Yūsuf va Zuleikha - Joseph and Zuleikha (Rogers)

THE PASSING OF HER LIFE BY ZULEIKHA IN SEPARA-TION FROM JOSEPH (ON WHOM BE PEACE!), AND HER LAMENTATION AND SIGHING BY NIGHT AND BY DAY.

When with one charmer the heart gains its ease,
How can with any other union please?
When does the loving moth fly tow'rds the sun,
When its own light its face in hope has won?
Place scented herbs the nightingale before,
It loves the rose's perfume and no more.
When on the water-lily falls the sun's bright fire,
To see the moon why should it e'er desire?
When longs the thirsty soul for water pure,
It profits not clear sugar to procure.
In that abode of happiness and bliss
Of luxury could naught Zuleikha miss.
The Vazír ever as her slave at hand,
Both wealth and gold were aye at her command.
Rose-bodied servants, all perfumed with rose,
Looked for no ease in serving or repose.
Handmaids, enchanting and beloved of all,
Stood ever ready to obey her call.
Slaves all loin-girded, clad in rich brocade,
As sugar candied sweet from foot to head,
With black men also, all of amber hue;
Like angels of pure skirt, no lust they knew.
The Haram¹⁶⁷ they frequent in harmless play,
True to the Haram's service day by day.
With Egypt's ladies sitting in one place,
For goodness known and delicate in grace,
Of equal dignity and equal birth,
Associating with her in her mirth,
Zuleikha, seated in her audience hall,¹⁶⁸
Where friends and strangers entered, equal all,
Enjoyment's carpet had spread out, the while
Her heart was bleeding, on her lip a smile.
While holding converse outwardly with all,
Her heart was in another place a thrall.¹⁶⁹
To talk with people she her lip would lend,
Whilst heart and soul were ever with her friend.
In grief and joy but to that burden tied,
A lasting bond she sought with none beside.
She seemed to sit with those of mortal kind,
But inwardly from all had freed her mind.
This was her mood till night from dawn of day,
Among her friends was ever this her way.
When night upon her face the veil had thrown,
Moon-like, behind the veil she sat alone;
Till morn within her chamber would she oft
Place her friend's form upon a cushion soft,
On honour's knee before it once again
Would there relate it all her grief and pain,
And as she tuned her harp to trouble's air,
The song commence to sing of sheer despair.
She said: “O thou the object of this life of mine,
“Who of thyself in Egypt gavest me the sign,
“Of Egypt's Vazír didst thou give the name:
“For ever may endure thy greatness' fame!
“My head with honour's crown thy love will grace,
“Thy handmaid's service fortune there may trace.
“Lonely and strange in Egypt I arrived,
“Of union with thee by hard fate deprived.
“Oh! with this flame how long shall I consume,
“And with this fire my lamp of woe illume?
“Come! Of my heart's garden the adornment be!
“May my heart's would be salved in meeting thee!
“Hopeless became the matter of my love:
“Gave me new hope a message from above.
“When from that hope my life new being took,
“Dust of despair from off my skirt I shook.
“From light thy beauty on my heart has cast,
“I know that I shall win thee at the last.
“From thy desire although my eye should bleed,
“Tow'rds four of six sides¹⁷⁰ does my eye give heed.
“Happy the day when thou approachest near,
“When to my eye as moon thou shalt appear.
“When I shall see thee, I shall cease to be
“And my life's carpet be rolled up by me.
“Of my own thoughts then shall I lose the thread,
“In madness shall myself astray be led.
“Me in my place again thou wilt not see,
“Coming as life, in my soul's place thou'lt be.
“In this and in the next world thou my hope,
“When I win thee, of self to speak what scope?
“I lay aside all thoughts of us and me,
“Why should I seek myself in finding thee?”
Thus speaking, morn to night she turned again
Nor until morning would her lips restrain.
And when the morning breeze began to rise,
Began to speak again in other wise.
She said: “O Zephyr of the morning, blow;
“In jess'mine's bosom make musk-scent to flow.—
“Of cypress and of lily deck the place;
“With spikenard's moist locks rub the roses's face.
“Stirring the branches, leaves ring bells of mirth;
“The tree will dance, though fast its foot in earth.
“Thou bearest lovers' messages to please,
“And with the motion lovers bringest ease.
“By thee are charmers' soothing letters borne;
“Comfort thou bearest to all those who mourn.
“None in the world more sorrowful than I,
“And none more pained by parting's misery.
“My heart is sick: affection bring to play:
“My sorrow 's great; oh! drive my grief away!
“There is no place upon the earth below
“Where thou some time or other canst not go:
“Thy way through iron doors thou couldst take,
“Were the doors closed, through windows entrance make.
“Have mercy on me helpless, gone astray,
“And make a search for me in every way.
“Of ruling monarchs pass thou through the town,
“Pass by the throne of those who wear a crown;
“In every city seek this moon of mine,
“Search of my king on every throne the sign.
“On every sweet spring garden cast a look,
“Step on the margin of each purling brook.
“On any river that thou passest by,
“That charming cypress may there meet thy eye.
“On Tartar desert thy kind foot be pressed;
“In China's picture-houses stay and rest.
“Look for a model that his tale may tell,
“And from his perfume capture the gazelle.
“To leave that country should the thought prevail,
“Where'er thou pass in every hill and vale;
“There graceful moving should a partridge stand,
“Rememb'ring him, strike on its skirt thy hand.
“If on the road thou meet a caravan,
“With at his head a heart-enchanting man,
“See in my eye of my own life that king,
“That caravan into this country bring.
“It may be so, that charmer when I see,
“That from hope's bush a rose may gathered be.”
From morning's dawn until the shining sun
Into the plain of day in haste moved on,
With eye blood-shedding and heart full of pain
She to the morning breeze addressed her strain.
When the sun lit the world with its bright ray,
She lit up her assembly as the day.
Attendants stood before her in their rows,
And in her beauty her friends found repose.
With those pure-bosomed ones of cleanly heart
As yesterday she took her common part.
Such her condition every night and day,
The moons and years aye passing thus away.
When tedium in the house was hard to bear,
She in all haste would to the fields repair.
At times heart-scarred with sighing and lament,
She in the plain like tulip pitched her tent:
To tulip there that rose's secret spoke,
And from her scarred heart would sad speech evoke.
At times like flood she gave her torrent head,
And tow'rds the Nile with weeping eyes she sped:
Before it casting her own woe awhile,
She washed her mourning garment in the Nile,
And in this fashion as she passed the day,
Her eye fixed firm on expectation's way;
Her lover by what road would he draw near,
Rise as the sun or as the moon appear?
Come, Jámi; let us exercise our thought,
That Canaan's moon from Canaan may be brought.
With hope implanted in Zuleikha's breast,
Upon the royal road her eye at rest.
Her longing has beyond all limits passed.
Give me her cure, her love to meet at last.
After long expectation, oh! how sweet
That with her hope the hoping one should meet!

THE COMMENCEMENT OF THE STORY OF THE ENVY BORNE TOWARDS JOSEPH BY HIS BROTHERS, AND OF THEIR ARRANGING TO TAKE VENGEANCE ON HIM IN CONCERT.

The scribe of this pen from some master old
Such words as these has in this volume told.
As Joseph now to greater beauty grew,
Was Jacob's heart enchanted with the view;
Saw him the very apple of his eye,¹⁷¹
His other sons neglected passing by—
His love to him would more and more renew,
So that each day their envy greater grew.
There was a tree that in his palace seen
Increased his pleasure with its freshness green.
Whose base was in its place so firmly laid,
It threw upon the ground its bounty's shade,
Like those cell-dwellers who are robed in green
And moved with frantic ecstasy are seen.
Each leaf to utter praises was a tongue,
By which due praises to God's name were sung.
Beyond the azure dome its branches fair,
As sparrows sitting, angels rested there.
With every son that God did him provide,
From that glad tree that with the Sidrah¹⁷² vied,
A fresh branch sprouting would there come to view
Which with the infant's stature equal grew.
And when the child arrived at age mature,
A green rod from the tree would he procure.
Yet not for Joseph, on whom fortune beamed,
For whom no stick from that tree worthy seemed.
He of life's garden was a plant, unfit
That any wooden branch should vie with it.
He to his father one night said aside:
“O thou to whose arm conquest is allied,
“Pray thou that He in Whom our surety lies¹⁷³
“A rod for me may grow in Paradise,
“Which from the time of youth till I am old
“Where'er I fall may ever me uphold,
“And both in sport and in the battle field,
“Over my brothers me the palm may yield.”
Then humble prayer to God his father made,
As Joseph wished, his supplication laid.
Down from the Sidrah tree a jasper rod
A heav'nly messenger conveyed from God.
This by time's axe had never wounded been,
Nor from fate's saw had it e'er trouble seen.
Strong and of weighty price, yet light the while,
Nor oil nor colour might the rod defile.
He brought word down that by the grace of God
Pillar of royal house should be the rod.
When new strength Joseph from this gift obtained,
Struck down with grief the envious remained.¹⁷⁴
From being's source the stripes by that rod dealt
More heavy than a hundred blows were felt.
Each one within himself conceived a thought,
Into his heart the plant of envy brought.
This to their nature first might vigour lend,
But of disgrace would bear fruit in the end.

THE BEHOLDING BY JOSEPH IN A DREAM OF THE WORSHIP OF THE SUN AND MOON AND THE ELEVEN PLANETS, THE HEARING OF THE SAME BY HIS BROTHERS, AND THE INCREASE OF THEIR ENVY AGAINST HIM.

Blessed he from outward form who freedom gains,
Whose eyes are not closed by magicians' chains.
His heart awake, his eye sweet slumbers close,
None e'er so wakeful in such calm repose.
His eyelids, closed to what will not endure,
Open to what eternal is and sure,
Lay Joseph before Jacob's eyes one night,
Loved in his eye more than his very sight.
His head on pillow laid in slumber mild,
His lip of beauty there in sweetness smiled.
His tender lips with that sweet smile apart,
Brought sweet excitement into Jacob's heart.
Joseph's moist eyelids from their sleep unclose,
And as his fortune he from dreams arose.
His father said: “Sugar is shamed of thee:
“Of that sweet smile what may the reason be?”
“I saw in dream,” he said, “the moon and sun,
“With the eleven planets, all as one,
“Their heads in salutation lowly place,
“And bow in reverence before my face.”
“Such speech as this,” his father warned him, “shun:
“Tell not, beware! thy dream to any one.
“If this, which God forbid, thy brothers know,
“They'll wake thee with a hundred times more woe;
“A thousand furies in their heart ne'er cease:
“When in their passion will they give thee peace?
“The dream's interpretation is too clear:
“With it in patience they will never bear.”
The father's warning thus; but Fate ordains,
And with a breath it breaks device's chains.
The tale which Joseph told in some one's ear,
Told by that man his brothers came to hear.
Hast heard that what by more than two is known,
Common to every tongue will soon have flown?
A wise man says: “Of lips there are but two;
“It is not right that secrets pass them through.”
Secrets that from between two lips are freed
May cause a hundred warriors to bleed.
Well said that utterer of maxims deep:
“He who would keep his head should secrets keep.”
The wild bird from his cage who freedom gains,
With tales thou canst no longer bind in chains.
Now when his brothers had heard Joseph's tale,
They tore their very robes, with anger pale.
“What are our father's thoughts, O God,” they cried,
“On gain and loss that he can not decide?
“Does he not know what from a child can come,
“That children only childish things become?
“From weaving falsehoods he will never cease
“That his own dignity he may increase.
“The poor old man deceit finds at his hands,
“In his companionship unsettled stands.
“Our sweet connection with him would he break,
“Our father's love would from his children take.
“Our father now has raised his head so high,
“He cares not for so much of dignity.
“He would that we, in darkness robed profound,
“To worship him should fall upon the ground—
“Father and mother, too, as well as we.
“This pitch of self-exalting may not be;
“We are our father's traffickers, not he:
“He wishes not our father well, but we
“By day in deserts guarding flocks aright,
“We are the guardians of his house at night.
“Both against foes his arm of strength are we,
“And among friends from us his dignity.
“What has he ever seen in him but tricks
“That he above us all on him should fix?
“To cure this, come, let us provide a way,
“That on some road he may to ruin stray.
“Between us since there is no sympathy
“But him to exile there's no remedy.
“Gird we our loins to find some helpful way,
“Before the power from us pass away;
“Or ere the thorn grows up in infamy,
“Tear up its root ere it becomes a tree.”
To find a fitting remedy in league
They sat themselves together to intrigue.

THE CONSPIRING OF THE BROTHERS WITH EACH OTHER IN ORDER TO REMOVE JOSEPH (ON WHOM BE PEACE!) FROM HIS FATHER.

When difficulties happen to the wise,
In his affairs whence trouble may arise,
To his own sense he adds another's wit,
That aid he may procure in solving it.
Should with one candle the house not be bright,
He places in its midst another light.
For the right-seeing ones these words, forsooth,
For those who sit upon the seat of truth:
Not for the crooked-thinking, crooked face;
Crookedness between two such grows apace.
When Joseph's brothers conference began
In Joseph's matter to concoct a plan,
“He has through sorrow shed our blood,” one said:
“We need a stratagem his blood to shed.
“When a fierce foe one has in hand, and sure,
“By killing him one may be quite secure.”
One said: “Of wickedness this is the way,
“One innocent that we should think to slay.
“If we of cruelty should drive the steed,
“Are we not faithless¹⁷⁵ in his death indeed?
“To drive him from this house our only aim,
“Not that he die, or we should kill or maim.
“'Twere well he from our sire should far be led,
“Alone, deserted, in some valley dread—
“Some desert where but snares and beasts are had,
“With naught but wolves and foxes, good or bad,—
“But tears of hopelessness no water there,—
“Except the sun's round orb no loaf to share,—
“Except night's darkness where would be no shade,—
“No couch but what on thorns' sharp points was laid.
“For some time if on them to rest he lie,
“He of himself without doubt soon would die.
“Nor with his blood our swords would coloured be;
“From wound of tales and tricks we should be free.”
Another said: “'Tis death of other kind;
“Any worse death than this one could not find.
“I've heard 'tis best to perish with the knife,
“Not to yield up to thirst and hunger life.
“'Twere better, then, that we should seek and mark
“Some well, or far or near, but cramped and dark.
“There from his seat of honour will we throw
“Him with a hundred piercing slights below.
“Perhaps some caravan may see the place,
“And there may halt to rest themselves a space.
“Some one may lower in the well a cup,
“And in the place of water draw him up.
“Some one may take him as a son or slave,
“And make all haste to bear him off and save.
“Connected with this place he will not stay,
“Whilst that we injured him they cannot say.”
When thus was told the tale of that dark well,
They all themselves into it headlong fell.
Their own well of deceit they did not know,
And all without a rope went down below.
Moving as hypocrites their father's heart,
In lying they agreed to bear their part.
To their own business then they went their way,—
Postponing this until another day.

THE ASKING BY THE BROTHERS FOR JOSEPH FROM THEIR FATHER, AND THE TAKING OF JOSEPH (ON WHOM BE PEACE!) BEFORE THEIR FATHER.

In self-oblivion's corner aye confined,
Happy are they whom self's bonds never bind;—
From nature's bonds free and deceits of lust,
Who in pain's road and love's street are but dust.
To vex men's heart no dust from them will rise,
Nor on them from mankind a burden lies.
Under the world's obstructions aye content,
To burdens all that come their backs are bent.
Sleeping at night who anger never keep,
Awaking in the morn are as they sleep.
Joseph's detractors in the morning gay,
Rejoicing in their thoughts of yesterday,
Love on their tongues, their hearts still hatred keep,
As wolves are hidden in the form of sheep.
Seeing their father, the Ihrám¹⁷⁶ they bound,
Respectful kneeling down upon the ground.
Opening the door of fraud to over-reach,
They of hypocrisy began the speech.
They talked of everything, both old and new,
Till to the point they wished the story drew.
“From weariness at home we suffer grief,
“And in the desert air would seek relief.
“If thou wilt give us leave, we all intend
“To-morrow in the desert out to spend.
“Joseph, our brother, that light of our eyes,
“Is young and seldom in the desert lies.
“Our dignity to heighten with intent,
“How would it be if he, too, with us went?
“In the house-corner sits he night and day;
“‘Send him to-morrow out to sport and play.’
“Sometimes with him the desert path we'll tread:
“To hill and wood at times shall he be led.
“At times we'll draw the sweet milk of the sheep,
“And drink while laughter shall us merry keep.
“Of the green sward we'll make a place to play,
“Or to the tulip beds will lead the way.
“From off the tulip's head its cup upborne,
“With it will we our Joseph's head adorn.
“With skirts as those of partridge lifted high,
“Graceful upon the sward shall be pass by.
“At one place for the grazing deer we'll care,
“Or of the wolves he might in pieces tear.
“Perhaps we thus his spirits may revive,
“And weariness of home away may drive.
“With wonders though you every effort use,
“Can nothing but his play a child amuse.”
When Jacob heard what they had all to say,
The collar of consent he rent away.
“That you should take him how can I agree?
“'Twould mean but sorrow in my heart for me.
“I fear for him lest you should have no care,
“And of his state should be neglectful there,
“And on that ancient plain, so full of woe,
“To him some old wolf his sharp teeth should show.
“Those teeth may close upon him in the strife,
“And rend his tender body and my life.”
When those deceitful ones these words had heard,
Another tale to tell to them occurred.
“Of purpose all so weak we do not live,
“That we ten corpses to one wolf should give.
“Were he no wolf, but lion men to eat,
“Soon like a fox he'd lie beneath our feet.”
And when these words to Jacob's ear attained,
From making more excuses he refrained.
Joseph he let them to the desert bear
To his own realm inviting woe and care.

THE CARRYING AWAY OF JOSEPH BY HIS BROTHERS FROM BEFORE HIS FATHER, AND THROWING HIM INTO A WELL.

Woe to this trickery sphere, which every day
Casts in a well some beauteous moon away.
Gazelles that feed in pastures of the soul
Of some wolf's claw it places in control.
When Joseph to those ravening wolves was giv'n,
“Wolves carry off the lambs,” exclaimed the heav'n.
Whilst they remain before their father's eyes
Each with the other in affection vies.
One holds him on his head or back at rest;
Another to his bosom tightly pressed—
When on the desert's edge they placed their feet
Then with the hand of cruelty they beat.
No more upon the back of kindness borne,
They threw him on the hard rock or the thorn.
His foot in thorns and mud that naked went
With thorns and grass as if with nails was rent.
His shoes thrown off, upon the rocky road
His silver foot the stones tore as he trod.
His foot's sole, tightly which the mud retained.
Amongst the thorns and rocks with blood was stained.
Behind those ten hard hands stayed he to rest,
With slaps and blows his fair cheek was distressed.
(May soon the sword cut off the hand of those,
Who with a tender moon could come to blows!)
If he went on, like flood would pour the blow,
A Nile behind him as the face of foe.
('Twere better that that man should pinioned be
Who such a fair neck could e'er broken see!)
If he proceeded with them side by side
They pulled his ear for him on every side.
(He with his finger who would rub that ear,
Of all but fingers may his fist lie bare!)
Wailing, the skirt of any if he pressed,
Open he cruelly would tear his vest.
Weeping if he the foot of one embraced,
Laughing upon that head a foot was placed.
To whomsoever he with groaning spoke,
Naught but abusive songs he would provoke.
Hopeless from them, when he would weep and moan,
Blood from his eye on tulip flowers was sown.
Sometimes in blood, sometimes in dust he lay;
Shattered his heart with sorrow, he would say:
“Where hast thou gone, my father? Where, oh! where?
“That thou for my misfortune dost not care?
“Come! Of thy handmaids now the sons behold,
“Fallen from wisdom, from thy Faith of old—
“Come, see the wretched plight in which I stand,
“Ground to the dust of envy by the hand.
“Thou hast thy precious one thyself brought low,
“And by the hand thou maimest of his foe.
“To claws of those that know no mercy thrown;
“Of wolves the power thy gazelle must own.
“See with thy hearts' hope what desire have they,
“And how thy favours they would now repay.
“In thy life's garden the sweet rose that grew,
“Aye watered of thy bounty with the dew,
“Through thirst, dried up with fever, it remains,
“And neither hue nor moisture it retains.
“The soft plant reared as Paradise's own,
“That in the garden of life's house was sown,
“Through cruel wind has fallen in the dust,
“And thorns and grass their heads above it thrust.
“The moon that lit the darkness of thy night,
“And was of gloomy fate far from the sight,
“Has heaven overcast in such a way
“That from the crescent moon it seeks a ray.”
Thus for three leagues was he then dragged afar,
Peaceful, but with those stony hearts at war.
Harsh looks from them in him with mildness meet,
And cold abusive words from him with heat.
Of a well suddenly they reached the head,
And at its head there were their footsteps stayed.
A well, dark, narrow as a tyrant's tomb,
That e'en on wisdom's eye would cast a gloom.
Then were its lips as dragon's mouth agape,
That men from outside for its food would rape;
Inside of men-oppressors as the mind,
And full of serpents to torment mankind.
Its circle was the centre-point to grieve;
Its depth beyond man's power to conceive.
Full of impurity its depth profound,
Fetid its air, brackish its spring was found.
And if a breather there an instant stayed
A bar across his breathing's road was laid.
When they that rose-faced moon to drive away
Approach the well, all horrid as it lay,
Against their cruelty he cried once more,
And wept and wailed in such a measure sore,
That if the rock had understood the moan,
Softer than wax would have become the stone.
Yet as the pleading voice became more shrill,
Their stony hearts grew ever harder still.
How may I tell how cruel they became?
My heart will not permit to give it name.
Upon those arms which, if the silk of heav'n
Had touched, it would great pain have giv'n.
Of goats' and sheeps' hair made they bound a string,
In every hair of which there was a sting.
His slender waist, with finest hair that vied,
They with a woollen rope made fast and tied.
His robe from off his body then they tear,—
Like rose without its bud that form was bare,
But with reproach their own robes cut away
From their own stature for the Judgment Day.
Then him within the well that day they hung,
And half-way to the water downwards slung.
As the world-lighting sun in beauty clear,
They cast into the wave that shining sphere.
Above the water in the well a stone
He made a place for him to sit upon.
Behold what blessing to that rock there came,
That it a mine of precious gems became!
Whilst from his lip, as fresh as sugar new,
That brackish water to sweet honey grew.
Lit by his cheek, the well at once grew bright,
As the earth lit up by the moon at night,
The odour from his attar¹⁷⁸ shedding hair
Removed the smell from the well's putrid air.
Each noxious thing, when that light rose revealed,
Down in another hole itself concealed.
He had a garment that contained a charm,
That saved his grandsire from the fire's alarm.
From Rizván¹⁷⁹ down to Abraham it came;
Into a bed of roses it turned flame.
Soon from the Sidrah Gabriel came to view
And from his side the amulet he drew.
Forth from that place he brought out then the vest
And that pure body with it robed and dressed.
Then said: “O thou with parting's sorrow rent,
“By me the Eternal has a message sent,
“Some day those on thee who this evil wrought,
“That band who have such evil in their thought,
“Heart-wounded more than thou shalt ever be,
“With bowed heads will I bring them here to thee.
“Thou shalt these cruelties to them recite,
“Nor thy condition shalt thou bring to light
“These as thou knowest shalt thou all declare:
“They shall not know of thee a single hair.”
From Gabriel this promise Joseph gained,
And by his brothers' deeds was no more pained.
It seemed to him a throne, that slab of stone,
And Joseph sat as monarch on his throne.
And whilst he sorrowed stood the Faithful Soul¹⁸⁰
To wait upon him and his heart console.

THE ARRIVAL OF THE CARAVAN AT THE WELL, AND THE BRINGING UP OF JOSEPH (ON WHOM BE PEACE!) LIKE THE MOON.

In God's name, what a fortunate caravan,
From which for water came a knowing man.
He drew up from the well his bucket soon,
And from Aquarius' sign arose a moon.
For three days in the pit did that moon dwell,
As dwells the full moon in the “Nakhshab” well.¹⁸¹
As the fourth day upon this azure sky,
Rose the lost Joseph from the well on high.
With goods prepared from many cities round,
For Egypt with propitious fortune bound,
A caravan had wandered from its road,
Pitched tents and there to rest undid its load.
Happy the wand'rer who might lose his way
And come where such a guide as Joseph lay.
Around the well they made their camping-place,
And seeking water thither turned their face.
There came one first who was by fortune blessed,
And tow'rds life's water there who forward pressed.
In the dark well that one of Khisr¹⁸² face
Let down his bucket on the water's trace.
To Joseph Gabriel faithful said: “Arise!
“Pour mercy's water which the thirsty prize.
“Like the bright sun sit in the pail at rest,
“And hasten to the East from tow'rds the West.
“Make the well's edge thy own horizon bright,
“Illumine that horizon's veil with light.
“Throw from thy face upon the world a ray:—
“Illumine once again the earth with day.”
From the well's stone then Joseph leapt in haste,
Himself as water in the pail he placed.
The strong man then the bucket upwards drew,
And what a pail of water weighed he knew.
“To-day the pail is heavier,” he cried:
“Than water there is something more beside.”
As rose that world's moon from the well on high,
Rose of good tidings from his soul the cry,—
Glad news that from that dark well came to birth
A moon that should illumine many an earth;
Glad news that from a brackish well obscure
Water there should arise so fresh and pure.
A rose had in that desert been revealed,
Yet from the rest he kept it there concealed.
To the encampment he conveyed him then,
And handed him in secret to his men,
Just as with luck one may a treasure gain,
And yet unless concealed 'twill bring him pain.
Those envious ones as well were standing by,
What might become of him to promptly spy,
There constantly they lingered round to wait,
To learn what possibly might be his fate.
When of the caravan the news they found,
To know in haste the well they gathered round.
In secret they called Joseph by his name,
But nothing from the well but echo came;
And thence towards the caravan they went,
Into their power to bring Joseph bent.
And after searching with much pain and care
Amidst the caravan they found him there.
“This is our slave,” in seizing him they said,
“Out of faith's collar who has wrenched his head.
“For work and service he is not inclined,
“But tow'rds flight for long has set his mind.
“He has no wish to do his service well;
“Thus him, though of the house, we fain would sell.
“The service of a bad slave in his mood
“Is more of evil service than of good.
“Better that thou shouldst sell him ev'n for naught:
“Into restraint from ill he 'll not be brought.
“Much pains we will not take on his account:
“'Twere best to sell him for some small amount.”
Thus the young man who from the well had brought,
Joseph from them at some small value bought.
The young man was to Málik fully known;
He for a trifle made the slave his own.
With fastened loads the caravans then went,
On reaching Egypt on their aim intent.
Wrong he who sells a soul as merchandise
Who sells for trifles such a goodly prize.
All Egypt's income for one look from him!
And a life's goods for but one word from him!
Yet of his costliness can Jacob tell;
At what to purchase knows Zuleikha well.
Sells fortune's treasure he who 's void of sense,
And frowning gives it but for some few pence.¹⁸³

THE BRINGING OF JOSEPH BY MALIK INTO THE NEIGHBOURHOOD OF EGYPT, AND THE SENDING OF THE VAZIR BY THE KING TO MEET HIM.

When Málik without labour in his trade
His foot by chance upon such treasure laid,
Upon the ground before that charmer's face
Through joy it on that journey found no place,
But his soul feeding on a distant scent,
Turning two stages into one he went.
From far when he came near to Egypt's bound,
The tale 'mong Egypt's people passed around:
“Málik's long road to-day will find its end:
“A Hebrew slave he's bringing as his friend.
“No slave is this, but 'tis a brilliant sun,
“For the world's capital that's fortune won,
“A shining moon of goodness on the height,
“In realm of love a king of omens bright.
“The heav'n with all its eyes could never see
“Like picture in earth's picture gallery.”
The rumour reached the King of Egypt's ear,
And he from jealousy was vexed to hear.¹⁸⁴
“A garden of fair beauty 's Egypt's earth:
“No other land can give such roses birth.
“Roses above in Paradise that grow
“From shame before their face are shed below.”
He said to Egypt's Vazír: “Do thou go,
“To meet the caravan and honour show.
“With thy own eyes do thou behold this moon;
“Bring him thyself here to the palace soon.”
Towards the caravan the Vazír went,—
His look upon that ease of heart he bent.
And so that single look did him enthrall,
In worship he would fain before him fall.
But Joseph raised from off the ground his brow;
Before his face he would not let him bow,
And said: “Before Him only bend thy head,
“Who on thy neck from first hath blessing shed.”
Then the Vazír of Málik asked this thing,
That he would bring him to the conquering king.
He said: “In coming I should have no fear,
“And hope that I should find thy favours near;
“I pray that thou wilt my excuses take,
“And leave me in my camp for quiet's sake.
“For two or three days let us be at rest;
“From want of sleep and food are we oppressed.
“Our face from dust, from dirt our bodies free,
“Cleanly will we attend his Majesty.”
When Egypt's Vazír heard this subtle thing,
He went back to the presence of the king.
Of Joseph's beauty he a trifle said,
And the king's soul to jealousy was led.
He gave a sign that thousands of the fair,
The monarchs of the realm of beauty there,
With heads with gold caps all of which were graced,
And clad in robes with gold embroidery traced,
With waists that gem-bespangled belts adorn,
And mouths with lips on which sweet smiles are born,
From beauty's grove like roses to collect,
From Egypt rosy-faced ones all select,
When Joseph to the market came, that they
Before the purchasers should him display.
Then with such forms and qualities should those
To Joseph's boasted claims themselves oppose:
Were he the world-revolving sun of old,
His market through those fire-faces would grow cold.

THE COMING OF JOSEPH TO THE WATER OF THE NILE AND WASHING OFF THE DUST OF THE JOURNEY AND SITTING ON A LOFTY SEAT.

On the fourth day, as promised, when the sun,
Joseph, above heav'n's Nile its place had won,
To Joseph Málik said: “O heart of grace,
“Make, like the sun, on the Nile's bank a place.
“Go; from thyself the road's dust wash away,
“And to the Nile honour with thy dust convey.”
At Málik's own command that shining sun
Alone towards the Nile then hastened on.
Raising his hand within his vest, was seen
On jessamine the water-lily's screen.
When from his head he took the golden cap of light,
Rose from sun's golden egg the crow of night.
As from his head he draws the clinging vest,
His skirt's the East, the Western moon his breast.
From his skirt's side the back and breast appear,
As from the circling sky the morning clear.
Binding in haste his linen drawers of blue,
As silver cypress tow'rds Nile's edge he drew.
From the blue sky, a cry there echoed round;
“From that moon's feet is Egypt prosp'rous found.
“How would it be if I, in place of Nile,
“Could kiss his foot and rest me there awhile!”
Forward the sun resolved himself to throw,
That his own spring upon the Nile should flow.
He sees the sun's spring for himself not meet,
And with Nile-water washes hands and feet.
From bank his feet towards the stream incline,
Just as the moon might enter Pisces' sign.
As the world-lighting sun in its ascent,
As water-lily in the wave he went.
Into the water as he naked dived,
From him the flowing stream fresh life derived.
As he unloosed his curling locks again,
His foot the flowing stream held with a chain.
For every kind of game he might prepare
From crescent to full moon an amber snare.
Water sometimes he pour'd upon his head,—
The Pleiads' gems upon the moon were shed.
At times he rubbed with hand his cheek so fair,
Or combed with hands as comb his spikenard hair.
Dust from face cleaned and dirt from body, too,
Like cypress on the banks of Nile he grew;—
From Málik's carpet-spreader called for vest,
His rose of jessamine with a fillet dressed.
Drew on his bosom then the fair brocade,
With many a pleasing figure that was made;—
The moon eclipsed by his gold diadem,
Put on his waist-belt decked with many a gem.
Two ringlets hung down so enchanting fair,
That filled with amber scent was Egypt's air.
That fair one on a litter then they place,
And to the royal castle set his face.
Outside the fort a platform there appeared,
Where for the king a daïs they had reared—
Before him many beauties standing there—
To gaze on Joseph's beauty all prepare.
Now on the daïs high the litter lies:
The whole world on that litter fix their eyes.
Perchance that day the heaven was concealed,
And to the world the sun was not revealed.
“O charmer,” then to Joseph Málik said;
“Out of thy litter to the throne be led.
“Thou art the sun: raise from thy cheek the veil,
“And let thy own light o'er the world prevail.”
When from the litter¹⁸⁶ Joseph took his way,
And on mankind threw like the sun his ray,
“It is the sun,” the seers thought awhile,
“Or 'tis a vapour rising from the Nile.”
The world-illuming sun was full in view:
This brilliance was not thence, they fully knew.
Hidden by clouds the sun was not yet bright.
In Joseph's face they knew this shining light;—
Beating their hands, amazed, on every side,
All people there who saw him loudly cried:
“Who is this star of fortune, God,” they said,
“Sun, moon, before whom hang with shame the head?”
And Egypt's beauties, their heads hanging down,
Their own destruction on his tablet own.
Wherever the bright sun appears beside,
Is Suha's remedy alone to hide.

THE COMING OF ZULEIKHA TO THE KING'S COURT, AND ASKING THE REASON OF THE ASSEMBLY, AND SEEING THE BEAUTY OF JOSEPH.

Of this Zuleikha had been unaware
That but two stages might bring Joseph there,
Yet to her inmost soul the tidings came;—
The scar of love had set her heart aflame.
She knew not her desire from whence it rose,
And sought by many stratagems repose.
Out to the desert went she, in belief
That from her heart it might expel her grief.
There for some days she stayed and lived distressed,
Her teeth together in her trouble pressed.
Luxury and pleasure in her train,
Yet every moment but increased her pain.
When there her harvest the flood bore away,
Again towards her home her longing lay.
Then once again she on her litter rode,
And took the way towards her own abode.
To her own house although she turned her face,
She passed along the castle's open space.
She saw the crowd and said: “What are these cries?
“Methinks to-day the dead in Egypt rise!”
One answered her: “He of auspicious name,
“The joy of Canaan's land, a slave there came.
“No slave is this, but lo! this shining sun
“In beauty's capital has fortune won.”¹⁸⁷
Zuleikha of her litter raised the screen:
She saw the slave and knew whom she had seen.
All undesired, a cry from her escaped,
A cry unconsciously her heart had shaped.
All haste the bearers of the litter made,
The litter to her private rooms conveyed.
Of her own house she the seclusion gained,
And sense from her unconscious state regained.
Her nurse said: “Lighter of my soul, say, why
“Thou from a burning heart didst raise a cry?
“And when thy sweet lip opened with the call,
“Why with its pain didst thou unconscious fall?”
She said: “O mother kind, what can I say?
“Whate'er I speak, there 's woe in every way.
“The slave in that assembly thou didst see,
“Whose praises Egypt's people sang to thee,
“In all the world my shrine of worship he,
“My soul for him, my love, an offering be!
“'Twas he whose face to me in dreams was shown,
“The patience of my soul was overthrown.
“Body and heart through him I fevered lie,
“And in a sea of blood is drowned my eye.
“In longing for him to this land I come,
“And make in his desire this town my home.
“Of my own family 'twas he bereft,
“And in this exile me has wretched left.
“In all my trouble thou hast seen for years,
“This world's peace broken for me through my tears,
“All this was in the hope his face to see,
“And longing for his gracious symmetry.
“More than a mountain's weight my load to-day;
“How will my matter end I cannot say.
“The royal hall of whom does my moon grace?
“The light of whose night-chamber is his face?
“Whose eye in brightness will through him unclose,
“Whose house becomes through him a bed of rose?
“Who from his sweet lips his desire may gain,
“Or find peace 'neath his cypress free from pain?
“Who of his scented hair may tie the bow,
“Or with his silver palm-tree union know?
“Who on his value all her gains would stake,
“Her eyes' collyrium of his dust who make?
“Through him shall my state benefit or not?
“This fortune shall my hand attain or not?”
When her nurse saw this fire and whence it came,
Sadly she wept, as candle in the flame.
She said: “O candle, this thy heat conceal,
“Nor thy day's grief, nor thy night's pain reveal.
“For long hast thou with patience borne the ill:
“Now hold the matter in thy patience still.
“Thou mayst with patience yet thy hope attain,
“And from dark clouds thy sun may shine again.”

THE COMING OF JOSEPH TO THE PLACE OF SALE, AND HIS PURCHASE BY ZULEIKHA AT DOUBLE PRICE.

The time how happy and the day how sweet,
When of their union lovers fruit may eat!
When friendship's bright lamp is again a light,
And pain of separation 's put to flight.
The market brisk had Joseph's beauty made;
Itself to buy him Egypt open laid.
With anything that any hand acquired,
In that bazaar to buy with all desired.
There an old crone, I heard, excited sped,
Bringing with her some yarn she'd spun, and said:
“Enough, though little there be in my hand,¹⁸⁸
“Among the purchasers to let me stand.”
The criers right and left now loudly cry:
“A slave without defect, come, who will buy?
“Like beauteous rising of the dawn his face;
“His lip a jewel from the mine of grace.
“His face with virtue's signs is full of light:
“His breast on bounty's nature based aright.
“Upon his tongue there's naught but what is straight;
“In twisted, crooked words he'll nothing state.”
One, from the midst of them the first to try,
For one bag of red gold proposed to buy.
If of that bag thou wouldst count the tale,
Of gold a thousand pieces would not fail.
While others, their steed's victory to boast,
A hundred bags laid on the winning post.¹⁸⁹
Another rich man then as much would pay
In fragrant musk as Joseph's self should weigh;—
Another wiser one, outbidding them,
With equal weight of ruby and of gem.
After this manner they bid and more
Of every kind of precious things a store.
Zuleikha, from whom this had not been hid,
Doubling their offers, all at once outbid.
Then they closed their lips, all those buyers there,
And sat them down on the knees of despair.
“Of counsel good,” to the Vazír she said:
“Let the full price to Málik now be weighed.”
He said to her: “All that there hidden lies,
“Musk, jewels, gold, my treasures that comprise,
“Even to half his price would not extend,
“How can I, then, the whole of it expend?”
A box of gems Zuleikha there possessed,
A constellation full of stars, no chest.¹⁹⁰
The price of every jewel in that store,
Equalled all Egypt's revenue or more.
She answered him: “These jewels for his price,
“Give jewels of my life, his sacrifice.”
The Vazír an excuse then made once more:
“The age's king tow'rds him a liking bore:
“That in his house one of such purity
“Head of the list of all his slaves should be.”
She said then: “Go thou to the conquering king,
“Before him all thy service rendered bring.
“Tell him: Of sorrows I have only one,
“That these my eyes may never see a son.
“Exalt me with this single grace, I pray,
“That this one slave may my commands obey;
“That in my constellation he may shine,
“Be the king's slave and as a son be mine.”
Thus at Zuleikha's word the Vazír came;
Before that lofty king he said the same.
The monarch heard the words and hearing weighed,
Nor did he turn from the request his head.
To purchase him at once he gave the leave,
And as a son to love him and receive.
Rejoicing homewards he then Joseph bore.
Zuleikha from her pain was freed once more,
And piercing pearls of joy with eyelash thread,
Weeping, her own two eyes she rubbed, and said:
“Am I awake, O God, or in a dream,
“That from my love my soul's desire should beam?
“When had I ever hope in that black night
“That in this way my day would e'er be white?
“Upon my night has followed azure day:
“My daily grief and pain have passed away.
“Now that my darling they with me unite,
“The heav'ns that I should now caress were right.
“In this sad world of pain who is like me?
“After decay who 's freshened up like me?
“I was a fish for water sore distressed,
“Writhing on sand, with water's grief oppressed
“Yet from the cloud of grace a flood at hand
“Safe to the river bore me from the sand.
“Lost in night's darkness I was straying round;
“In wandering my soul upon my lip I found.
“From the horizon rose a moon and shone,
“And to my street of fortune led me on.
“Upon death's couch I slumbering had lain,
“Death's lancet pricking of my life the vein;
“When sudden Khizar came in from the door,
“And did upon me his life's water pour.
“Thanks be to God that fortune proves my friend
“And Fate its troubling of my soul will end.
“A thousand lives for him an offering,
“Who to my market now such cash could bring!
“To break into my jewel-box what pain,
“Of fine gems when a mine my hand shall gain?
“Before a soul's cash what are gems to me?
“A friend's security, whate'er it be.
“I gave some lifeless things a soul to keep,
“And in God's name I bought them wondrous cheap.
“What profit does he gain for cash who sells
“Isá himself and picks up paltry shells?
“Although these paltry shells all I expend,
“I make a gain if Isá's still my friend.”
These secrets in her sieve of thought she strained,
Whilst from her eyes tears bright as jewels rained.
Silent, at times on Joseph turned her eye,
She yet was free of parting's misery.
Sometimes rememb'ring partings left behind,
With thoughts of union she rejoiced her mind.

THE STORY OF A GIRL BY NAME BAZIGHA, OF THE RACE OF THE ÁDIS, WHO IN SECRET BECAME ENAMOURED OF THE BEAUTY OF JOSEPH (ON WHOM BE PEACE!), AND IN BEHOLDING IN THAT MIRROR THE BEAUTY OF TRUTH PASSED FROM WHAT IS FEIGNED TO WHAT IS TRUE.

From sight alone will love not always rise:
'Twill come from speech sometimes, as well as eyes.
Through the ear's door will beauty entrance find;
It takes ease from the heart and sense from mind.
No need is there for procuress's art,
That she should tell her tale on beauty's part.
Though through the eye no influence may be,
Love sometimes finds its way in secretly.
There was a girl in Egypt's land, in grace
Who hold the lordship of the Adis' race.
Pearls¹⁹¹ from her ruby mouth put on a smile;
With sugar filled her laugh the land of Nile.
And from the sweetness that her smile possessed,
The cane's heart ev'n was with her chain oppressed.
When her sweet lips sweet smiles around her threw,
The cane between its teeth its finger drew.
At her mouth sugar's heart in narrow pass,
And sweets from envy on a stone as glass—
Should pleasure's sweets her saucy lip inflame,
Sweets in the bottle's heart a knot became.
Although the sweets gave to the bottle heart,
Against her lips it could not bear its part.
Wine-bibbers with that mouth could not contend:
In the defeat of brave men it would end.¹⁹²
That Huri-envied one the world brought strife;
Egypt her sweetness made with tumult rife.
The country's heads her favour all would seek,
The beauties of the town before her weak.
But as her crown in grandeur grazed the heaven,
Equality with her to none was given.
In honour, wealth, and in the pride of place,
Would she tow'rds no one ever turn her face.
When Joseph's tale and all his praise she heard,
Towards that moon-face all her love was stirred.
One on another as the rumours flew,
Her heart in his ideal firmer grew.
From hearing turned her mind to seeing round;
In hearing is the seed of seeing found.
She knew the price that should for him be paid,
Her heart its reck'ning for that payment made.
A thousand camels of high lineage foaled,
Laden with musk, brocade, and gems, and gold,
All kinds of precious things that she possessed,
To offer as his price which she deemed best.
To march on Egypt's road these all prepared,
Of everything her treasury she bared.
The rumour spread she came to Egypt nigh;
Itself in Egypt rose a fresher cry.
She came to Egypt following Joseph's way,
And made enquiries of where Joseph lay.
When news she had obtained of Joseph's place,
Gladly she thither turned her reins and face.
Beauty beyond the range of thought she saw,
A soul of earthly stains¹⁹³ without one flaw.
She never saw his like upon the earth,
Nor had she heard of one of equal birth.
She swooned, unconscious, at the sight away;
Out of her senses from delight she lay.
Back to her sense unconsciousness she brought.
Out of her careless dream she waking sought.
Loosing her tongue in questioning to speak,
Gems from that treasure store she 'gan to seek.
She said: “O thou whom only fitting actions grace,
“Who with such beauty has adorned thy face?
“Who threw the sun's bright ray upon thy brow,
“And of moon-clusters gleans the harvest now?
“Thy form has from what artist's brush been known?
“Thy cypress-fair what gardener has grown?
“Who with his compass thy arched eyebrow lined?
“Who did in graceful curls thy ringlets bind?
“Its water whence did thy moist rose derive?
“With it who made thee in the garden thrive?
“Who taught thy cypress fair its graceful gait?
“Whence learnt thy lips sweet stories to relate?
“Thy moon-face on their tablet who indite?
“The letter of thy locks what pen shall write?
“Who thy narcissus opened to day's beam,
“Of non-existence woke thee from the dream?
“Who thy pearl's casket locked with ruby key,
“That heart and soul of thine might strengthened be?
“And who that dimple in thy chin has made,
“In which life's water to the full is laid?
“Who with that amber mole thy cheek has graced?
“That raven who in that rose-garden placed?”
When Joseph in his ear had heard this word,
Out of his fountain sweet soul's food was poured:
“I am the Great Creator's work,” he cried;
“With one drop from His ocean satisfied.
“The heaven's but one dot from perfection's reed,
“The earth but one bud from His beauty's mead.
“The sun a spark out of His wisdom's light,
“The sphere a bubble from His sea of might.
“Pure is His beauty from all charge of sin,
“Of the invisible the screen within.
“Of the world's atoms He has mirrors made,
“Of His own face on each an image laid.
“Whate'er of good thou seest with thy eye,
“Look well; His own reflection there will lie.
“The image seen, haste to the source away;
“Feeble before the source the imaged ray.
“Forbid God from the source thou far remain;
“The image gone, thou wilt no light retain.
“In but short time the image will have passed;
“One cannot trust the rose's hue to last.
“Have to the original for life recourse,
“And seek faith only at the very source.
“To long for anything may pierce life's vein;
“Sometimes it is—at times 'twill not remain.”
In mysteries when Joseph thus replied,
Joseph's love's carpet, wise, she rolled aside.
“Thy praises hearing,” she to Joseph said,
“To long for thee in pain my heart was led.
“For thee of hoping I pursued the way,
“And on my foot my head in searching lay.
“I saw thy face and headlong there I fell,
“My thought to perish at thy feet as well.
“Of mysteries the pearls then didst thou string,
“And gavest me the sign of light's fair spring.
“With truth of my words hast thou split the hair,
“Nor wouldst thou me permit thy love to share.
“Thou from my face the veil of hope hast riv'n,
“From atoms to my sun the road hast given.
“Now that thy secret's door stands wide to me,
“It were deceit to bandy love with thee.
“Now that truth's way is clear before my eye,
“From longing that 's profane 'twere best to fly.
“May God reward thee that my eye is clear,
“That to the Soul of souls thou bring'st me near.
“From all strange love hast thou withdrawn my heart,
“For holy union set my house apart.
“If every hair of mine a tongue became,
“Thy tale should every one of them declaim.
“Thy pearls of gratitude I cannot string,
“Nor e'er a hair's point of thy praises sing.”
Then bidding him farewell she went away;
Free of desire, she would no longer stay.
Then after she in haste had left him there,
Upon Nile's bank she built a house of prayer.
From rule and from the world and riches freed,
She patronised all such as were in need:
Through these her wealth and kingdom went to waste;
At night there was not left enough to taste.
No crown had she that jewels bright adorn;
Contented with a makna¹⁹⁴ old and torn,
A golden fillet she no more would bind,
But woollen stockings round her head would wind.
She freed herself from silk and from brocade;
Of felt a garment for herself she made.
As bracelet on her wrist with jewels gay,
As rosary she counted beads of clay,
And in the corner of that praying place
Turned from the world towards that shrine her face.
A sheet of ashes from the furnace brought,
In place of ermine she for bedding sought;
Under her head for pillow laid a stone,
And at her pain the earth would even moan.
Thus in that house of prayer she passed her days,
And firm she made her feet in prayer and praise.
In service when her life was thus complete,
She like a hero joyed her death to meet.
Oh! think not that she gave her life in vain,
To die, her loved one's face seen, was no pain.
Learn, heart, from her a hero's part to take,
And as she mourned thy sorrow true to make.
Swallow the grief, hast thou no cause to groan;
And make thee mourning if thou hast no moan.
Vain show in worshipping thy life has passed;
Thou thoughtest aye of things that do not last.
Each moment outward beauty knows decay,
All things revolving change from day to day.
On other stones place ever not thy feet,
Nor constant change from branch to branch thy seat.
Above the universe aye take thy rest;
Beyond the dome of spirit make thy rest.
There are a thousand forms, but spirit one:
Those who on outward forms count ever shun.
There is in numbers ever misery;
Thy stronghold ever make in unity.
Canst thou not bear the onset of thy foe,
'Twere best thyself safe in a fort to know.

THE PREPARATION BY ZULEIKHA OF THINGS FOR THE EASE OF JOSEPH AND HER PERFORMING SERVICES FOR HIM.

When fortune to Zuleikha's net was given,
In her own name was money coined by heaven.
Thenceforward to all earthly longings blind,
Did she her loins in Joseph's service bind.
Gold 'broidered robes of beaver and brocade,
According to his stature fair she made.
Waist-belts of gold, with gold-wrought diadems,
Each one of them adorned with glittering gems.
Three hundred, sixty, as a year of days,
Prepared, her finished task aside she lays.
And every morning, as new broke the day,
A robe of honour on his shoulders lay.
The Eastern lord put on his crown each morn,
With a new crown she would his head adorn.
When the fair cypress raised its head each day,
She in new fashion would his waist array.
His face, that ever heart-deceiving sun,
From the same collar never two days shone.
Nor twice that cypress from the garden fair
Would the same coronet of beauty wear.
Ne'er, like the cane, that sugar lip would find
By the same belt its slender waist confined.
When with gold crown his forehead she would dress,
A thousand kisses on his head she'd press.
And say: “My crown may dust be from thy feet,
“To rise to lordship's heights a ladder meet!”
And when upon his form she drew the vest,
In secret she the garment thus addressed:
“Thine and my body, may they one thread be,
“And from that form may I eat fruit like thee!”
When she placed the coat on that cypress' height,
She addressed it thus, as she pulled it tight:
“I hope from that cypress of rosy face,
“Him may I hold, like thee, in tight embrace.”
When round his waist she made the girdle fast,
Upon her tongue this longing floated past:
“If my hand were that belt, how would it be?
“If union I enjoyed how would it be?”
When she his curling locks with combs would part,
She found a healing for her maddened heart.
Of amber pure she would a net prepare,
Her own soul captive in that amber snare.
To eat at morn and in the eve again,
In her own chamber she would him retain;
Tables of various hues would she prepare,
Adorned with varied kinds of viands rare.
Candy and almonds for him sweets to get,
To his own lip and taste she went in debt.
By way of fruit of every kind and hue
The model of his silver chin she drew.
Into roast meat the breasts of fowls were made,
And like her own heart there sometimes were laid.
Then like his juicy mouth would she prepare
Conserves especial and of flavour rare.
Drinks would she make of sugar fine and new,
And water turned to candy at the view.
And to whatever thing he was inclined,
That would she, as for life, that instant find.
At night when thought of sleep he entertained,
Faint at his day's labour she herself remained;
A heart-enchanting coverlet she spread,
And made of silk and of brocade his bed.
Of rose she made a bed for his repose,
Jess'mine or tulip pillow for his rose.
She told him tales and stories ere he slept,
Dust from his mind by telling tales she swept.
Then when the veil of slumber closed his eye,
In fever with the candle would she vie.
Her two enraptured deer¹⁹⁵ until the dawn
That moon grazed of his beauty on the lawn.
At times the secret of his eye she knew,
Or of his mouth at times the breath she drew.
A tulip from the bed now would she take,
A purchase from his rose-bed now would make.
With his sweet fount at times her lip would play,
At him around his chin like dewlap stray.
Sometimes conversing gently with his hair,
At times his rosebud's secret she would share.
“Now from my eyes I tears of blood could weep,
“That such a Div should with a Pari sleep!”
Thus speaking the back of her hand she'd bite,
And pass the night, dark as her locks, till light.
Days passed into nights: her trouble the same,
No quiet or rest to her ever there came.
She soothed his grief and to him comfort gave,
And, though his mistress, was indeed his slave.
Yes: a lover will sell his soul indeed,
The loved one will serve with his soul at need.
Out of her path thorns with his eyelash put,
Although his eye should suffer from her foot,
With his soul's eye he waits on her intent,
In hope her heart towards him may relent.

THE SETTING FORTH BY JOSEPH OF THE STORY OF THE PAIN OF HIS JOURNEY, AND THE TROUBLE OF THE WELL, AND THE BECOMING AWARE BY ZULEIKHA THAT THE SORROW SHE HAD HAD THAT DAY HAD ARISEN FROM IT.

And now the orator in language meet
With the tale proceeds of his stories sweet,—
That ere she met with Joseph, on a day
Strange pain and burning on Zuleikha lay.
Patience of heart and rest for body none,
Care for the end, too, from her soul had gone.
At home no business would she undertake
Herself, nor to a stranger pleasant make.
Water on eyelash, with heart full of woe,
Both in and out she never ceased to go.
Her nurse, on whom the star of fortune shone,
Said to her: “Moon, thou shadow of the sun,
“May heaven's cruelty not injure thee;
“From Fate's unjust disturbance be thou free!
“I know not what to-day thy state may be:
“For drowned thy soul seems in misfortune's sea.
“Thou art that leaf which every wind that blows
“Turns round, and settled no one knows.
“It falls upon its back or on its face,
“In this or that direction takes its place.
“In one abode it does not rest at ease,
“But to turn round has no desire to please.
“Say, of this restlessness who is the cause,
“All this fresh trouble who upon thee draws?”
She said: “Bewildered all am I to-day—
“In my own business, too, have gone astray.
“I have a sorrow, but I do not know
“Whence springs up in my soul this source of woe.
“Yet, secretly, it robs me of my rest;
“My days are with its cruelty oppressed.
“I am the earth that self-contented lies
“Until the stormy whirlwinds wake and rise.
“In its own being though it movement knows,
“It knows the tempest not, nor whence it blows.”
When Joseph to Zuleikha nearer drew,
Their intimacy each day closer grew.
One night to her his secret to disclose,
He told her all his grief and all his woes.
In converse intimate his tongue would tell
The story of the journey and the well.
When of the well the tale Zuleikha learned,
Like twisting rope round on herself she turned,
And knew within her heart 'twas on that day
Her soul to burning grief had been a prey.
The day and month when she to reckoning brought,
She was assured it happened as she thought.
Now every heart that is watchful can say,
From heart to heart there is ever a way.
From the rent heart of lovers, it is sure,
Whose faith to their loved one is clear and pure,
From every rent a road opens wide,
To carry their sight to their loved one's side,—
And of their loved one's state this road a ray
To their weak souls and bodies will convey.
Thus if the loved one's foot should pierce a thorn,
The lover's soul will be with anguish torn.
On the belovèd's locks each breeze that blows
Wafts to the lover's heart a hundred woes.
If on her cheek a speck of dust descend,
Her lover's back beneath the load will bend,
One day a lancet, I have heard¹⁹⁶, indeed,
In her hand Leila took herself to bleed:
To bleed when Leila pricked herself in Hai,
Bled in the vale Majnun's hand by-and-bye.
Come, Jámi, from thy very being shrink,
Nor of thy own existence ever think.
'Tis His¹⁹⁷, if thou hast honour and repute;
And scent and colour, these are His, to boot.
Away let thy own love and hatred pass;
And of thy own reflection cleanse thy glass.
Let beauty from the unseen be thy light;
And shine like Moses, from thy bosom bright!
Clear in thy heart's eye if that light abide,
From thee thy darling's secret 'twill not hide.

THE DESIRING BY JOSEPH OF THE OFFICE OF A SHEPHERD FOR THE REASON THAT THERE HAD BEEN NO PROPHET WHO HAD NOT PERFORMED A SHEPHERD'S OFFICE.

Happy the hopeless one allowed by Fate
On his belovèd, wandering round, to wait!
To his own wish he is no longer thrall,
But to her wishes he surrenders all.
'Tis on his lip if she his life desire;
Her dust he'll kiss and will himself expire.
Should she desire his heart, by grief oppressed
He through his eyes pours out blood from his breast,
And in her service honoured to be led,
When she says “Rise,” he makes her foot his head.
Driven, like pen, he will not turn his look,
And called he twists his face not like a book.
Of all enlightened people in the view
Sheepfolding is to prophet suited, too.
Joseph, as many rulers of his kind,
To fill a shepherd's office had a mind;
And when Zuleikha heard of Joseph's will,
She turned her reins that longing to fulfil.
First from art-masters did she this demand,
That they should make a sling for Joseph's hand.
Like sun with gold adorned its rope they rove,
And like to amber-scented ringlets wove.
Rose in Zuleikha's mind the wish again,
To be as hair entangled in the strain.
“To him without some cause myself I cannot bind:
“And thus to kiss his hand occasion I may find.”
“Oh! how would I desire,” again she said,
“To bind him by one hair from off my head!”
Jewels upon it then she fastened round,
Like the pearls and gems on her eyelash found:
A ruby if she found of beauteous hue,
This like a worthless stone on it she threw.
Then did she give the shepherds her command,
In hills and deserts grazing flocks at hand,
That they should from those flocks some lambs provide,
And those without an equal set aside,
Like Tartar deer on hyacinths that grazed,
In whom alarm a wolf had never raised.
In armour clad of wool like black men's hair,
In colour than fine silk more fresh and fair.
In fatness were their tails of equal weight,
The lambs through weightiness of graceful gait,
In every valley where they grazing stood,
It was as waves of butter in a flood.
The wind upon the waves' face¹⁹⁸ in its pride
To making watery chains itself applied.
Among these flocks did Joseph hastening go,
In Aries' sign as is the sun aglow.
Like the musk antelopes that lonely stray,
He to those flocks of sheep went on his way.
Zuleikha all her sense and heart and care
Sent, like a tailed dog, with the shepherd there.
And other guardians, too, did she provide
To watch lest him some evil should betide.
Thus as it pleased him he proceeded still,
And uncontrolled by any other's will.
At will a shepherd in the desert he,
Or of her soul's realm might the monarch be.
That fairy-born one in his purity
From kingship both and shepherdhood was free.

THE DEMANDING BY ZULEIKHA OF UNION WITH JOSEPH, AND JOSEPH'S INDEPENDENCE.

When a fair form is stamped in any breast,
He in his business never can have rest.
The cash of union if he cannot find,
He on love's credit gambles in his mind.
When from his heart the thing goes to his eyes,
Blood trickles from his heart that bleeding lies.
When profit gains his tearful eye from this,
He falls to thinking of embrace and kiss.
Should he to kiss and to embrace attain,
In fear of parting he has constant pain.
In love there is of happiness no hope;
For purity of life there is no scope.
In drinking blood it aye begins alone:
And at the last comes death when this is done.
In ease when can the heart of him rejoice,
Of eating blood or death who has the choice?
Ere Joseph came before Zuleikha's eye,
In dream or fancy she could blissful lie.
Only to see his form could she aspire;
To seek and find him was her sole desire.
But when she saw him and that profit knew,
Her longing then for something higher grew.
After long search 'twas this she longed for in the end,
That that hope with a fond embrace might blend,
With kisses from his lips she might be blessed,
And in his cypress bosom find her rest.
The eye when of a grove a sight it gains
For roses' love it bears, like tulip, stains.
At first to see the rose it is content,
From sight on plucking it the hand is bent.
Zuleikha every plan for union tried,
Though Joseph from her ever stood aside.
Zuleikha tears of blood pours from her eyes,
Whilst Joseph ever from before her flies.
Zuleikha's heart was scarred with misery,
But from her fancy Joseph yet was free.
On his fair face Zuleikha's cheek would lie,
Turned tow'rds his foot was ever Joseph's eye.
Zuleikha's heart with every glance would burn,
Whilst Joseph from her look his eye would turn.
For fear of strife on her he would not look,
Nor would his eye her glance of passion brook.
The lover keeps that form not in his sight,
When eye to eye he cannot see its light.
He can not ever weep and heave the sigh,
His love to see who hopes not by-and-bye,—
When of her lover's state she will not know,
That from her lover's heart his blood should flow.
When to Zuleikha this grief found its way,
She in brief time in grievous ruin lay.
And in the autumn when it trouble knew,
Her red rose took the yellow tulip's hue.
Upon her heart there stood a heavy load of woe;
With sorrow bent her cypress like a bow.
From her red lips the lustre passed away,
And of her cheek the light extinguished lay.
She never combed her amber-scented hair,
But that her hand it from its roots would tear.
Towards her mirror she scarce turned her face,
But ever on her knees her cheek would place.
From the fresh blood that from her heart would bleed,
Her cheek of pigment never had a need.
The world was to her eye all dark and drear,
Then how should “surmá” on that eye appear?
“Surmá” to dye her eyes would she not lay,
Tears from her eyes would wash the stain away.
And when Zuleikha's heart with grief was sore,
Reproaches on herself her tongue would pour.
“O thou on thy affairs who shame hast brought,
“By longing for a slave that gold has bought,
“A king upon a throne him far above,
“Why thy own slave dost thou thus stoop to love?
“Seek for a lover like thyself in state,
“For monarchs only should with monarchs mate.
“Than all strange things there is one stranger still,
“That to thy union he bends not his will.
“Thy state if Egypt's women were to know,
“On thee reproofs a hundred would they throw.
“Their tongue in cursing would be loosed full soon
“A thing to point at as the crescent moon.”
Yet that unequalled one, though thus she'd say,
Dwelt not within her heart in such a way
That she could drive him from her heart at will;
And with this tale increased her sorrow still.
A lover's soul once knit with lover fond,
That soul can never then unloose the bond.
Of soul with body you may loose the tie,
But ever firm remains their unity.
How well said he, love's anguish whom had rent:
“Its hue the rose may lose, and musk its scent,
“But that a lover from his love should shrink,
“That were a thing impossible to think.”

THE QUESTIONING OF ZULEIKHA BY HER NURSE AS TO THE REASON OF HER MELTING AWAY AT THE SIGHT OF THE CANDLE OF JOSEPH'S BEAUTY.

Zuleikha when her nurse saw on this wise,
She asked, while tears were pouring from her eyes:
“O thou from seeing whom my eye has light,
“From whose cheek's image my heart's rose-bed's bright,
“Thy heart is full of pain, thy soul of woe:
“What thy condition is I may not know.
“Ever before thee thus thy soul's desire,
“Why without rest art ever thus on fire?
“What time from thee he still was far away,
“Thou wert excused when thy heart burning lay,
“But since to union with thee near he came,
“Burns thy soul's candle why with such a flame?
“What lover ever with such favour 's graced
“That as slave near him his own love is placed?
“Propitious omen to thee Fortune gave,
“That to thee came thy Sultan as a slave.
“A moon to royal crown that might aspire
“Is in thy hand: what more dost thou require?
“Before his face be happy, glad of heart,
“And let all sorrows of the world depart.
“His cypress tulip-hued thy longing make,
“And in his graceful gait thy comfort take.
“Look on his lip; nourish with him thy soul,
“And hope's pure water drink thou from his bowl.”
When from her nurse Zuleikha heard this thing,
She made her heart's blood of her tears the spring.
From her eye's cloud her heart's blood then was shed,
And her sad story thus it was she said.
Said: “Thou who e'er art as my mother kind,
“Thee skilled in secret things do I not find.
“Dost thou not know what of my heart 's the care,
“From this world's life what I may have to bear?
“He stands to serve before my face, 'tis true,
“But no true service will he ever do.
“Though distant from me he may ne'er remain,
“To look upon me yet he will not deign.
“One should with weeping of the thirsty think,
“On whose lip 's water that they can not drink.
“Like beauty's torch although my face should shine,
“His eyes towards his feet will aye incline.
“'Tis not for this that he my blame should bear,
“His instep than my face is far more fair.
“When him I look on with world-seeing eye,
“Upon his forehead fair a frown will lie.
“Yet for that frown I can not blame him long,
“For what there comes from him can not be wrong.
“His eyebrow in my heart such knots has bound,
“That knotless my affairs are never found.
“Such heavy knots in my affairs it ties,
“I can not gaze upon him with my eyes.
“From speaking to me when his mouth refrains,
“But to drink blood what then for me remains?
“My mouth if from that red lip water flood,
“The water in my eye is turned to blood.
“His form, the plant where all my hope would be,
“But seldom casts a kindly look on me.
“I hope to pluck an apple from that tree;
“The apple brings a hundred woes on me.
“If from his chin's well I should seek relief,
“My place of ease he turns to well of grief.
“That sleeve I ever envy in my breast,
“That it with fraud upon his arm should rest.
“As for his skirt, I hide my torn soul in my breast
“That at his feet before him it in dust should rest.”
And when the nurse had heard these words, she wept
That in such ease she yet alive was kept.
By fate such absence as may be enforced
Union excels whence sweetness is divorced.
The pains of parting are but heavy blows,
And such a union brings two hundred woes.

THE SENDING OF HER NURSE BY ZULEIKHA TO JOSEPH IN SEARCH OF HER OBJECT, AND HIS REJECTION OF IT.

Zuleikha in her grief reliance laid
Upon her nurse's pity and her aid.
She said: “A hundred times thy help I own,
“Who to my wishes hast devotion shown.
“Now once again do thou thy aid bestow;
“Once more of sorrow ward thou off the blow.¹⁹⁹
“On my head's part take thou to him thy way,
“And thus to him, as my tongue acting, say.
“Say: O thou plant that hast been reared in grace,
“On roses casting sweetness from thy face,
“From beauty's garden, bed of luxury,
“No lofty cypress ever grew like thee.
“Water they mixed from soul and heart with clay,
“Planting therein from Sidrah's branch a spray,
“Did it of loftiness the leaf unfold,
“To call it graceful cypress they were bold.
“Thee when the bride of Time bore on the earth,
“Was never born a son of purer birth.
“Bright at thy birth the eye of Adam seen,
“At thy fair face, of earth the rosebud green.
“Thy perfect form beyond all mortal bound,
“From it no gain has ever Pari found.
“Were not abashed at thee the Pari's pride,
“She would before thee not in corners hide.
“Though angels dwell above in golden sphere,
“Yet are their heads in dust before thee here.
“Since thy foundation heaven has raised so high,
“On thy poor captive let thy shadow lie.
“For though Zuleikha so enchanting be,
“She is a captive in thy noose to thee.
“From childhood is thy scar upon her breast;—
“From thy desire that old grief has no rest.
“Three times at home in dreams did she thee meet,
“And now her life consumes at fever heat.
“At times in chains as water fastened tight,
“At times as breezes wandering at night.
“From longing for thee, as a hair she 's thin;—
“But she—she has no wish her heart within.
“The cash of her life has she lost for thee:
“'Tis sweet to be kind: have pity on me.
“Thy lip is of life's water pure the fount:
“To shed a drop on her what would it count?
“Grant from thy lip she her desire may gain:
“May be that this may ease her of her pain.
“Of stature to bear fruit thou art a tree:
“If she should eat that fruit, how would it be?
“Where she may lay her head advance thy foot,
“That from thy palm-tree she may gather fruit.
“How would thy royal dignity become the less
“If with a single glance thou her wilt bless?
“Before thy handmaids, too, in serving thee,
“Who art so dear, would she a handmaid be.”
When from the nurse he heard this, by-and-bye
Joseph his gem-lips opened in reply—
He said: “O thou who secrets knowest well,²⁰⁰
“Weave not around me to deceive thy spell.
“Bought with Zuleikha's gold, I am her slave,
“To me who many and many a favour gave.
“Of clay and water she this building made,
“And on her faith my heart and soul are laid.
“Her favour to requite though life I spend,
“My gratitude to her would yet not end.
“I lay my head on line of her command,
“And in her service ever will I stand.
“Yet bid her not of me thus e'er to think,
“That I shall from my God's commandment shrink—
“From lust's bad counsels that are born of sin,
“To evil's straits that I should enter in.
“As his son I, so the Vazír has said,
“And of his household reckons me the head.
“On grain and water fed, his bird am I:
“How in his house can I act wickedly?
“By the pure God in every nature sown
“Are some peculiar habits of its own.²⁰¹
“He of pure nature ever does what 's good,—
“Adulterer he is who is base of brood.
“Not dogs of man or man of dogs is born,
“Not from wheat barley, nor from barley corn.
“My breast bears the secret of Israel,
“And I have the wisdom of Gabriel.
“To wear a prophet's mantle am I fit;
“'Tis Isaac's grace I have to thank for it.
“A mystery-enshrouding rose I am,
“In the rose-garden reared of Abraham.
“And God forbid that I a deed approve
“Me from that family that might remove.
“Go; bid Zuleikha now the wish refuse,
“And her own spirit both and me excuse,
“For in the pure God aye I hope to be
“Chaste, and from all lustful feeling free.”

THE GOING OF ZULEIKHA TO JOSEPH AND HUMBLING HERSELF, AND MAKING EXCUSE TO JOSEPH FOR THE FULFILMENT OF HER OBJECT.

These words the nurse then to Zuleikha said
And she was as the wild hair on her head.
Poured on her cheek her eye-lash her heart's blood,
And her black almonds shed the jujube's flood.
With graceful gait, then, that tall cypress sped,
And threw its shadow on her darling's head,
And said: “Dust at thy feet may my head be,
“And of thy air my heart be never free!
“Void of thy love have I no single hair,
“And of my own hair am I unaware.
“Within myself as soul thy image lies,
“And round my neck thy noose the collar ties.
“Have I a soul? it breathes thy sorrow's air;
“A body? thou dost bring it to despair²⁰².
“What of the state of my heart shall I say?
“Of thy blood-shedding eye it is a spray.
“Deep in the sea of thy love do I drown:
“Immersed in it am I from foot to crown.
“From every vein of mine the bleeder scores,
“Longing for thee, and not my blood, there pours.”
When Joseph heard these words, tears filled his eyes.
“Wherefore this weeping?” then Zuleikha cries.
“Thou art my eye. How can I sit and smile,
“That eye when I see weeping all the while?
“When from thy eye-lash drops of water flow,
“My very soul like fire must be a-glow.
“This of thy beauty's wonders one I know;
“Fire on my soul dost thou with water throw.”
When Joseph heard from her these grievous cries,
Pearls from his lip he shed, as from his eyes.
Weeping, he said: “My heart is aye distressed,
“That no one's love for me is ever blessed.
“On my love's road when first my aunt there came,
“She as a thief's spread in the world my name.
“When my sire's love my brothers greater knew,
“Within their souls the plant of hatred grew.
“Far from my father's side did they me send,
“An exile's days in Egypt's land to end.
“My heart must in this bosom constant bleed,
“Till it see further where thy love may lead.
“For jealous indeed is the lord of love,
“No partner in love's realm can he approve.
“And neither first nor last will he permit
“Another in the same high place to sit,
“Like the tall cypress in its beauty sweet
“That low the shadow casts down at its feet.
“When beauty fair ones' moonlight cheeks illumes,
“The flash of jealousy their sheaves consumes.
“When the sun reaches of the heavens the crown,
“At once towards the West he hurries down.
“When the full moon its form of brilliance gains,
“Seized on by sorrow it in anguish wanes.”
“My eye and lamp,” Zuleikha then replied:
“Enough of brilliance does thy moon provide.
“I do not say that I am dear to thee:
“A handmaid of thy handmaids would I be.
“Oh! of thy handmaid that thou wouldst be fond,
“Of slavery wouldst free her from the bond!
“I am thy handmaid lower than the rest,
“With but a longing heart and burning breast.
“Thee dearer than my life do I not know?
“Why shouldst thou look upon me as a foe?
“None wretched in his life desires to be,
“Nor wishes for his soul calamity.
“My heart is cleft of thy love by the blade:
“Thus of my hatred why art thou afraid?
“Be sweet and from thy lip my wishes grant:
“Subdued awhile, ease in my soul implant.
“Go but one step upon the road with me:
“Behold what love I ever bear to thee.”
“My lady mistress,” Joseph answer found:
“A slave before thee I with bonds am bound.
“Beyond thy service nothing in my hand,
“My duty lies in hearing thy command.
“From thy slave rulership forbear to claim:
“With all this favour bring me not to shame.
“Who am I for thy friendship to be fit,
“That at the Vazír's table I should sit?
“A king that slave would rightly grind to dust,
“Who in the salt with him his hand should thrust.
“'Twere best in any way to busy me,
“That all my days I may devote to thee.
“And in thy service should I ever fail,
“In work a hundredfold I'd make its tale.
“By service only do become slaves free,
“Gladdened with patent of their liberty.
“By faithful service are their hearts made glad,
“Freedom he gains not whose work aye is bad.”
Zuleikha answered: “O propitious star,
“Than slaves before thee I am lower far.
“For every service I of thee require
“A hundred workmen will at once aspire.
“How well 'twould be were I to pass them by,
“And on the work should only thee employ!
“The foot is useful but to tread the earth,
“And 'tis not with the eye of equal worth.
“If on thy foot's path where thou thorns mayst see,
“Thou place thine eye, they'll surely injure thee.”
Then Joseph, when he heard these words, replied:
“Thy heart and soul are with my love allied.
“If thy love pure as morning breezes be,
“On hope's horizon only breath for me
“Since my desire is only thee to serve,
“Strive not against me, nor from friendship swerve,
“For he whose heart is captive to his friend,
“Will further his desire e'en to the end.
“With his own will he sports his friends to meet,
“And his own will he treads beneath his feet.”
Joseph these words for this before her laid,
That he her company might thus evade,
For in her company was fear of ill,
And at a distance he might serve her still.
When fire against it may itself array,
Well for that cotton that can fly away.

THE SENDING OF JOSEPH BY ZULEIKHA TO A GARDEN, AND THE PREPARATION OF ITS APPARATUS.

He of this tale who decks the flowering meads
Thus with the tale of ancient men proceeds.
When with his lips of sugar Joseph spread
This sugar fresh around Zuleikha's head,
Zuleikha had a garden fair, a mead
With envy that caused Iram's²⁰³ heart to bleed.
A wall of mud and water²⁰⁴ this surrounds:
The bright red rose²⁰⁴ on every side abounds.
Branch within branch the trees there interlace,
In modest boldness, though in close embrace.
Its planes, their foot upon the cypress' skirt,
Like necklace round its neck their arms are girt.
The rose upon its bud as litter laid,
Pomegranates making overhead a shade,
On a wide plain the orange-bushes stand,
Their branch the mace, the orange ball in hand,
And in that plain so free from every ill,
The ball of grace they bear away at will.
In beauteous height the palm-tree bears the date,
And to the garden gives its high estate.
Of sweets a harvest every bunch is there
Provision for the sad at heart to share.
Figs and pomegranates there like nurses stand,
For the mead's children juice as milk in hand,
Each bird the fig's juice that might wish to sip,
Opened just as a sucking child its lip.
The sun's bright light, although at midday seen,
Lit with gold rays the latticed green,
And blending with each other sun and shade
With musk and gold was the plain overlaid,
Whilst in the dark the moving sparks of light
Were as rose cymbals with gold bells bedight.
The nightingale from those bells drew its note,
And opened in that azure vault its throat.
A thousand fish there in the willows' shade
With the wind sporting in the rivers played.
Of good and bad the garden clean to keep
The shadows of the trees like besoms sweep.
On the ground green lines as on teacher's board,
The stream had its margin with silver scored,
And the sagacious, on that tablet scored,
Might read the secrets of Creation's Lord.
The red rose as the gently-nurtured fair:
The yellow rose of lovers as the air.
The breezes twist in wreaths the violet,
And knots of spikenard loosed in freedom set.
The jessamine, tulip and sweet herbs embrace,
And as with silk is decked of earth the face.
In that abode of Huris there they placed
Two fountains, clear as glass with marble graced.
These like each other as a pair of eyes,
One with the other in its clearness vies.
No wound of a pickaxe on these is seen,
And never a scratch from a chisel been.
Should his thought thereto the wise man apply,
Neither joint nor crack would there meet his eye.
And all who behold in their minds took thought
That without a joint were the fountains wrought.
Zuleikha, her heart's sorrow to allay,
When to that garden she would make her way,
One of the fountains full of milk was stored,
And in the other tasty honey poured—
There of that heaven-cradled moon each maid
With milk her hunger or with honey stayed.
Between the fountains there was raised a seat,
For one fate-favoured, like to Joseph, meet.
Thus to his company she bade farewell,
And in the garden bade him work and dwell.
The garden's bird told this tale to the flow'r:
“The gardener fair, and more fair is the bow'r,
“As Eden's hall should mead and rosebed be,
“Gardeners should Rizván and the Huris be.”
A hundred jess'mine-breasted handmaids stood,
All virgins pure and all of purest mood.
As graceful cypresses they waited all,
Ever in service ready at his call.
“May my head,” she told him, “thy footstool be!
“To delight in these is lawful for thee.
“If I to thee am forbidden, alas!
“(Oh! bitter for me should this come to pass!)
“Of these go to her whom thou mayst desire,
“To her to whose union thou mayst aspire;
“Fulfil thou thy desire with her, for this
“The day of youth is the time of bliss.”
Then many commands on her maids she laid:
“Beware, oh! beware now, each sweet-lipped maid,
“In Joseph's service strive with heart and soul:
“If poison come, drink from his hand the bowl—
“Where'er he calls you, go ye there with speed:
“Indulge him with your lives, should there be need.
“Whate'er he order, be ye happy still,
“In every way obedient to his will.
“In gaining him whoe'er may lucky be,
“Let her at once the news impart to me.”
As one impatient, one might say she drew
On her hope's tablet a deceitful view.
Whichever of the band he might approve,
At sleeping time she would towards him move,
Herself there in her place would substitute,
And of his pleasant plant would eat the fruit:
Beneath that beauteous palm-tree would she lie,
And eat its dates, though she ate secretly.
As Joseph there she placed upon his seat,
Her heart and soul she offered at his feet.
The maids before him she placed standing there,
And made them bow before that cypress fair.
Her heart and soul before her friend there lay:
Her body tow'rds her own camp took its way.
Happy the lover who content at heart
From the beloved will at her word depart;
Who when his absence good is in her eyes,
In parting will all patience exercise.
To union when one's love will not agree,
Absence than presence will far sweeter be.

THE DISPLAYING OF THEIR BEAUTY TO JOSEPH BY THE HANDMAIDS.

When like a new bride sporting in delight
Its dark rose-shedding hair spread out the night,
It placed the Pleiads' cluster in its ear,
And took in hand the moon, its mirror clear.
Repeating tales, in cloak of grace arrayed,
With air coquettish stood there every maid.
Breathing of love's enchantment tales, each one
Clustered in ordered rows round Joseph's throne.
First from her own sweet lips one sugar shed,
“Thy palate with my sugar fill,” she said,
“From my sweet little mouth the knots unslip:
“Eat, like a parrot, the sweets from my lip.”
One said, with a roguish glance from her eye:
“O thou whose praise expression would defy,
“In my world-seeing eye thy home I make;
“In my eye's pupil, come, thy station take.”
One showed her cypress form in silken grace,
And said: “To-night this cypress form embrace.
“Where wilt thou sleep in joy's cradle at rest,
“If this fair cypress lie not in thy breast?”
With musky ringlets one a noose would tie:
“A mere ring without head or foot am I.
“Open the door and me to union bring:
“Outside that door nor place me like a ring.”
Then one lifted up her delicate hand,
And above her arm let her loose sleeve stand.
“From thy beauty to ward the evil-eye,
“This hand on thy neck as amulet lie!”
One of a hair made a belt round her waist,
An ornament of hair around her placed:
“As girdle place thy hand my waist around;
“My soul through thee upon my lip is found.”
After this way of those moon-faced ones each
Joseph for union with him would beseech.
Since he of beauty was a garden fair.
For such grass-handfuls he could never care.
Full of deceit and malice were they all,
In figure idols, who on idols call.
And Joseph had this thought alone in view,
To lead them to a service that was true.
All that he told them in the way of faith
Was to shake doubt, of heavenly truths the breath.
First, then, he said: “O maids of beauteous birth,
“Dear in the sight of every man on earth,
“Thus honoured, follow no path that is base;
“Look of religion only on the face.
“Beyond this world we have our God alone,
“The way to way-lost sinners Who has shown.
“He mixed our clay with His own mercy's dew,
“His wisdom planted there the grain that grew,
“That a fair plant might spring up from that grain,
“And in this mead perfection might attain.
“It draws itself aloft from lowly root,
“And of God's worship yields alone the fruit.
“To God alone be hands of worship raised,
“For He alone is worthy to be praised.
“Come and henceforward bow before His face;
“In every place without Him are we base:
“In adoration low our head be laid:
“The head was only for His worship made.
“And why to anyone should bow the wise,
“When head and foot are equal in God's eyes?
“With their own hands they carve a god of stone,
“And for its love in sorrowing heart they moan.
“What through a stone can happen, only know
“That from such worship but disgrace can flow.”
From the first of night until morning broke,
This counsel to the careless, Joseph spoke.
Her lip then opens each in Joseph's praise,
Her head at his feet in obedience lays.
Each he confirms with testimony sure,
All mouths are sweetened with that honey pure.
Blessed be that honey on the finger tip
That bitterness expels for those that sip.
With finger wound of testimony sure,
Alone will blind become the Div impure.
And from the evil eye escapes the wise,
With martyr's finger who roots out his eyes.
Zuleikha had awoke at dawn of day,
And towards Joseph made her gladsome way.
Round about Joseph there she saw a crowd,
To his instruction who as pupils bowed:
Their idols broken and their zones²⁰⁵ were rent;
In telling beads towards true faith they leant.
Upon their tongues of Unity the sound,
And in His service with waists newly bound.
She said to Joseph: “Thou from head to foot
“Disturbest hearts, that giv'st fair peace to boot,
“To-day another beauty on thy face,
“Thou from some other place hast greater grace.
“How does the night fresh beauty thee provide?
“Of goodness what new door has opened wide?
“What didst thou eat at night to give thee grace?
“Above earth's fair ones what has raised thy place?
“Perchance their company whom thou dost seek,
“These of the silver lips and jessamine cheek,
“An increase to thy comeliness have earned,
“And have thy beauty to perfection turned.
“For as from one fruit other fruit takes hue,
“So fair from fair ones gain a beauty new.”
Though with that bud-like lip thus much she spoke,
No fairer bloom could yet her words evoke.
His mouth to all speech he had closed up tight,
But shame gave to his cheek a rosy light.
In modesty his head he would not raise,
But fixed upon his instep aye his gaze.
Zuleikha saw that he his head withdrew,
Nor on her ever glance of pity threw.
Thus in her soul was lit the fire of care,
Her breast was scarred with the scar of despair.
Thus hopeless, she bade to her life adieu,
And back to her chamber of sorrow flew.

THE HUMILIATION OF ZULEIKHA BEFORE HER NURSE, AND HER PLOTTING FOR UNION WITH JOSEPH.

By Joseph's longing slain, when to her sense
Beyond all bounds passed his indifference,
Secret one night she called her nurse apart,
And seating, with caresses soothed her heart.
She said: “Thou power to my frame dost give;
“Thou lightest my soul's lamp that I may live.
“Nourished by thee each breath my spirit gives;
“On mercy's milk through thee my body lives.
“Such love I from my mother never knew;
“Through thy love to this dignity I grew.
“In parting's woe how long must I be left,
“Of that life of my world so long bereft?
“Oh! would that thou to me wouldst once be kind,
“And my desire's abode that I might find!
“In this way if my love a stranger be,
“In the same house to dwell what gain to me?
“The loved to flee from should her love appear,
“In presence is he far though he be near.
“If heart from spirit still be far away,
“What comes of water's union with its clay?”
The nurse replied: “O thou of Paris' kind,
“Hurí not Pari with whom comes to mind.
“God did create thee in this beauteous wise
“To rob of heart and of his Faith the wise.
“If China's limner longing for thy face,
“Should in a temple e'er thy likeness place,
“The idols with desire at once would live,
“Seeing thy face, to thee their souls would give.
“If on the hill thou shouldst thy cheek reveal,
“The hard rock in itself would love conceal.
“Tread thou the grove with graceful languishing,
“Dead trees thou wouldst into movement bring,
“And in the desert should the deer thee see
“With eyelash they would sweep the road for thee.
“With thy sweet lip shouldst thou intone a spell,
“Birds came from air, from rivers fish as well.
“Why with such beauty dost thou feel such woe,
“And why at last such weakness dost thou show?
“Eyebrows thy bow, thy arrow thy eye's ray,
“Of that enchanting beauty make thy prey.
“Shew but thy cheek and turn his face to thee,
“This secret's thine, and he shall kneel with thee.
“Bring into motion that date-bearing palm,
“Bring him with pleasing gait to road of calm.
“Convert into a noose one lock of thine,
“And round his feet the snare of union twine.
“With thy own silver ball ope thou his eye,
“And like a man raise up his head on high.
“Shed honey round him from thy smiling lip,
“That he in honey may thy sweetness sip.
“Go: to thy face heart-nearing smiles impart,
“And with desire for those smiles scar his heart.”
“Mother, what shall I say,” Zuleikha cried;
“Or what to me from Joseph may betide?
“Since his eye never looks upon my face,
“Before him how can I appear in grace?
“Circling like moon, me he will never see,
“Nor on the ground my sun in brilliancy.
“Should Surma give my eye a brighter ray,
“Scarce to his close-shut orb 'twould find a way.
“If ever he would cast one glance at me,
“He might sometimes my sad condition see.
“If care for me he ever had at heart,
“Of his own care when had he felt the smart?
“Not in his beauty only my misfortune lies;
“It is that I am worthless in his eyes,
“For had that charmer ever cared for me,
“How could he heedless and indifferent be?”
The nurse in answer thus again replied:
“Thou from whose beauty the sun draws fresh pride,
“A thought has just arisen in my breast,
“From which I trust thy heart may find some rest,
“But only then wilt thou this thing behold,
“When camels bear silver and asses gold.
“I will construct a house as Iram fair,
“And will appoint a skilful painter there,
“Who shall with skill portray in every place
“Thee and thy Joseph in a close embrace.
“When Joseph for a while is seated there,
“And in his arms shall see thee everywhere,
“His heart shall stir that beauteous form of thine,
“And towr'ds thy union he will thus incline.
“Him will on all sides then affection move,
“And matters turn out as thou wouldst approve.”
This secret story when the nurse had told,
Zuleikha all her silver brought and gold;
All this in her possession then she placed,
As with the capital her nurse she graced.

THE BUILDING BY THE NURSE OF THE HOUSE IN WHICH WERE THE PICTURES OF JOSEPH AND ZULEIKHA.

Thus state the builders who this tale designed:
To build, when eager turned the nurse her mind,
She brought a man possessed of every skill,
On every finger many an art at will,
In geometric arts well proved and tried,
In astronomic ways a faithful guide.
Did he at hand no compass ready find,
‘A circle with two fingers he designed.
Hard problems from his figures set at rest,²⁰⁶
‘At his doubts cast was Euclid,²⁰⁷ too, oppressed—
To draw a line when he evinced desire,
To make it straight no ruler he'd require.
Agile he mounted on the arching sphere,
‘And upon Saturn built a belvidere.
If he should move his hand towards the pick,
A stone became more soft than unburnt brick.
To architecture when he turned his mind,
‘A thousand fair foundations he would find,
‘And the world's buildings without head or base
Upon a single finger-nail he'd trace.
To making pictures when his thoughts he turned,
Was being's tablet by his pen adorned —
And that which from his brush on pictures flowed,
From its mere drops a soul with being glowed.
If a bird's figure he had carved in stone,
Light rising it had left its place and flown.
As the nurse ordered, he of golden hand
Of a gold palace the foundations planned.
Good fortune's drawing were its couches pure,
And in its roomy houses hope secure.²⁰⁸
Of marble inlaid were its passage floors,
Of ebony and ivory its doors—
Together in it there were mansions seven,
Like the unequalled cupolas of heaven.
Each one was made of stone of varied hue,
Like polished eye, of pleasing colour, too.
The seventh house was as the seventh sphere—
And lost was every shape and colour here—
Its forty pillars were with gold inlaid,
On which were forms of beasts and birds displayed—
At foot of each pillar of gold was made
A deer with bag where fragrant musk was laid.
Of golden peacocks there was full the plain,
With decorated tails in stately train.
And in the midst there was a lofty tree,
Whose like the wondering eye might never see.
Wrought of pure silver its delicate stem,
Gold boughs, with leaves of turquoise surrounding them.
On each branch a bird, created with skill,
With emerald wings and a ruby bill.
And in God's name that green and pleasant tree
From autumn's wind would never blighting see,
And to mankind were all the birds there tame,
And morn and eve at peace together came.
In every place the painter brought to view
The forms of Joseph and Zuleikha too.
As lovers sat together he and she,
As two who in their heart and soul agree.
Both in one place with lips together pressed
One of the other leaning on the breast.²⁰⁹
If any passing by had them there seen,
His envious mouth had full of water been.
The roof, moreover, was just like a sphere
On which a shining moon and sun appear.
A wondrous sun and moon, in form as two
Where both from one rent collar came to view.
Upon the wall's face there appeared to sight
As in the time of spring a rose-bed bright.
On every rosebush of that rose-bed placed
Two branches fair with roses interlaced,
And on its carpet everywhere displayed
In cradle roses two in slumber laid.
In short no spot within that house remained,
But it of charmers that sweet pair contained,
And to whatever side the eye was thrown
At once their beauteous forms were clearly shown.
When thus prepared the house appeared in view
Zuleikha's love for Joseph stronger grew.
When she that temple saw, at every turn
Her heart for Joseph would more freshly burn.
When of his darling the face comes in view,
The lover reads the words of love anew;
When from those words his fires fresh force obtain,
He is led captive by that boundless pain.

THE CALLING OF JOSEPH TO THAT HOUSE BY ZULEIKHA, AND HER DEMANDING UNION WITH HIM.

Op'ning her hand, Zuleikha then arrayed
The house the master there had ready made.
With silken carpets she adorned its floor,
With golden throne increased its beauty more.
Around it lamps with jewels decked were strung,
To give sweet odour scented herbs were hung.
All needful things she had there laid at hand;
To spread the couch of pleasure, too, she planned.
Of each and all in that abode of bliss
Joseph to summon, there failed only this.
Without the face of her who is adored
By the fond lover's Paradise abhorred.
It came to this that she would Joseph call,
With honour she would seat him high in hall,
In secret would his beauteous self caress,
Towards union's plain she would his courser press.
Would from his life-increasing lip gain her desire,
Would from his haughty ringlets ease acquire.
But towards her beauty art should do its part,
That should demand the love of Joseph's heart.
Her charms had never need of shining gem,
Yet her own beauty²¹⁰ she increased with them.
In garden's beauty is well-known the rose,
But with dew-necklace even fairer grows.
With red paint she her roses freshly dressed,
And added to her charm a greater zest.
With dye upon her arching eyebrows laid,
A rainbow of her feast's new moon²¹¹ she made.
Her amber hair in ringlets she combined,
Her Chinese musk locks in each other twined.
Down on her back her locks of musk were laid,
And to the Arghaván gave amber aid.
With surma her soft eye was tinged anew,
Thence black art's sorcery its pupil drew:
With moles of amber fresh upon her face,
She to her darling there would state her case:
“Thy face into my heart such burning threw,
“That to my heart and soul 'twas just as rue.”
Upon her moon with surma-wire²¹² blue lines she drew;—
That Egypt as from Nile more beauteous grew.
That blue line on that moon's face would not show
But as an iron to make blind her foe.
Had the tire-woman seen that frenzied eye,
The surma-wire had she dropped hastily.
Her silver hand she dyed with colour due,
With magic that she might his heart subdue.
An artist drew upon her palm a little thing
With which her beauty to her hand to bring.
Dye of fresh jujube on her filbert²¹⁴ spread
Her lover told of blood-red tears she shed.
By art ten crescents²¹⁵ to the moon appear.
Out of the veil of twilight shining clear,
That from her fortune's terrace she might soon
Show of her union's feast the crescent moon.
Beside her cheek an earring she had laid;
The moon had with a star conjunction made,
Of this world and of faith that fortune clear
From that conjunction might to her draw near!
She like a rose in beauty fresh and gay,
Had clothed herself in garments new that day.
Upon her body then a robe she drew,
Its lily skirt was filled with roses, too.
She clothed the rose's branch with jessamine,
Lilies on breast, roses the sleeve within.
No eye could see, though it examined close,
But water on the tulip and the rose.²¹⁶
A stream of wonder, of pure silver made,
Two fish²¹⁷ at rest there with two forearms laid.
A bracelet fair upon each forearm bound,
With golden collar girt those fish around.
Both cheek and forearm testimony bore,
From moon to crescent she would fair endure—
When on her body slight the robe was laid,
She decked it with gold wrought Chinese brocade.
With a thousand graces that Chinese fair
In Chinese garb seemed an idol there.
She arranged of dry gold and glistening gem
On her harvest of musk²¹⁸ a diadem.
With skirt and bosom all with jewels graced,
Like peacock round the palace court she paced.
Mirror in hand she went on pacing there,
And saw the image of her beauty fair,
And when that fair reflection came to view,
She found it current money, good and true.
Joyed at that cash into her treasure brought,
To purchase it a purchaser she sought.
Some one in search of Joseph when she sent,
Her servant up and down in searching went.
In at the door that moon came suddenly,
In state the sun, in pomp a Mercury.
Traces of clay and water in him none,
Upon his brow a light of lights there shone.
One ray from him a world would lighten still:
One word from him with tales the world would fill.
And when Zuleikha's eye upon him fell,
The fire had seized the cane-brake, one might tell—
She caught his hand, “O being pure,” her cry,
“Light of discerning people of the eye;
“Oh! with what faith, in God's name, dost thou serve!
“Favours and gratitude dost thou deserve.
“Of thy good services so proud am I,
“Thy favour's collar lifts my head on high.
“My gratitude, oh! let me now display:
“And let me praise thee for a while to-day.
“The ways of gratitude now let me show,
“That all the world may speak of it and know.”
With boundless wiles and stratagems she knew,
Of seven houses to the first she drew.
The moment the first golden door was passed
She made it with a lock of iron fast.
And when the door was closed, her lip revealed
The secret which her heart no more concealed.
She first exclaimed: “O longing of my soul,
“Thou of my heart's wish art the very whole.
“Thy image in my dreams before me lay,
“And in my childhood slumber snatched away.
“In the same house with grief it made me dwell,
“And with great longing maddened me as well—
“Thyself when my eye was opened to see,
“I came to this land, an exile for thee.
“For wandering here no remedy I know,
“And pass wretched days in the midst of woe.
“Though I rejoice at seeing thee again,
“Without thy presence hopeless I remain.
“Pass from unkindness: turn to me thy face,
“Speak one word only to me in thy grace.”
Low hanging his head, he said in reply:
“A hundred kings are thy slaves, just as I.
“Make me from this my chain of sorrow free,
“And thus my heart releasing gladden me.
“To be here with thee I no pleasure own,
“To be behind this screen with thee alone.
“Thou art a fire and I am cotton dry:
“Thou Sarsar's wind²¹⁹; a breath of musk am I.
“How can this cotton with the fire contend?
“How must scent's struggle with the Sarsar end?”
These words were to Zuleikha wind, no more:
She to the second house him speaking bore.
Again she locked it firmly as the first,
And with his woe the heart of Joseph burst.
Thence once again Zuleikha raised a cry,
Of many years the veil she lifted high,
“Sweeter than life,” she said: “how long shall anger last?
“Me how long at thy feet shall thy rebellion cast?
“I emptied all my treasure for thy price.
“My sense, my Faith to thee I sacrifice.
“So that my medicine thou mightest be,
“Pledged to my collar thou shouldst follow me.
“Not only dost thou not obey my will,
“In every way dost thou oppose me still.”
He said: “To do sin is not to obey:
“To live in sin 's of wickedness the way,
“For everything of God that 's not approved,
“The chain in service-court may not be moved.
“Nor such a matter may I ever know,
“My hand no power have to strike a blow!”
Few words beyond this in that house were said,
But to another house the way was led.
Zuleikha closed again and locked the door,
And her heart's tale another fashion bore.
In this same way, with wiles and all deceit,
From house to house she onwards led his feet.
In every place she told another tale;
Some other point minute would there prevail.
In houses six her aim was not attained.
Nor exit from the Shishdar²²⁰ for her draughtsman gained.
Thence to the seventh house his feet she brought,
And there the solving of the matter sought.
As yet was she not hopeless in the way,—
Beyond the darkness was the light of day,
From doors a hundred should hope show no light,
Hopeless to eat thy heart still is not right.
Knock at another door; perchance there may
To gain thy object be another way.

THE BRINGING OF JOSEPH BY ZULEIKHA INTO THE SEVENTH HOUSE AND DEMANDING HER OBJECT FROM HIM.

He from this house of mystery who writes,
The author, from behind the screen indites.
When tow'rds the seventh house their course they bent;
Zuleikha uttered thus her loud lament.
“Let thy foot, Joseph, on my eye alight:
“Kindly thy foot place in this Harem²²¹ bright.”
In that glad place she seated him again—
Fastened the iron lock with golden chain—
He found a place where strangers could not pry,
And free its neighbourhood from envy's eye.
No road to come and go for strangers there,
And friends to gain an entrance in despair,
A place for lover and his mistress sole,
No watchman's trouble, no fear from patrol.
The loved one's face in all its beauty gay,
Trolling the lover's heart its jocund lay.
The plain was open wide to all desire,—
On the soul fallen, too, of hope the fire.
Zuleikha's eye and heart to frenzy flown,
In the hand of her lover she placed her own.
With words heart-soothing and discourses sweet
She led him gracefully towards a seat.
Upon that throne she threw herself to rest,
And that fair cypress, weeping thus addressed:
“O rose-cheeked one, toward me raise thy eye,
“And give me now one glance of sympathy.
“Now were the sun himself my face to see,
“Moon-like, would he glean ears from me.
“How long wilt thou see me tortured with woes,
“That on my face thou pity's eye dost close?”
Thus from her heart complaint she constant made,
To Joseph the wish of her soul betrayed.
Still Joseph's eye but on himself was bent;
With head on breast for fear of trouble leant.
Down on the carpet as his eye he brought,
He saw his form with hers together wrought.
Thrown on a couch of silk and gold brocade
The two in close embrace together laid.
Upon those forms he gave a passing look,
And towards another spot his eye then took.
If on the door or wall that eye he kept,
Those rosy-cheeked ones still together slept.
If to the God of heav'n he turned his face,
The same upon the ceiling could he trace.
Towards Zuleikha then he more inclined;
He bent upon her face a look more kind.
Zuleikha's hope in that look vivid grew,
As that bright sun his ray upon her threw.
She fell to weeping with a bitter cry
And heart-felt tears of blood rained from her eye.
“O selfish one, grant my desire”; she cried.
“In union medicine for me provide.
“Thou art life's water and I thirst for thee.
“I die: thou art eternal life to me.
“O unfound treasure, I from thee am far,
“As the dead thirsty without water are—
“Thy scar has me for years in fever kept;
“From love for thee I neither ate nor slept.
“No more do thou me in this fever keep;
“No longer foodless leave me without sleep.
“Thee in the name of that God I adjure,
“Who Lord of all Lords is for evermore.
“By that world-conquering goodness he bestows,
“And by that beauty on thy cheek that glows,—
“By that light brilliant that shines from thy brow,
“And at thy feet for which the moon must bow,—
“By the bow to thy brows its curve that lends;—
“By that waving cypress's graceful bends;—
“By that arching eye-brow, to me a shrine;—
“By the wave of those curling locks of thine;—
“By the magic of eyes mankind that snare;—
“That brocade-clothed head and that robe so fair;—
“By that slender waist one might call a hair;—
“By that mouth a secret one might declare;—
“By those musk-like spots on thy rosy cheeks,
“And by that sweet smile when thy rose-bud²²² speaks;
“By the tear that flows in my longing for thee;—
“By burning sighs when thou'rt parted from me;—
“Thy absence, that mountain I lie below,
“A captive to many a grief and woe;
“Over me by thy love's great victory;—
“By thy being content if I live or die;—
“Now pity me helpless and in despair,—
“Unloose the knots of this grievous affair.
“My heart for long ages has borne thy scar;
“I look for thy scent from thy garden far.
“For a while the salve of my heart's wound be,
“And scent with thy beauty my mead for me.
“Through parting's famine have I lost my strength:
“From union's table feed my soul at length!
“Mine is the milk, dates, palm-tree fresh, from thee:
“Fail not to spread thy table now for me.
“Food for my soul in milk and dates vouchsafe:
“From perishing by famine make me safe.”
Then answered Joseph: “Thou of Paris' kind,
“To vie with whom no Pari comes to mind,
“Bring not this matter to a cruel pass,
“Dash not a stone against my sinful glass.
“With sinful water wet thou not my robe,
“Nor with the fire of lust my body probe.
“Whose forms men are by Him who has no like;²²³
“To whom inside and out are all alike;
“Foam from Whose bounty-sea the spheres arose,
“And from Whose lightning the sun brightly glows;
“By those pure souls from whom I claim descent,
“From whom this purity to me is lent,
“From whom this spirit pure I gain of mine,
“In whom my star does aye so brilliant shine,
“Thy hand from me, oh! lift thou off to-day,
“And thus release me from this narrow way.
“Then quick my meed of service shalt thou see,
“A thousand deeds of gratitude from me;—
“From my life-giving lip thy wish obtain,
“And ease from my enchanting stature gain.
“Thy longed for food, oh! be not quick to taste;—
“Many delays are sweeter than is haste.—
“Better to snare a noble prey at last,
“Than a good end to lose by being fast.”
Zuleikha said: “Himself the thirsty soul
“To drink till to-morrow will not control.
“My life is on my lip from love to-day;
“I have no patience for the night's delay.
“And whence again the power may I find,
“To more delay than I should be inclined?
“To this I know not what can hindrance give,
“For me one moment that thou canst not live.”
He said: “Two things will hinder my desire:
“Reproach from God,—of the Vazír the ire.
“This crooked nature should the Vazír know,
“A hundred pains will he inflict and woe.
“In the way that thou knowest he'll bare his blade,
“And bare of life's robe will my form be laid.
“And oh! the disgrace on the Judgment Day
“When fines the adulterers have to pay!
“When they write down the wickeds' recompense
“Will my name among all their list commence!”
“Think not of that foe”; Zuleikha replied:
“He will place me some day at a feast by his side,
“That will plague his soul he a cup shall drain,
“And drunk²²⁴ till Judgment Day not rise again.
“Thou sayest, ‘My God is compassionate,
“‘And with pity looks on a sinner's state.’
“Of pearls and jewels a plentiful store
“Still lies there buried beneath this floor.
“These for thy sins an offering I stake,
“To God that thy excuses they may make.”
He said: “To this can I never incline
“That others should suffer for fault of mine;
“And the Vazír especially, who thee
“Has kindly appointed to wait on me.
“My God, whose favour one can ne'er repay,
“Shall He for bribes His mercy give away?
“He who for giving life takes no reward,
“For bribes His pardon how should He afford?”
Zuleikha answered him: “O happy king,
“Both crown and throne to thee may fortune bring!
“My heart a butt is for the dart of pain:
“Excuse thou heapest on excuse again.
“‘Excuse’ is crooked-faced, full of deceit:
“In a fair game ‘excuse’ thou” It never meet.
“Now God forbid on false ways that I go;
“Deceit from thee no longer may I know.
“I am strangely feeble; oh! give me rest:
“Willing, unwilling, grant me my request.
“In words on words full many days have passed;
“And yet my hope is not attained at last.
“Thy tongue fŕom bond of idle tales release:
“Move from thy place, that so my woes may cease.
“In my dry cane-brake there has fallen fire,
“Yet in my burning hast thou thy desire.
“What is my gain from all this fire and smoke,
“Since tears in thy eyes it will not provoke?
“Like smoke from fire I upwards curl and soar;
“Come: on this flame of mine thy water pour.”
Zuleikha ceased this secret forth to pour:
Joseph began to make excuse once more.
“O Hebrew speaker,” she resumed her say:
“Thou hast in talking robbed my time away.
“In this affair oppose no more my will,
“Or else with thy own hand myself I kill.
“Now let my hand around thy neck be laid,
“Or it shall feel of dagger keen the blade.
“If on my neck thy hand thou wilt not lay,
“Upon thy neck wilt thou my blood's price pay.
“I'll sheath my lily dagger in my breast,
“Like rose with crimson hue will dye my vest.
“My form shall from my soul know pastime's pain,
“And thus from thy excuses freedom gain.
“Me the Vazír shall find before thee dead,
“And thus to kill thee, too, will he be led.”
Before his dart her soul a butt she made,
Herself as oyster for his pearls she laid.
Aim at the target Joseph would not take,
Nor in his search for pearls the oyster break;
He wished the pearl with diamond to bore,
But his heart held his chastity the more.
Importunate Zuleikha was, but he
Would interpose delay repeatedly.
When in the corner of the house, behold
Sudden a curtain of embroidered gold!
He questioned her: “Why is that curtain there?
“Who sits concealed behind that curtain fair?”
She said: “While I live in the world below,
“By way of service before him I bow.
“A golden idol, gems he has for eyes,
“Full of pure musk a tray within him lies.
“I fall down every hour before his face,
“My head before him in obedience place.
“And when thou dead behind earth's veil shalt be,
“This longing soul shall fix itself on thee.”
Thus saying, from beneath the couch she drew
Like willow leaf a sword of lightning hue;
And with the fire of grief inflamed and sore,
To thirsting throat that drop of water bore.
When Joseph saw, he leapt up from his place
Her hand like golden bracelet to embrace.
“Zuleikha, from this rashness cease,” he said,
“And on this path let not thy steps be led.
“Dost thou desire thy object's face to see,
“Or gain thy wish from union with me?”
Zuleikha, moon enchanting of the sky,
When she saw kindness beam from Joseph's eye,
Thought that, perhaps, her wishes he might grant,
In union might with peace her soul enchant.
Cast from her hand in haste the blade away,
Of concord she essayed another way,—
From his sweet mouth a draught of sugar drew,
His arm around her neck as collar threw.²²⁵
“I made him up a place within the screen,
“That ever by him I might not be seen.
“That he might not see evil that I do:
“What I am doing now, he may not view.”
When Joseph heard the word, he raised the cry:
“Of such dinars of cash no dáng have I.²²⁶
“Before the eyes of dead things thou hast shame,
“And from these lifeless ones thou fearest blame.
“The great, wise Seer, why should I not fear?
“Why the Eternal God should I not fear?”
He spoke, and from the midst his way to take,
Arose from that sweet sleeping place awake.
From the Lám-Aleph, Aleph stripped away,²²⁷
Seized camphor lamp on silver stand that lay.
When, with swift footsteps he began to run,
Doors in his flight he opened every one.
Each door when he approached to open it,
Locks here, bolts there, in every place were split.
Point with his finger, he need do no more,
In his hand lay the key of every door.
She saw, and in pursuit Zuleikha sped,
In the last chamber caught him as he fled.
Seizing his skirt to bring him back she flew,
And from behind she tore his vest in two.
Passed from her hand that one with grief forlorn,
His vest was like an opening rosebud torn.
Zuleikha wretched tore her own robe's fold—
Upon the ground as her own shadow rolled.
From her sad heart rose loud Zuleikha's cry,
Her wailing in her sorrow rose on high.
“Ah! woe is me, my unpropitious fate,
“That my love bore his goods from out my gate!
“Alas! my prey escaped my snare in haste!
“Woe for that honey that I could but taste!
“A spider had determined on a day,
“That for itself it would entrap some prey.
“It saw a royal falcon sitting down,
“From hand of one escaped who wore a crown;
“Its web around it it began to spin,
“From flight its wings and feathers to hold in.
“And for a while on the affair intent,
“Its web completely on the matter spent.
“And when away that royal falcon sped,
“Were left the spider but some bits of thread.
“I am that spider, weeping and forlorn,
“Fallen from hope, who far away am borne.
“My soul's vein worn through, just as was that thread,
“My prey, hope's bird, too, from my snare has fled.
“My cord is broken off from every thing,
“And in my hand are broken bits of string.”

THE FINDING BY THE VAZIR OF JOSEPH OUTSIDE THAT HOUSE, AND THE DISCOVERY OF HER SECRET BY ZULEIKHA.

The pen of this tale's writer thus has said:
Out of the house as Joseph flying sped,
Outside the house there met him the Vazír:
A troop of his domestics, too, were near—
When the Vazír saw him with this tumult fired,
Regarding this confusion he enquired,
He in his answer due politeness paid;
No charge was made, no secret was betrayed.
He kindly took his hand within his own,
And to that Pari-faced one led him on.
She saw them thus, and to herself she said:
“Joseph the matter has to him betrayed.”
In that suspicion loud she raised her wail,
And from her secret's face raised up the veil.
“O scale of justice, what should him betide,
“Who with thy wife²²⁸ would all faith lay aside;
“In his own evil way without a thought,
“Within the veil such wickedness has wrought?”
Leave gave the Vazír. “Pari-face,” he said:
“Say who this crooked nature has displayed?”
She answered him: “This Hebrew slave, the one,
“Whom from the first thou 'st chosen for thy son.
“Freed from the dust of labour of the day,
“To rest within my chamber here I lay.
“He like a thief around my pillow went,
“To pluck my wild-rose harvest with intent,
“And that I knew it not—such was his thought—
“To that rose-garden glad his footsteps brought.
“Of gardener no leave did he demand,
“Spikenard and rose to plunder with his hand.
“Just as his hand that madman would produce
“The knots of union's treasure to unloose,
“I from my heavy sleep awake became,
“From cup of lifelessness to life I came.
“At my awaking he became afraid,
“And his way quickly from my presence made.
“Towards the door he turned his face in shame,
“And lucky nigh to open it he came.
“Hast'ning behind, I followed in pursuit,
“And reached him ere without he placed his foot.
“Nimble and quick, I seized upon his hem:
“His vest rent as a rose from off its stem.
“With open mouth his tattered garment gapes,
“And what I say with proper meaning shapes.
“Now were it best like those of evil mind.
“That he awhile be in the jail confined.
“Or that in person on his body pure,
“Some pain to grieve him he should now endure.
“If thou approve for him this heavy pain,
“The warning may cause others to refrain.”
As she this story to the Vazír told,
He could himself in patience no more hold.
With blame as with a sword his tongue applied,
From path of rectitude he stepped aside.
He said to Joseph: “My jewels were weighed:
“Two hundred treasures for thee empty made
“I chose thee for my son; in dignity
“Then did I raise thee to a station high.
“I caused Zuleikha, too, to be thy friend,
“Her servants thee to wait on and attend.
“Rings in their ears, they all thy slaves became
“Faithful and pure in faith to thee they came.
“Over my goods, too, I set thee apart,
“Nor did I vex in any way thy heart.
“Was it a wise man's act that thou hast done?
“Be for thy evil deed God's pardon won!
“It is not right in this our world of woe
“That aught but gratitude the good should know.
“Ungrateful thou, though favour thou hast seen
“Hast in ingratitude rebellious been.
“Of gratitude thou passest by the street,
“And breakest the salt-dish, as thou salt dost eat.”
When Joseph the Vazír's excitement saw,
He shrank as hairs before a flame withdraw.
He said: “O, Vazír, whom doth justice grace,
“Do not impute to me a crime so base.
“Zuleikha 's false, whatever she may say:
“Her falsehood is a lamp without a ray.
“God woman from man's left side did create,
“And from the left is never seen what 's straight.²²⁹
“He who knows left and right will know this thing:
“'Tis hard for what is right from left to spring.
“Since we first met, her purpose she retains,
“Until from me her object she obtains.
“Behind me or before to come she'll never fail,
“And ever calls me for some idle tale.
“My eye in seeing her has aye passed by,
“Nor on her envious table have I cast that eye.
“What should I be, then, with thy nature kind,
“In thy harím my wicked foot to find?
“But slave, who, when his master is not there,
“To sit upon his cushion shall prepare.
“To exile's pain my heart became a prey,
“Of ease from every corner torn away.
“A messenger to me Zuleikha sent,
“On opening many a door of care intent.
“By many sweet illusions led astray,
“She to this private place bore me away.
“Her hope's fulfilment did she then demand:
“No hope of safety left she in my hand.
“Towards the door in hasty flight I passed,
“And reached it with a hundred woes at last.
“Lo! close upon me from behind she pressed,
“And on my back she tore in two my vest.
“Between us two, I say, from first to last,
“No trafficking but this has ever passed.
“If then, my innocence thou dost not see,
“In God's name do what thou mayst wish to me.”
Zuleikha heard the words as Joseph spoke,
And to prove innocence must God evoke.
And to this other oaths she added more:
By Egypt's king's head and the crown he wore,
By the Vazír's high state and dignity,
Whom the king honoured with his privity.
If in a suit some obstacle arise,
What is an oath in a false witness'²³⁰ eyes?
Of many oaths the swearing will reveal
The evil thoughts the swearer too may feel.
After her oath as from her eyes tears ran,
She cried: “'Twas Joseph that the thing began.”
Their lamps of falsehood when false women light
They need no oil but tears to keep them bright;
And if upon their lamps such oil they pour,
A whole world may be burnt up in an hour.
Those oaths, those tears shed in the Vazír's sight,
The carpet he rolled up of seeing right.
He gave an officer a sign, a blow
To strike on Joseph's soul, as lute with bow:
To tear his soul's vein with the wound of grief,
Erase from his tablet the verse of relief:
To take him to jail, where he should remain
Till the secret matter became more plain.

THE TAKING OF JOSEPH TO PRISON, AND THE GIVING OF EVIDENCE BY A SUCKING CHILD AS TO HIS PURITY, AND THE VAZIR LEAVING HIM.

His hand that officer on Joseph laid,
To the labour-place of the jail conveyed;
The heart of Joseph was rent with despair
Secret he raised to heaven his face in prayer:
“O Thou Who wise art in all mysteries,
“With Thee the knowledge of all secrets lies.
“Falsehood and truth thou ever knowest here,
“And who but Thou can make this secret clear?
“With the truth's light as Thou hast filled my eyes,
“Oh! let me not be charged through uttered lies.
“May in my claim some evidence appear,
“For in Thy sight my truth is bright and clear.”
From thumb-stall of design that might the world subdue,
Directly to the target his prayer's arrow flew.
A woman there, by bonds of kindred tied,
Both night and day was by Zuleikha's side.
A child of three months old her shoulder graced,
Dear as her very soul by her embraced —
Its tongue, like lily, words had never said,
Nor roll of exposition had it read.
It cried: “O Vazír, patiently abide,
“Nor hastily on punishment decide.
“Joseph does not deserve to be chastised
“For loving mercy he is justly prized.”
At the child's speech the Vazír was amazed,
And with due rev'rence conversation raised—
“O thou whose lip from milk is not yet free,
“In fairest speech God has instructed thee:
“Tell me now clearly; who has lit this flame,
“And has burnt the veil of my honoured name?”
“No scandalous tale-bearer I,” it said,
“Secrets by whom to strangers are betrayed—
“Tell-tale is China's musk, aye black of face,
“Through many curtains whose scent one may trace.
“And see how fresh the roses are in spring,
“Because their curtains still around them cling.
“I backbite not, but yet that thou mayst know,
“To thee this hidden secret will I show.
“Go, look on Joseph's state at once, and see
“His vest, in what way it came torn to be,
“If from the front it has been torn in two,
“Free of his skirt Zuleikha thou mayst view:—
“In Joseph's claim there is no light to view;—
“For his own sake he says what is not true.
“But if the vest has from behind been torn,
“His skirt is free of that wickedness borne:
“Then what Zuleikha says will not be true:
“The way of truth then she does not pursue.”
When the child's words had reached the Vazír's ear,
The vest's condition he made haste to clear.
The vest was torn behind: this he could see,
And blamed that woman for her treachery.
“I knew that this deceit had come from thee,
“That innocent he should imprisoned be.
“What fraud is this that thou hast done at last?
“What evil this that to thyself has passed?
“Thou takest off of honour's road thy stand,
“And of thy own slave love didst thou demand.
“Approving that which thou shouldst evil know,
“Of this didst thou the blame upon him throw.
“Man's heart in two a woman's fraud will rend—
“Of woman's treachery there is no end.
“Through woman's fraud the pure man falls and lies;
“To woman's fraud the learned is a prize.
“From woman's fraud may none despairing be!
“And may deceitful women never be!
“Seek in humility God's pardoning grace:
“For very shame turn to the wall thy face.
“Go: this disorder with thy tears allay,
“And wash this ill word from thy book away.
“Thou, Joseph, in this matter bind thy tongue,
“By none this secret from thy lips be wrung.
“This in thy converse be enough for thee,
“That thy own innocence is clear to me.
“Backbiter's path to walk on do thou loathe:
“Better than rending veils is it to clothe.”
Thus spoke the Vazír as he turned away,
Well known for easy temper in his day.
Patience attracts the heart, yet not as this:
Good temper pleases, too, not such as this.
To ease his wife a man himself may lend,—
In cuckoldom²³¹ will such good nature end.
In a wife's matter not so lenient be:
'Twill break what is a bar to jealousy.

LETTING LOOSE THE TONGUE OF REPROACH AGAINST ZULEIKHA BY THE WOMEN OF EGYPT WITH REGARD TO JOSEPH'S LOVE.

Now safety's corner suits not love in pace:
It loves the street of blame and its disgrace.
The pain of love in blame becomes more proud,
And in a tumult is its voice more loud.
Love's markets' guardian will blame ever be,
The polisher of rust to make it free.
The blame from all sides that on love is spent
But serves as whip-thong to the indolent.
When the steed of the road is heavy in pace,
The whip makes it sharp and keen for the race.
Zuleikha's secret's rose to bloom has sprung:
The world in blame 's a nightingale in tongue—
And this when the Egyptian women knew,
To keen reproach they all receptive grew.
For good or bad they all upon her fell,
And in reproach their tongues were loosed as well.
“All shame and honour has she cast aside:
“Her mad heart to this Hebrew slave is tied.
“So has he grasped the marrow of her soul,
“Of faith and sense her hand has lost control.
“From the right path so strangely has she erred
“That in her sight her own slave is preferred:
“And stranger still, that slave from her must fly,
“And shun her friendship and her company.
“Nowhere he casts a look upon her face,
“Nor on the same road moves his foot one pace.
“When she moves on his wish is to stand still;—
“When she would stand to move on is his will.
“When from her cheek she would remove the veil,
“His eyelash shuts his eye as with a nail.
“At every grief he laughs where she would weep;
“All doors she opens he fast closed would keep.
“It may be in his eye she is not good,
“And thence towards her never bends his mood.
“If ever that charmer sat by our side,
“In no place else would he ever abide.
“On road of despair he would never move thus;
“Our wish would he give and gain his from us.
“Acceptance can not every one acquire,
“To be accepted nor can all aspire.
“Many fair cheeked and virtuous though we find,
“Yet towards them men's hearts may not be inclined.
“Full many a Leila, of caressing mood,
“Must pour as from a fountain springs of blood.”
And now, Zuleikha having heard the case,
Determined these unjust ones to disgrace.
Without delay she bade a feast prepare,
And the women of Egypt summoned there.
What a feast in a royal banquet hall!
A thousand luxurious things at call!
What sweetmeats pure of each colour and hue,
Like a light reflected the darkness through!
And in crystal cups whose lip overflows
Is mingled rose-water with attar of rose.
Its ground was decked as with the sun's golden bars:
The silver cups a galaxy of stars.
Flavour and perfume from table and bowl,
Food for the body and strength for the soul.
Things there for eating whatever you wish,
Of bird they had brought together and fish.
Borrowed in place of sweets the fair, and drew
Sugar from lips and from teeth almonds, too,
Sweetmeats on boards of every hue and shade;
Shirín²³² foundations for that feast had laid.
In place of carpet spread upon the ground
Many gold bricks with candy laid around.
There sugar-eating lips with mouths of grace
Left for luzinah²³³ in the mouth no place.
When to seek lozenges their palates came,
Their tongues of gardens never named the name.²³⁴
None seeking wonders could have ever thought
Such baskets out of water could be brought
Of fruit as fresh, as juicy and as rare,
As gardeners with water could prepare.
Handmaids and waiting-boys on every side
In service stood as peacocks in their pride.
Of Egypt there the Pari-faced ones found,
On golden cushions seated all around,
From every table ate what they desired;
And did such things as the right way required.
When from before them all the cloths were raised,
Them all in sugared speech Zuleikha praised.
And for each woman laid with cunning art
A knife and orange by her side apart.
One hand the knife held, sharp its work to do,
Orange the other, gladness to renew.
The orange deepest yellow, yet the while
A famous medicine for curing bile.
Then said she to them: “All ye fair and sweet,
“At beauty's banquet ye who lofty sit,
“Why do ye my desire so bitter taste,
“This Hebrew slave's love that to blame ye haste?
“If full of light his eye ye could but see,
“Ye would in seeing make excuse for me.
“Here will I bring him if ye so decide,
“And for this purpose I will be his guide.”
All cried at once: “In every word we speak,
“This only is the aim that we all seek.²³⁵
“Bid that in stately grace he here be led,
“Softly to spread his skirt about our head.
“With heart and soul do we his presence seek,
“Lovers of him, though yet unseen his cheek.
“Thy orange hold we in our hands awhile,
“For us, the bilious, as a cure for bile;
“To cut, his cheek unseen, would not be right,
“And none will cut it till he come in sight.”
Zuleikha sent her nurse to bring him there,
And say: “Come to us here, thou cypress fair.
“Put forth thy foot, that I beneath may fall:
“Before thy beauteous stature I may fall.
“Thy tranquil home shall be my sorrowing breast,
“My eye the carpet on thy road to rest.”
Joseph would at the nurse's word not come,
Nor would the rose with idle talking bloom.
On her own feet, then, thither where he dwelt,
Zuleikha went and down before him knelt.
Weeping she said: “O light of my two eyes,
“Longing in my pained heart for thee must rise—
“At first didst thou thyself inspire me hope;
“For longing now there is no farther scope.
“Disgraced among men have I been through thee,
“And of men's tongues the topic shall I be.
“I take it I am all mean in thy eye,
“And that on me thou never canst rely.
“Though unreliable and base, to shame
“Bring me of Egypt not before each dame—
“To eat thy lip's salt longs my wounded heart;
“To sprinkle salt upon it thy lip's part.
“Oh! of my faithfulness conceive no doubt;
“The rights of that salt do thou carry out.”
Of her enchantments with the fire aflame,
Pliant to come thus Joseph's heart became.
To deck him out she rose up as the wind,
Like cypress garb of green on him to bind.
She hung the ringlets of his perfumed hair
Before his cloak like amber fresh and fair.
Thou wouldst have thought it was of musk a snake,
That wreathed itself around a verdant brake.
Upon his hair-like waist she tightly bound
A golden girdle with gems studded round—
Those jewels' weight, those heavy rubies' pain,
I wonder such a waist could bear the strain.
Upon his head a jewelled diadem,
Delight was beaming forth from every gem.
Shoes on his feet of pearls and rubies full,
A string of pearls the latchets, too, to pull.
A girdle of brocade as chaplet hung,
A hundred hearts and souls on each thread strung.
She placed a golden ewer in his hand,
A gold-wreathed handmaid to before him stand.
A silver dish upon her hand she bore,
And step by step, as shadow walked before.
Thus bright and fresh whoever saw him stand
Of his dear life at once would wash his hand—
Of his look more than this I could not say,—
Beyond my praise he would be far away.
That hidden treasure from the private room
Came out like rosebud in its fullest bloom.
Saw Egypt's dames that rose-bed of delight,
And from that rose-bed plucked one rose of sight.
With that one sight their senses them forsook,
And from their hands the reins of power shook.
At that fair form of his were all amazed,
And, wond ring, all like lifeless bodies gazed.
By that fair vision as was each inspired,
At once to cut her orange she desired.
From her own hand her orange no one knew,
And thus across her hand the knife she drew.
A pen made one her fingers with her sword,
Upon her heat devotion to record;
A reed, which if the sword should strike a blow,
Vermilion from each joint would quickly flow:
Out of her palm a silver page one made,
Where, as in calendars, red lines were laid:
From every line there flowed a stream of blood,
Beyond its banks o'erflowing in a flood—
And when they saw him of such high degree,
They cried aloud: “No mortal man is he,
“Not formed, like Adam, of water and clay:
“An angel pure below has found his way.”
Zuleikha said: “This is that peerless one,
“For whom reproaches I have undergone.
“Your blame through which my very soul was torn,
“All for the love of this fair form was borne.
“Yet was his head not bowed down to my will,
“The hope of all my days he 'd not fulfil.
“My hope in soul and body him I called—
“To union with myself him even called—
“If towards my aim he will not move his foot,
“Him in the prison's corner must I put.
“If in disgrace in jail he still delays,
“And would consume in trouble all his days,
“Let his rebellion in the jail reform,
“And in good habits yet his heart grow warm.
“Nothing the free wild bird will ever tame
“Like that ease in a cage which he can claim.”
As then his face the Egyptian dames beheld,
Their hands cut many with the knives they held.
And of those dames whose hands were cut, a part
Lost wisdom, patience, and all sense and heart.
From his love's sword their souls they could not save,
In that assembly still their lives they gave.
Another part from reason were estranged,
And from that Pari's love became deranged.
Bare both in head and foot they ran around.
Nor e'er again the light of reason found.
And yet a part to reason came at last,
But pained at heart for love their days they passed,
And, like Zuleikha, drunk from Joseph's bowl,
Caught in his snare were those birds of their soul.
Of wine was Joseph's beauty as a pot,
Where each found gain according to his lot.
From inebriety one profit gained;
From thoughts of being one release obtained;
One for his beauty gave her soul for nought:
One dumb remained, absorbed but in his thought.
By her alone should pardon be obtained,
Who from that wine no sort of profit gained.