher made.
Out of her dreaming she awoke her then;
In place of ignorance she made things plain.
When of her book the nurse had read one word,
No remedy to her perplexed occurred.
Of every fancy this the picture true:
'Tis vain to search for what one never knew.
If from the first thou know'st not thy desire,
Of what avail yet farther to enquire?
When from its bonds her heart she could not save,
She loosed her tongue and admonition gave.
At first she said: “This is of Dívs the way;
“Dívs' business is to cheat and to betray.
“To men they put on an appearance fair,
“To open them the door of black despair.”
Zuleikha said: “How could a Dív presume
“The form of a beloved one to assume?
“She who malignant tumult would prepare,
“May God forbid that she an Angel bear.”
“It is an evil dream,” the other said:
“For such an ill astray why art thou led?”
The other said: “Then if this dream be ill,
“The pure how should it be misleading still?
“For men of learning clear this maxim state:
“Crooked with crooked goes and straight with straight.”
The nurse replied: “Thou art a clever child;
“Then drive out from thy thoughts this fancy wild.”
Zuleikha answered: “Rested it with me,
“How should this load obtain the mastery?
“The thing can no more by my hand be done;
“The reins of power from that hand are gone.
“Than on the stony rock more deeply yet
“Engraved upon my heart an image set,
“The waves may rage, or howl the wind and storm,
“Yet not efface that deeply graven form.”
The nurse, who saw what force her love had gained,
From words of admonition now refrained,
But told her father secretly her state.
Her father, greatly troubled at the tale,
Since all device appeared of no avail,
Left the whole matter in the hand of Fate.

THE SEEING BY ZULEIKHA OF JOSEPH FOR A SECOND TIME IN A DREAM, AND THE SHAKING OF THE CHAIN OF HIS LOVE, AND CASTING HIM INTO THE WHIRL-POOL OF DARKNESS.

Happy that heart where passion comes to birth,
That in its passion scorns the things of earth;—
Their coruscating flash of lightning bright
Burns sense and patience harvest with its light.
Salvation's pain¹³⁸ no more a thing of awe,
Reproach's hill less weighty than a straw,
A feather weight his soul reproach will know,
That with the blame his love will stronger grow.
For a whole year Zuleikha's moon then waned;
Her full moon to its crescent form attained.
With back bent like the crescent she one night
Sat with her bleeding eye in semi-light,
And spoke: “O heav'n, with me what hast thou done,
“That should already 'gin to pale my sun?
“Now like a bow becomes my bleeding frame;
“I am a target for the darts of blame.
“My reins on restive hands didst thou bestow,
“The restiveness of which alone I know.
“He cast into my heart of love a ray,
“And in dreams treats me in a niggard way.
“In waking hours he does not sit with me,—
“His form in dreams not such that I may see.
“A sign of making fortune in my dream,
“A moon I see of world-enlivening beam.
“Sleep gives no comfort to my weary eyes;
“Of fortune but the form my dream supplies.
“If fortune in my dream would but awake,
“My lover in my dream would substance take.”
Thus said she till a watch of night had passed;—
Upon her lip her soul rose up at last.
Sudden, a dream her fancy bore away:
It was no dream; insensible she lay.
Her form upon her couch was not at rest,
Hope came in from the door her soul that blessed;
That form that had appeared to her at first
Brighter than moonlight on her vision burst.
No sooner did her sight the vision meet,
Than leaping she fell down before its feet,—
Kissed then the ground and cried: “O cypress-rose,
“That from my heart rob'st patience and repose,
“By Him who has created thee from light,
“From all contamination pure and bright,
“Who thus has given kingship o'er the fair,
“And than life's water greater grace to bear,
“In stature as a rosebush in life's mead,—
“Of the soul's food thy lip a source indeed,—
“Thy heart-enlivening face my light illumes,
“And like a moth my bird of life consumes.
“Hid in thy scented locks a lasso lies
“Enfolding every hair of mine that ties.
“Thy waist has made thy body as a hair:
“Thy mouth's Mim drives my sad heart to despair.
“Pity my wretched soul without a hope,
“And thy sweet mouth to give me answer ope.
“Say with that grace that ravishes my heart,
“Who thou mayst be and of what race thou art.
“Where is thy mine if thou a gem shouldst be?
“A king, where is thy hall of majesty?”
Then answered he: “I am of mortal birth,
“Of water made and of the dust of earth.
“Thou say'st thou hast of love a claim on me,
“If these thy words be in sincerity,
“My right of love and faithfulness preserve,
“Unmarried still, do thou my will observe.
“Thy sugar by no tooth shall bitten be,—
“No diamond thy jewel pierce for thee.
“If on thy breast my sign inscribed shall be,
“From that brand think not that I can be free.
“My heart as well is captive in thy snare,
“And of love's branding, too, the scar I bear.”
Then when Zuleikha saw his loving mood,
And from his lip the mystery understood,
Her maddened seized the Pari¹³⁹ once again,—
The fire fell on the moth with greater pain.
From her dream's thought infatuate, she leapt,
With heart and mind in burning madness kept.
Her grief for him at heart still greater grew,
Up to the spheres her grief's smoke¹⁴⁰ quicker flew.
A hundred-fold her madness had increased
Beyond all bounds; her wailing never ceased.
Down from the hand of wisdom fell her rein,
She freed herself of counsel from the chain.
Like rose-bud, her soul's robe in tatters shred—
Like tulip, in the dust her lip's blood shed;
Sometimes from love for him her face she'd tear,
Or root out, thinking of his locks, her hair.
On every side attendants on the ground
Sat like a halo drawn the moon around,
And if a gap were left in any part,
Straight as an arrow would she through it dart.
And had the circle held her skirt not fast,
Into the fields the cypress would have passed;
Round her, as round a bird, should it not close,
Gone to the market like an unveiled rose.
Informed of these events, her sire each sort
Of med'cine sought for from the wise at Court:
Of all devices every road run through,
Better than chains no remedy they knew.
A twisting serpent made of gold they brought,
Which was with precious pearls and rubies wrought.
The snake, around her silver leg entwined,
Made rings, near treasure as you serpents find.
Treasure of grace Zuleikha was indeed,
And every treasure of a snake has need.
Beneath her skirt there as the serpent slept,
Thus she exclaimed, as pearly tears she wept:
“Fast in the bonds of love my heart's foot lies,
“Yet dearer than the world those bonds I prize.
“Why should quick fate, dear life that wears away,
“Loading my feet, me in such fetters lay?
“To me no power in my foot is left,
“To go and come I am of sense bereft.
“Why with such heavy bonds my foot confine?
“Why wound with cruel sword this heart of mine?
“Fast in the mire my cypress foot they bind,
“And movement for my foot is hard to find.
“And what the benefit the gardener gains,
“When round that foot he draws the water chains?
“That charmer's foot should surely chains control,
“Who in a moment all my senses stole,
“And lingered not so long there in my eye
“As with his tulip hue to satisfy.
“As flashing lightning did he then depart,
“And raised the smoke from out my burning heart.
“If lofty fortune me its aid would lend,
“Round his own foot this chain of gold I'd bend.
“Then as I wished would I upon him gaze,
“And he would render bright my darkened days.
“What of that tender beauty shall I say,
“Upon whose foot if ever dust there lay
“Grief on my soul would like a mountain be,
“And would roll up my couch of joy for me?
“When did I wish a load were on his mind,
“His silver leg from bonds should trouble find?
“A hundred heart-stabs sweeter far to me
“Than that his skirt one thorn should pierce would be.”
Now of those pleasing tales that lovers tell,
One suddenly upon her target fell.
Dust from her wounds upon her bosom fell,
Like wounded game into the dust she fell,
For a short time insensible she lay,
But soon to sense her spirit found its way.
With spells imagined in her maddened heart,
Again her charms began to bear their part.
Sometimes she laughs, and sometimes takes to tears,
Sometimes alive and sometimes dead appears.
Each moment varying from grave to gay,
In varying mood a whole year passed away.

THE SEEING OF JOSEPH (ON HIM BE PEACE!) BY ZULEIKHA IN A DREAM FOR THE THIRD TIME, AND HER ASKING HIS NAME AND PLACE, AND THE RETURN OF ZULEIKHA TO WISDOM AND SENSE.

Full of deceit and charms, thou, Love, appear,
At times to peace, at times to war who'rt near—
At times the wise distracted rendering,
At times thou dost the mad to wisdom bring.
Of beauties when thou bindest up the hair,
The wise fall into fetters of despair.
And if those ringlets thou shouldst e'er untie,
The lamp of wisdom gains in brilliancy.
One night Zuleikha as she senseless tossed,
A twin to sorrow and to patience lost,
Drinking the dregs out of the cup of grief,
From love's fierce agony found no relief.
Now from her perfumed hair the veil she drew,
Dust on her head with burning heart she threw.
Her tender cypress back she bowed in prayer;
Earth made of Iram's grove the envy there—
Tears red as Arghaván¹⁴² poured forth her eyes,
With lily tongue she uttered happy cries.
Grief and affliction filled her sorrowing breast
As to her lover she this tale addressed:
“O thou who robbest me of sense and rest,
“And hast with misery my days distressed;
“No comfort giving, though thou broughtest grief;
“Stealing my heart, thou bringest no relief;
“Thy name I know not, that I thee might name:
“Thy place I find not, that I thee might claim.
“In my own state I smiled so cheerily,
“But now like cane I am in bonds to thee.
“As bud from grief for thee blood was my food:
“Now like a rose I fall out from my hood—
“I say not in thy eyes that I am dear;
“No: least am I of all thy handmaids here.
“If thou wouldst cherish her how would it be,
“And wouldest her from bonds of sorrow free?
“May none be e'er defiled with blood like me,
“Or among people thus dishonoured be!
“My mother grieved that I was of her race,
“And I, his child, my father bring disgrace.
“My waiting women all are from me gone,
“A prey to grief have left me all alone.
“Thou to my wretched spirit hast a torch applied;
“Like me in friendlessness burns none beside.”
Till she was held in slumber's soft caress
Thus her soul's object did she then address.
Her eye inebriate with sleep's cup became,
And in a dream to her sleep's robber came,
In form more fair than I could e'er portray,
Nor do I know henceforth what more to say.
Her hand upon his skirt she weeping kept,
With eyelash at his feet heart's blood she wept.
“Thou with the anguish of whose passion fly
“Ease from my heart and slumber from my eye,
“By that pure Being Who thee pure has made,
“His choice from both worlds' fair ones on thee laid,
“Shorten the period of my grief for me:
“Tell me thy name and where thy town may be.”
“If that suffices for thee,” he replied:
“In Egypt I am Vazír and abide.
“Among those trusted by the king I stand:
“He gives me rank and honour in the land.”
Zuleikha from her love this sign obtained:
As dead a hundred years fresh life she gained.
She drank as 'twere a new draft from life's bowl:
Her body strength, and patience gained her soul.
Fortune awake, when from that dream again
She waking rose, the mad one rose up sane.
To her hot heart of that moon came the word,
And her to sense and intellect restored.
She called her handmaids in from every side:
“Ye who have felt my sorrow,” then she cried:
“News of good fortune to my sire convey;
“Drive sorrow's burning from his heart away.
“Knowledge and wisdom have returned at last;
“My stream comes flowing that away had passed.
“The gold chain from my silver by be laid;
“No more of madness shall I be afraid.
“No more in miser's bonds my silver leave;
“With thy own hand my leg from chains relieve.”
When to her father the good news was brought,
He went to meet her, much as one distraught.
Like lover first himself away he threw,
Then towards that cypress on his way he drew;
Loos'ning that double snake that round her wound,
Her silver breast from bonds of gold unbound.
Her handmaids 'neath her feet their foreheads laid,
A throne of gold beneath her feet they made.
Tender upon a couch they laid her down;
Made her head lofty with a golden crown.
The fairy-faced ones all together drew;
As moths around that candle all they flew.
When of her comrades in the midst she sat,
Her lip like parrot's sugar broke and ate.
The cover of her tale box she unloosed,
As tales of every city she produced.
Of Rome and Syria she wove the thread,
With sugar mixed what she of Egypt said.
Tales of Egyptians now come to an end,
She named him who in Egypt was her friend.¹⁴⁴
When of this name came from her tongue the sound,
She fell, as would a shadow, on the ground.
A flood of blood fell from her clouded eye,
And up to heaven rose her wailing cry.
By day and night she had this work on hand,
Spoke ever of her friend and of his land.
Such converse in her ear aye sweet remained;
On every other topic silence reigned.

THE ARRIVAL OF AMBASSADORS TO DEMAND THE HAND OF ZULEIKHA, AND THEIR RETURN DIS-APPOINTED.

Though through her love Zuleikha's state confused,
Her beauty's fame was through the world diffused.
Where'er that beauty's tale men might relate,
Was he who heard at once inebriate.
Eager desire was she of monarchs crowned;
At royal feasts her fairness was renowned—
In hope in marriage he might gain her hand
Each moment came from some king a demand.
When, then, of madness she escaped the chain,
And sat recovered on love's throne again,
Envoys from kings of every land around,¹⁴⁵
From Syria's kingdoms and Rome's countries bound,
More than ten persons there the journey made,
And at her shrine of majesty delayed—
With royal letter one and goods a store;
The seal of Solomon another bore.
From some world-conqueror a gift each brought,
A sign in wedlock that her hand he sought.
Wherever turned that envy of the sun,
A throne, and on her head a crown was won.
Whatever land with grace she might adorn,
As her road dust would royal crowns be borne.
If moonlike she in Syria¹⁴⁶ deigned to rest,
From morn till even¹⁴⁶ she would aye be blessed.
And if towards Rome she should take her way,
From Rome to Zanzibar all would obey.
Each courier a message thus conveyed,
A name auspicious from his lip was said.
News of their purport reached Zuleikha there:
Her heart from fear was driven to despair.¹⁴⁷
“With these from Egypt is there no one now?
“Beneath Egyptians' love my back I bow.
“Towards Egyptians is my heart constrained:
“If Egypt envoy send not, what is gained?
“The breeze that from the land of Egypt blows,
“And in my eyes the dust of Egypt throws,
“A hundred times more dear that wind to me,
“Than the musk-laden breeze of Tartary.”
Her father summoned her. Before his face,
Absorbed in thought she sat down in her place.
“Light of my eye!” he said; “heart's joy to me,
“That frees from grief thou deed of liberty!
In beauty's chief seat of those crowns who own,
“Of kings who wear a crown upon the throne,
“At heart the scar of thy desire they know,
“The seed of longing in their bosoms sow.
“From every realm in hope of thy consent
“Does an ambassador himself present.
“I tell of every messenger the tale
“To see among them who will now prevail—
“And of that land tow'rds which thy heart may lean,
“That of it quickly I may make thee queen.”
The father spoke and she more silent grew,
And turned her listening ear to sound she knew.
Happy is one when one can turn the ear
The words of well-known friends alone to hear.
One after other did he of kings tell,
Of Egypt only there no mention fell.
Zuleikha saw from the Egyptian's land
No messenger had come to claim her hand.
Before her father hopeless in despair,
She rose, like willow trembling in the air.
With her eyes' spear she pierced the pearls she shed,
Out of her eye she rained her tears and said:
“Oh that a mother I had ne'er possessed,
“Or that she ne'er fed me from her breast!
“What star my fate rules is to me unknown,
“Or by that fate I whither have been thrown.
“If a cloud, rising from the ocean's bed,
“On every thirsty lip should water shed,
“Tow'rds me with thirsting lip if it should turn,
“In place of water 'twould rain fire to burn.
“Tow'rds me I know not, heav'n, what is thy mood,
“In blood that cloth-like¹⁴⁸ my skirt is imbrued.
“If to my friend thou wilt not let me fly,
“So far from him, oh; do not let me lie.
“If thou desire my death, behold I die;
“By thy injustice lifeless here I lie.
“Or into sorrow if thou wouldst me throw,
“Thou castest on me many a hill of woe.
“Beneath a hill what is a blade of grass?
“Through waves of grief how can a straw e'er pass?
“A hundred wounds upon my heart through thee,
“Still is it in thy hand to pity me.
“What is't to thee if I am glad or greet?
“What is't to thee if I am sour or sweet?
“Destroy the wind my crop, say ‘let it be’!
“Two hundred harvests are one grain to thee.
“Who am I? What from me can ever rise?
“Exist or not, what is it in thy eyes?
“Destroying many a rose that freshly bloomed,
“Thou hast to fire with death's brand on them doomed.
“Where would thy feelings ever be distressed
“That I should ever differ from the rest?”
With grievous groaning both by night and day,
And with heart filled with blood, like bud, she lay.
Tears from her moistened eye would ever flow,
Dust on her head her angry hand would throw.
Her father saw her restless discontent,
And heard for Egypt's Vazír her lament,
The messengers in royal robes arrayed
Dismissed, excuses with his lips he made.
He said: “For this my precious child as bride,
“To Egypt's Vazír long my tongue is tied.
“Ye who are learned all will understand
“His right is first who did the foremost stand.
“Better than this can time's tongue never say:
“The hand that's foremost carries aye the day.”
Thus lost the hope of gaining their desire,
With wind in hand¹⁴⁹ the messengers retire.

THE SENDING BY ZULEIKHA'S FATHER OF A MES-SENGER TO THE VAZIR OF EGYPT, AND THE BRINGING FORWARD OF ZULEIKHA TO HIM AND HIS ACCEPTANCE OF HER.

A scar upon her heart Zuleikha bore:
Despair increased it ever more and more.
Each day will ever clothe its face in white,
Save day of hopelessness, as dark as night.
For Egypt grieved her father saw her mind,
And but one remedy for this could find,
That down to Egypt some wise man should go,
From the Vazír its remedy to know;
That he to him a message might convey,
And for Zuleikha's union pave the way.
He chose a man for wisdom from the Court¹⁵⁰,
Gave to his wisdom praise of every sort.
A hundred gifts he gave to him of every kind,
To the Vazír his road with counsel how to find.
“O thou whom time” (he gave for message this)
“Revolving must thy threshold's dust aye kiss,
“May the spheres' favour to thee never cease!
“Thy greatness aye from day to day increase!
“There's in my sign of chastity a sun,
“Whence in her heart the moon a ray has won.
“Higher than is the moon's her base is laid,
“Yet has the sun's eye never seen her shade.
“Purer than pearl that e'er in oyster lay,
“Than star in honour shedding brighter ray.
“Only when veiled will she the moon behold,
“For fear the stars to look on her be bold—
“Only the mirror sees her features fair,
“The comb alone lets loose her flowing hair.
“That hair alone is with the fortune blessed
“At times its head upon her feet to rest.
“When the house-courts she walks in loveliness
“Naught but her skirt may those sweet feet caress.
“Nor does her chin the bride-adorner dress,
“Nor does her lip the cane with finger press:
“Her beauty from the rose her skirt withdrew,
“Whose robe disgracefully was torn in two.
“Nor at her cheek may the narcissus pry:
“It loves the cup and has a wicked eye.
“She walks not in the light of moon or sun,
“Lest in pursuit of her her shadow run.
“She passes not by fountain or by stream,
“Lest her reflection's eye should on her beam.
“Her station ever though within the veil,
“Outside a hundred strifes for her prevail.
“All kings desirous to obtain her hand
“But ruin at her will demanding stand.
“The high from Rome and up to Syria's bound
“Drinking their hearts' blood through her love are found.
“Yet towards no one does she turn her mind,
“In Egypt only can she comfort find.
“At Rome with mind content she would not smile:
“To her are Syria's dust and water vile.
“Towards Egypt only does she long to go;
“Her tears, a second Nile, for Egypt flow.
“Why she for Egypt longs I cannot say,
“Nor who it is that draws her heart that way.
“Her native land as if they there declared,
“Or for her food there royal briefs prepared.¹⁵¹
“If thy exalted mind to this consent,
“She shall to that attractive land be sent,
“By beauty's right should she the throne not share,
“To sweep the house, then, be her service there.”
When Egypt's Vazír heard the grateful word;
With his pride's head-dress were the heavens stirred.
Deeply he bowed and cried: “Then who am I,
“That in my heart such thoughts are sown and lie?
“Yet since the king has raised me from the ground,
“My head may rightly pass the heavens' bound.
“I am that earth which the fair cloud of spring
“Is with its goodness ever watering.
“A hundred tongues should now my body raise
“Like grass, could I enough such goodness praise?
“Yet through the favour that the king now lends,
“My duty is, if fortune me befriends,
“To make my head his foot, my eyes his shoes,
“With head and eye my road to him to choose.
“And yet with Egypt's king, that wisdom's mine,
“So tight the bonds of service me entwine,
“If for one hour only should I absent be,
“With sword of power he would punish me.
“Do ye this service not from me demand;¹⁵²
“Absolved from pride's suspicion let me stand.
“By way of gratitude, should he allow,
“Two hundred golden litters send I now;—
“A thousand waiting-maids, a thousand slaves,
“Pine-statured, moving as the Tubá waves.
“The slaves of disposition sweet and kind,
“In Paradise no purer could one find;
“From smiling mouths they naught but sweetness breathe,
“While pearls and rubies round their hair enwreathe.
“With girded loins and jaunty caps aside,
“They in their golden saddles smartly ride.
“The waiting-maids of light and bright array,
“Huris of earthly water free and clay.
“Their perfumed locks their rosy cheeks adorn,
“With arching eyebrows o'er a moon upborne.
“Of many gems their ornaments they bind,
“In golden litters gracefully reclined.
“With these, too, such as are possessed of wit,
“And skilled in horsemanship, as may befit,
“I send, that her with honour they convey,
“To my retirement gently lead the way.”
When the wise messenger had heard his mind,
Prostrate he kissed his feet, on earth reclined,
And said: “Though Egypt glory great may see,
“Beneficence arises fresh in thee.
“Our sovereign requires not pomp or state;
“Of what thou say'st he has enough to sate.
“The slaves and all the handmaids of his Court
“Would, shouldst thou reckon them, be counted short.
“Those robed with honour¹⁵³ at his banquets found
“More than the leaves upon the trees abound.
“The glittering gems presented by his hand
“Are more in number than the desert sand.
“Acceptable is his desire to thee,
“Happy the man with whom thou dost agree.
“Since now thy table it would seem to suit,
“Towards thee will he quickly send that fruit.”

THE BLOWING OF THE BREEZE OF ACCEPTANCE FROM THE DIRECTION OF EGYPT, AND THE PASSING OF ZULEIKHA'S LITTER, LIKE THE LITTER OF THE ROSE, TO EGYPT.

When the wise man returned from Egypt's land
From off Zuleikha's soul to loose the band,
Of the Vazír good news he brought indeed;
With him he filled her, from herself he freed.
Her fortune's rose-bud then began to bloom,
Its flight her destiny's Humá to resume.
In dreams on her affairs the bonds that fell,
Imagination came to loose as well.
Indeed, wherever sorrow is or mirth,
They come from dreams or fancy on the earth.
From dreams and fancy happy he who 's passed,
Out of such whirlpool lightly saved at last.
Her father saw Zuleikha glad again,
And to prepare her trousseau turned his rein.
And for the bridal then did he prepare,
From Roum and Russia, thousands of the fair,
Pistachio-mouthed, and of pomegranate breast,
Cheek and breast garden on rose-garden pressed.
On each ear-lobe a knot of jewels tied,
Encircling musk from ear to ear applied.
As rose-leaf in the morning fresh their face,
Free of dye's shame, and of red paint's disgrace.
Locks as of amber on a tulip hung,
And on each ear a pearl of price was strung.
Thousands of male slaves to excite men's strife,
With charms blood-shedding, robbing men of life.
Jaunty the red caps on their heads aside,
And of their scented hair the knots untied,
Whilst of the locks around their caps each hair
As twisted hyacinths 'neath tulips fair.
With coloured coats on body fitting right,
As tender bud or cane of sugar tight.
Their hair-like waists with jewels hung around,
A hundred hearts to each hair hanging bound.
A thousand well-formed horses, full of grace,
Obedient to the saddle; fierce in pace,
Than chougán-driven ball more swift to pass,
More mild than dew that lies upon the grass.
Upon them if the whip but cast a shade,
Out of time's plain to leap all haste they made.
Like the wild ass that scours the desert plain,
Or water-bird afloat upon the main:
That with the hoof the stony rock would cleave,
Or with the tail in canes a knot would weave;
On hill that passed as light as o'er the plain,
Yet never lost the guidance of the rein.
A thousand camels might that never lack,
Mountain of mountains, hills upon their back;
Not without pillars, standing as a hill,
With wind-swift coursers' speed advancing still.
Like hermits with but little food content,
With lordly patience under burdens bent.
A hundred deserts passed in God's repose,
Whilst eating thorns like spikenard or like rose.
For travel's love without food, without sleep,
In desert bounds to music step that keep.
Upon a hundred camels precious things,
Whilst every load a country's income brings.
Two hundred coverlets of rich brocade,
In Roum and Syria and Egypt made.
Caskets of jewels that reflect the light,
Badakhshan rubies, pearls and sapphires bright.
Two hundred trays of musk from far Tatár,¹⁵⁴
With amber pure, and aloes of Kamár.¹⁵⁵
With camel-drivers for each stage and place,
Like China's desert was of earth the face.
And for Zuleikha as a bride apart
They made a litter pleasing to the heart.
With aloe carved and sandalwood was made,
The house, and on its planks was gold inlaid.
Like Jamshid's tent its roof with gems was bound,
Like the sun's globe aye shedding gold around.
Without, within, as full as it could hold,
Were drops of pearl and many a nail of gold.
Its hangings all of woven gold brocade,
Of hues enchanting, beauteous form were made.
In that bride's chamber they Zuleikha place
And towards Egypt gently turn her face.
On back of camels swift of foot made fast,
In the spring breeze like rose the litter passed.
Jess'mine in face and scent, of jessamine form,
Thousands of cypress, box, and pine trees swarm;
They started off, as if the early spring
From place to place the plain were traversing,
And to whatever stage that idol came,
There Iram's garden hid its face from shame.
The boys excited, leaping here and there,
And ogling from their litters maidens fair.
Of her own locks each girl a noose had thrown,
And made a boy a captive of her own.
Each boy had of his eye-lash made a dart,
And made an opening in his prisoner's heart.
To charm on one side and caress desire,
On the other longing and a lover's fire.
Thousands of lovers and beloved were by,
Goods everywhere and hundreds there to buy.
After this manner staging day by day,
They towards Egypt took their lengthy way.
Zuleikha happy, pleased with fate indeed,
The road towards Egypt would be passed with speed;
The night of sorrow would be turned to day,
The pain of separation pass away;
Not knowing this, that still the night was black,
From that till morn of many years the track.
Through darksome night and through the daylight clear,
On, on they drove till Egypt's self was near.
A courier quickly forwards thence they sent,
And he before them on his camel went,
That he tow'rds Egypt on his road might go
And Egypt's Vazír might the tidings know,
“Thy fortune, lo! is here before thine eyes;
“If thou wouldst go to welcome it, arise!”

THE HEARING BY THE VAZIR OF EGYPT OF ZULEI-KHA'S APPROACH, AND HIS ARISING WITH THE INTENT TO GO TO MEET HER, AND ADORNING HIMSELF WITH ORNAMENTS WITH HIS EGYPTIAN ATTENDANTS.

To Egypt's Vazír when the tale was brought,
Tow'rds his desire the world had turned, he thought.
Then he proclaimed that forth from Egypt's land
To march the army whole prepared should stand;
That what by way of ornament each thing
Each of them had he should produce and bring??
The army then came forth from foot to head
In gold and ornaments and gems¹⁵⁷ arrayed.
Thousands of slaves and maids assembled soon,
With face of rose and cheek that vied the moon.
Boy slaves with collar golden and with crown,
Like golden palm-tree from the saddle grown.
With their seven¹⁵⁶ ornaments the girls arrayed,
In litters that were curtained with brocade.
Singers, sweet-lipped, conceits repeating choice,
Congratulating all with pleasing voice.
Musicians, tuned of pleasure's harp the string,
Commenced the song of merriment to sing.
When to attune it the lute's ear is wrung,
Its sweet chords echo to the cheerful song.
Good news of meeting brings the flute's sweet sound,
And for the soul the hope of union 's found.
Freed by rebeck the soul from string of woe,
Its dulcet tones evokes the sounding bow.
The drum awakens too the friendly sound,
That in the travellers' hand the skin is found.¹⁵⁸
As in this manner on their way they went,
Due meed was to the road of pleasure lent.
When like the moon two stages they went on,
They came of all those fair ones to the sun.
They found a country not removed from light,
A thousand cupolas had made it bright,
As if the cloud of heaven, without a bound,
Had rained full many stars like hail around.
Here, in the midst of royal tents displayed,
Of maidens fair an army was arrayed.
When Egypt's Vazír's sight that tent fell on,
He smiled as morning at the rising sun,
And lighting down from off his royal steed
Towards that tent he went with joyous speed.
The servants of the Haram might and main
To kiss his foot's dust ran, to honour gain.
Welcome he spoke to each assembled there,
And smiled upon them as a flower fair.
Of that fair moon he due enquiry made,
By air and toil how on the road delayed.
Then gave the offerings that he had brought,
Things to the eye with special pleasure fraught,
Of smiling girls all sweetness to behold,
Of loin-begirded youths with caps of gold,
Of horses on whose saddles gold was laid,
From tail to ears in jewels all arrayed,
Of garments, some of silk and some of hair,
And of rare jewels, all beyond compare:
Of sweets of Egypt what was rare and new
And of sweet draughts to drink of every hue;
With such the desert was adorned and laid,
Pleasant words spoken and excuses made.
Now for their march was fixed the coming day,
As to his own camp then he made his way.

THE SEEING OF THE VAZIR OF EGYPT BY ZULEIKHA THROUGH A HOLE IN THE TENT, AND HER RAISING A CRY THAT THIS IS NOT HE WHOM I SAW IN MY DREAM, AND FOR WHOM I HAVE BEEN TROUBLED FOR YEARS.

That ancient juggler, this revolving sphere,
To trouble men its tricks devises here.
Of hope it binds the wretched with the chain
To hopelessness to lead him back again;
Fruit to the palate shows in distant view,
That unfulfilled hope he may sadly rue.
When on the tent the Vazír threw his shade,
Zuleikha was within there with her maid.
Desire to see drew from her hand the rein;
She said: “O ancient sharer of my pain,
“Contrive it so that I may have one look,
“For now no longer patience can I brook.
“And never greater the desire to see
“Than when one's love 'neath the same roof may be.
“Of thirsty souls should water touch the lip,
“They burn the mouth to moisten with a sip.”
When her nurse saw disturbed Zuleikha grew,
Her mistress round the tent she slily drew,
And in the tent with cunning and design
She made a hole as eye of needle fine.
When to that hole Zuleikha fixed her eye,
From a grief-laden heart she heaved a sigh.
“Alas,” she cried; “strange things do me befall;
“Still uncompleted now falls down my wall.
“Whom in my dream I saw, this is not he,
“In search of whom I bore this misery.
“Not he, my sense and wit away who bore,
“And to unconsciousness my reins gave o'er.
“Who told his secret, 'tis not he again,
“Who made my consciousness resume its reign.
“Alas! my slack fate brings me hardship still,
“The rising of my star has brought me ill.
“I planted palms for dates; thorns only grew.
“I scattered seeds of love that brought me rue.
“Much grief I suffered for a treasure's sake,
“And to my hand has fallen but a snake.
“Towards the garden drew me roses' scent;
“The thorn's spear caught me and my skirt was rent.
“I wander thirsting in the desert sand,
“For water hastening on every hand.
“Upon my lip my dry tongue falls through thirst;
“Pustules upon my lip in blood-waves burst.
“Sudden afar had water on me shone;
“In desperate rise and fall I hurried on:
“In place of water in a pit I find
“Shining in sun-light salt earth left behind.
“I am that traveller lost upon the hill
“For want of food below a mount of ill.
“Stones from my feet have torn the flesh away,
“Nor strength have I to move nor wish to stay.
“All of a sudden through my bloody tears
“This image whom I long have lost appears.
“As tow'rds him to advance I make me bold,
“A raging lion fate makes me behold.
“I am the merchant whose bark rocks have torn,
“Who on a plank sits naked and forlorn.
“My place through waves can I no moment keep,
“Now to the sky they bear me, now the deep,
“When suddenly a boat there comes in sight,
“And glads me that my task may yet be light;
“But it approaches me without delay,
“And is a crocodile sent me to slay.
“On the whole earth there 's no more wretched wight,
“Of wretched ones none in more hopeless plight.
“No heart is left me, charmer none I know,
“Stones on my heart, dust on my head I throw.
“Pardon for God's sake, heaven, on me bestow,
“In love show me a gate through which to go.
“Beneath my friend's skirt if I be not laid,
“Let me be captive to none other made.
“Do not thou tear the vest of my repute,
“And let no other hand my skirt pollute.
“My purpose have I vowed within my soul
“And ever strive to keep my treasure whole.
“Consume me not with pain who helpless stand,—
“Give not my treasure to a dragon's hand.”
After this manner she for long complained,
And blood from every pointed eye-lash rained.
From soul and rent heart uttering cries profound,
In grief she rubbed her face upon the ground.
Of mercy then arose in flight the bird,
And from the hidden world a voice she heard.
“Raise from the dust, O wretched one, thy face:
“Ease shall of difficulty take the place.
“Egypt's Vazír is not thy heart's desire:
“That wish without him mayst thou not acquire.
“Through him thou seest the beauty of thy friend,
“Thou gain'st thy heart's aim through him in the end.
“Let not his friendship terror bring to thee;
“In safety will he keep thy silver key.
“For his key's teeth are all of waxen mould;
“Of waxen key the business may be told.
“To guard thy jewel, then, what is thy need?
“In diamond's work soft iron fails indeed—
“If of a light thorn they a needle make,
“How will a hard rock its long stitches take?
“Where of a hand the sleeve is void, 'tis clear,
“There of a dagger there need be no fear.”
Zuleikha, when she heard these words of grace,
Rubbed on the ground in thankfulness her face.
Tongue free from means and lip from cries, her blood
She girded up her loins to swallow, like a bird.
Through eating blood she only breathed with pain;
She burnt with grief and yet did not complain.
Fixed on the road her eye, awaited she:
“When shall this matter's knots all loosened be?”

THE ARRIVAL OF ZULEIKHA WITH THE VAZIR OF EGYPT, AND THE COMING OUT OF THE EGYPTIANS AND MAKING OFFERINGS OF GOLDEN BOXES ON THE LITTER OF ZULEIKHA.

When on its golden drum the starlit arch
The signal beat for the night's morning march,
The stars their own assembly rendered void¹⁵⁹
And joining with the night their burdens tied.
Of that gold-scattering drum was from the light
The peacock's tail with parrot's hue bedight.
With royal pomp the Vazír forward went,
Placed in her litter that moon from her tent.
To right and left, before, behind her, too,
The army he arranged in order due,
With gold umbrellas that o'er beauties' head
Was as of golden trees a shadow made;
A jewelled saddle beneath every tree,
A throne for every fair one there would be.
And in the midst of tree, and shade, and throne,
The fair one sitting there went moving on.
The singers now attuned their voice to song,
The camel-drivers shouting¹⁶⁰ pushed along.
With sound of melody and Huda shout
Heav'n's vault and desert plain were filled throughout.
From steeds and camels moving on amain
Of moons and crescents full were vale and plain.
At times from every side in headlong pace
The crescent, wounding, cut the full moon's face:
At others, from the full moon rising clear,
The crescent would then wane and disappear;¹⁶¹
Wounded by horses' hoof where earth had bled,
The camel's foot a plaster there would spread.
Drives to their saddle-seat the rampant deer,¹⁶²
The horses' neigh, as bell resounding clear;
The girls at ease in litters borne along
Follow the camel-drivers' cry and song;
Zuleikha's handmaids were in mirth and glee
That she of separation's fiend was free.
The Vazír, and his people, too, were glad
His house for mistress such an idol had.
Zuleikha, bitter in her litter pent,
The heav'n with cries and lamentation rent.
“O fortune! why hast thou me so oppressed?
“Why hold me so impatient, without rest?
“Nor do I know what I have done to thee
“That thou hast thrown me into misery.
“In visions first didst thou despoil my heart,
“Waking, a thousand woes didst thou impart.
“At times of madness binding with the chain,
“At times in bounty loosing me again.
“When thou didst break me, I myself was free:
“I erred in seeking remedies from thee.
“How should I know that when a cure I sought,
“To exile thou wouldst me have brought?
“Enough for me the pain myself I knew,
“The pain of exile thou hast giv'n me, too.
“Be melting souls a remedy for thee,
“What, God defend us! will that melting be?
“Fraud's snare, upon my road, oh! do not place;
“Nor throw stones on my bowl of patience' face.
“Promise that henceforth thou in happiness
“With ease of life wilt thy own soul possess.
“Well with that promise should I be content:
“Who knows is such a lot for me is meant?”
As thus Zuleikha spoke to Heaven's ear,
The time the baggage to unload came near,
And from the guides there rose the hasty cry:
“Lo! Egypt's city and Nile's bank are night.”
Thousands of souls Nile's margin round about,
On foot and horseback standing raised a shout.
Egypt's Vazír by way of gratitude
With bounteous hand before that litter strewed
Gold caskets full of dirams and of gold,
Caskets of jewels and of pearls untold.¹⁶³
Jewels the offerers were scattering
As on the flowering mead the clouds of spring,
From gold and gems those many hands that shower,
The litter hid as in a jewelled bower.
From many jewels that men threw around
Upon the road no horse-hoof touched the ground.
Horse-shoes and rubies clashing as they passed,
As stone and iron fire around them cast.
Their presents scattering there mile on mile
The people line in rows the banks of Nile.
And in the Nile pearls deck each fish's ear,
As in the oyster royal gems appear.
Whilst from the dirams¹⁶⁴ scattered in the stream
The crocodiles themselves all dirams seem.
Thus moving forwards all in kingly state
With pomp they soon drew near the royal gate.
A Paradise on earth the palace reared,
Before it sun and moon mere bricks appeared.
Within that palace had a throne been placed,
Than other thrones with far more beauty graced.
The master goldsmith to that throne applied
Gold by the ass-load, all the gems beside.
To that gold-cradled seat they led her on,
Placed like a jewel on a golden throne.
From her heart's scar she yet was never free:¹⁶⁵
Sitting in flames of gold she seemed to be.
A jewelled crown upon her head they placed,
And throne and crown both with her beauty graced.
Beneath that heavy diadem was still
Her heart as weighed down as 'twere 'neath a hill.
Those plenteous jewels poured upon her head
A very rain of sorrow seemed instead,
And from those gems, the envy of the sun,
Naught from her eye but pearls of tears would run.
With separation he whose heart is torn
But for a moment¹⁶⁶ tow'rds a throne is borne.
Who on that plain wears on his head a crown
Where heads in hundreds go to ruin down?
When fills the eye with tears of sheer despair,
What room is there for pearls and jewels there?