Flowers from Persian Poets



IShaikh Sa'di, the nightingale of Shiraz, as Jami poetically calls this gifted poet, was born at Shiraz, the capital of Persia, near the end of the twelfth century. All biographers agree that he lived to be over a hundred years old, Daulat Shah even crediting him with a hundred and twenty years. Shaikh Muslih-ud-Din, for that is Sa'di's real name, was patronized by Atabak Sad-ibn-Zangi, the Viceroy of Persia, hence his takhallus, Sa'di; to which was added as a great honor the title of Shaikh. At this time the college at Baghdad was the great educational centre of the East, and there Sa'di was educated. He was of a religious temperament and is said to have made fourteen pilgrimages to Mecca. These journeys took place during the second period of his life, for most writers divide Sa'di's life into three parts : the first devoted to study, the second to travel, and the third to seclusion, for at Shiraz he built himself a hermitage and there, when over sixty, he devoted himself to his great literary career. Emerson, commenting on his varied experience, says : " By turns, a student, a water-carrier, a traveller, a soldier fighting against the Christians in the Crusades, a prisoner employed to dig trenches before Tripoli, and an honored poet in his protracted old age at home, — his varied and severe experience took away all provincial tone, and gave him a facility of speaking to all conditions. But the commanding reason of his wider popularity is his deeper sense, which, in his treatment, expands the local forms and tints to a cosmopolitan breadth. Through his Persian dialect he speaks to allnations, and, like Homer, Shakespeare, Cervantes, and Montaigne, is perpetually modern.1' Indeed, " He has furnished the originals of a multitude of tales and proverbs which are current in our mouths, and attributed by us to recent writers ; as, for example, the story ofi Abraham and the Fire-worshippers,1 once claimed for Doctor Franklin, and afterward traced to Jeremy Taylor, who probably found it in Olearius."
His works number twenty-four.1 Among those best known are the Gulistan, or Rose Garden, and the Bustan, or the Garden of Perfume. The Gulistan is a collection of short pithy stories, based on Sa'di^ own varied experiences, and read, it is said, from the middle of China to the extreme corners of Africa, forming as it does the basis of instruction in Mohammedan schools. In his Preface to the Gulistan, Sa'di tells how he came to write the book. " . . . It happened once, that I was benighted in a garden, in company with one of my friends. The spot was delightful, the trees intertwined; you would have said that the earth was bedecked with glass spangles, and that the knot of the Pleiades was suspended from the branch of the vine. A garden with a running stream, and trees from whence birds were warbling melodious strains : that filled with tulips of various hues ; these loaded with fruits of several kinds. Under the shade of its trees the zephyr had spread the variegated carpet. In the morning, when the desire to return home overcame our inclination for remaining, I saw in his lap a collection of roses, odoriferous herbs, and hyacinths, which he had intended to carry to town. I said, 4 You are not ignorant of the fact that the flower of the garden soon fadeth, and that the enjoyment of the rosebush is but of short continuance; and the sages have declared that the heart ought not to be set upon anything that is transitory.1 He asked, ' What course is then to be pursued ?1 I replied: 'I am able to form a
1 Sir Gore Ouseley in his Biographical Notices of Persian Poets.
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book of roses, which will delight the beholders, and gratify those who are present; whose leaves the tyrannic arm of the autumnal blasts can never affect, nor injure the blossoms of its spring. What benefit will you derive from a basket of flowers ? Carry a leaf from my garden: a rose may continue in bloom for five or six days ; but this rose garden will flourish forever.' As soon as I had uttered these words, he flung the flowers from his lap, and, laying hold of the skirt of my garment^ exclaimed, ' When the beneficent promise, they faithfully discharge their engagements.1 In the course of a few days, two chapters (one on the comforts of society, and the other containing rules for conversation) were written out in my note-book, in a style that may be useful to orators, and improve the skill of letter-writers. In short, whilst the rose was yet in, bloom, the book entitled the Rose Garden was finished."1
The Bustan, Sa'di's other famous work, is also used as a text-book in military and civil examinations, and consists of ten chapters of didactic verse. The remarkable fact about his writings is the extremely simple way in which they are expressed. He took his lessons from the world; indeed he went so far in his zeal to experience all things personally that he at one time assumed the religion of the worshippers of Vishnu, a sect for which he really had no sympathy. The story of this assumed conversion is told in his Bustan.2
Sa'di became a confirmed woman-hater, owing probably to his two unfortunate marriages. He himself has given us a graphic account of his first marriage in the Gulistan 3 as well as a most lovely lament on the death of his only son.4 His daughter lived to marry the famous Hafiz.
Taking his writings as a whole, one may say that Sa'di's creed was cheerfulness and contentment. In fact he himself tells us that he was never discontented but once in his
1	Gladwin's translation.
2	See page 332.
' 3 See page 280. * See page 325.

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life, when he grumbled because he had no shoes. But shortly after he met a man who had no feet. His grumbling ceased.
This dervish wit and linguist the Mohammedans worshipped as a saint, even attributing miracles to him. His body now lies entombed in the valley of Shiraz, and is daily visited by devout pilgrims who say of him, in true Oriental fashion, that he " perforated with the diamond of his soul the precious stones of his experiences, and, after gathering them on the string of eloquence, hung them for a talisman round the neck of posterity."
GULISTAN ; OR, ROSE GARDEN.1 Preface.
The Glorious Qualities of the Monarch of the True
Faith (May God make clear its Demonstration)
Abu-Bakr-bin-Sad-bin-Zangi?
The fair report of Sa'di, which is celebrated by the general voice; and the fame of his sayings, which has travelled the whole surface of the earth ; and the loved reed,3 which imparts his discourse, and which they devour like honey; and the manner in which men carry off the scraps of his writing, as though they were
1	Selections from Edward B. Eastwick's translation.
2	Bin, ben, or ibn signifies " son of."
8The Oriental kalarn (calamus) or pen is, as every one knows, a reed. This leads to various poetical fantasies. Thus Maulavi Rumi,
" Hear the reed's complaining wail!
Hear it tell its mournful tale!
Torn from the spot it loved so well, Its grief, its sighs, our tears compel."

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gold leaf— are not to be ascribed to the perfection of his own excellence or eloquence, but [to this, that] the Lord of the Earth, the Axis of the Revolution of Time, the Successor of Suliman, the Defender of the People of the True Faith, the Puissant King of Kings, the Great Atabak 1 Muzaffaru'd-din Abu-Bakr-bin-Sad-bin-Zangi, God's shadow on earth (O God! approve him and his desires /) has regarded him with extreme condescension and bestowed on him lavish commendation, and evinced a sincere regard for him. Of a verity, from attachment to him, all people, both high and low, have become favorably inclined toward me, since men adopt the sentiments of their kings.2
Quatrain.
Since to my lowliness thou didst with favor turn, My track is clearer than the sun's bright beam.
Though in thy servant all might every fault discern ; When kings approve, e'en vices virtues seem.
Verse.
'Twas in the bath, a piece of perfumed clay
Came from my loved one's hands to mine, one day.
" Art thou then musk or ambergris ? " I said ;
1	Atabak is a Turkish word signifying " father of the prince." It was originally applied to a prime minister or great noble of state. It afterward became the title of a dynasty of Persian kings, originally Turkomans, who reigned from 1148 to 1264 A.D. To the sixth of these, Sad-bin-Zangi, Sa'di dedicates his Gulistan. He reigned thirty-five years, and died A.D. 1259.
2	A quotation from the Koran.
" That by thy scent my soul is ravished ? " " Not so," it answered, " worthless earth was I, But long I kept the rose's company; Thus near, its perfect fragrance to me came, Else I'm but earth, the worthless and the same."1
Story.
A king was seated in a vessel with a Persian slave. The slave had never before beheld the sea, nor experienced the inconvenience of a ship. He began to weep and bemoan himself, and a tremor pervaded his frame. In spite of their endeavors to soothe him, he would not be quieted. The comfort of the king was disturbed by him; but they could not devise a remedy. In the ship there was a philosopher, who said, " If you command, I will silence him." The king answered, " It would be the greatest favor." The philosopher directed them to cast the slave into the sea. He underwent several submersions, and they then took him by the hair and dragged him toward the ship. He clung to the rudder of the vessel with both hands, and they then pulled him on board again. When he had come on board, he seated himself in a corner and kept quiet. The king approved, and asked, "What was the secret of this expedient ? " The philosopher replied, " At first he had not tasted the agony of drown-
i By this simile, which in the original is of exquisite beauty, Sa'di would express his own unworthiness, and the estimation imparted to him by the king's favor.
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ing, and knew not the value of the safety of a vessel. In the same manner a person who is overtaken by calamity learns to value a state of freedom from ill."
Stanza.
Sated, thou wilt my barley-loaf repel.
She whom I love ill-favored seems to thee.
To Eden's Houris Iraf would seem hell: Hell's inmates ask — they'll call it heavenly.
Couplet.
Wide is the space 'twixt him who clasps his love,
And him whose eyes watch for the door to move.1
Story.
In a certain year I was engaged in devotion at the tomb of the Prophet Yahiya,2 in the principal mosque of Damascus. It happened that one of the Arabian princes, who was notorious for his injustice, came as a pilgrim thither, performed his prayers, and asked [of God] what he stood in need of.
Couplet.
The poor, the rich, alike must here adore:
The wealthier they, their need is here the more.
1	In expectation of seeing his loved one come in.
2	St John the Baptist, whose remains were said to be interred in a church at Damascus. After the conquest of Syria by the Mussulman, this church was converted into a mosque, and called the mosque of the tribe of Ummiyah.
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Verse.
With the strong arm and giant grasp 'tis wrong
To crush the feeble, unresisting throng.
Who pities not the fallen, let him fear,
Lest, if he fall, no friendly hand be near.
Who sows ill actions and of blessing dreams,
Fosters vain fantasies and idly schemes.
Unstop thy ears, thy people's wants relieve,
If not, a day 1 shall come when all their rights receive.
Dis ticks,
All Adam's race are members of one frame; Since all, at first, from the same essence came, When by hard fortune one limb is oppressed, The other members lose their wonted rest: If thou feel'st not for others' misery, A son of Adam is no name for thee.
Story.
One of my companions came to me with complaints of his ill-fortune, saying, " I have but little means of
iThat is, the day of resurrection.
He then turned toward me and said, " On account of the generous character of dervishes, and the sincerity of their dealings, I ask you to give me the aid of your spirit, for I stand in dread of a powerful enemy." I replied, " Show mercy to thy weak subjects, that thou mayst not experience annoyance from a puissant foe."
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subsistence, and a large family, and I cannot support the burden of poverty; it has frequently entered my head that I would go to another country, in order that, live how I may, no one may know of my welfare or the reverse.
Couplet.
Full many a starving wight has slept1 unknown ;
Full many a spirit fled that none bemoan.
Again, I am in dread of the rejoicing of my enemies, lest they should laugh scoffingly at me behind my back, and impute my exertions in behalf of my family to a want of humanity, and say,
Stanza.
See now, that wretch devoid of shame ! for him Fair fortune's face will smile not, nor has smiled;
Himself he pampers in each selfish whim,
And leaves his hardships to his wife and child.
" And I know something, as you are aware, of the science of accounts; if by your interest a means [of subsistence] could be afforded me, which might put me at ease, I should not be able to express my gratitude sufficiently to the end of my life." I replied, " O my friend ! the king's service has two sides to it, — hope of a livelihood, and terror for one's life; and it is contrary to the opinion of the wise, through such a hope to expose oneself to such a fear.
1 Here used for " died."

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Sa'di.
Stanza.
None in the poor man's hut demand Tax on his garden or his land. Be thou content with toil and woe, Or with thy entrails feed the crow. "
He replied, " These words that thou hast spoken do not apply to my case, nor hast thou returned an answer to my question. Hast thou not heard what they have said, ' that the hand of every one who chooses to act dishonestly trembles in rendering the account' ? "
Couplet.
God favors those who follow the right way, From a straight road I ne'er saw mortal stray.
" And the sages have said, ' Four kinds of persons are in deadly fear of four others : the brigand of the Sultan, and the thief of the watchman, and the adulterer of the informer, and the harlot of the superintendent of police;' and what fear have those of the settling, whose accounts are clear? "
Stanza.
Wouldst thou confine thy rival's power to harm
Thee at discharge ? then while thy trust remains, Be not too free; none shall thee then alarm.
'Tis the soiled raiment which, to cleanse from stains, Is struck on stones and asks the washer's pains.
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I answered, " Applicable to thy case is the story of that fox which people saw running away in violent trepidation.1 Some one said to him, ' What calamity has happened to cause thee so much alarm?' He replied, 'J have heard they are going to impress the camel.' They rejoined, ' O Shatter-brain ! what connection has a camel with thee, and what resemblance hast thou to it ? ' He answered, ' Peace ! for if the envious should, to serve their own ends, say, " This is a camel," and I should be taken, who would care about my release so as to inquire into my condition ? and before the antidote is brought from Irak, the person who is bitten by the snake may be dead.'2 And in the same way thou possessest merit, and good faith, and piety, and uprightness ; but the envious are in ambush, and the accusers are lurking in corners. If they should misrepresent thy fair qualities, and thou shouldst incur the king's displeasure and fall into disgrace, who would have power, in that situation of affairs, to speak for thee ? I look upon it as thy best course to secure the kingdom of contentment, and to abandon the idea of preferment, since the wise have said,
Couplet.
' Upon the sea 'tis true is boundless gain: Wouldst thou be safe, upon the shore remain.' "
1	Literally, " falling and rising."
2	The tiryak is an antidote against poison. Some think it is treacle; and others the bezoar-stone. This sentence is a proverb in common use.
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Sa'di.
When my friend heard these words he was displeased, and his countenance was overcast, and he began to utter words which bore marks of his vexation, saying, " What judgment, and profit, and understanding, and knowledge is this ? and the saying of the sages has turned out correct, in that they have said, ' Those are useful friends who continue so when we are in prison; for at our table all our enemies appear friends.'
Stanza.
Think not thy friend one who in fortune's hour Boasts of his friendship and fraternity.
Him I call friend who sums up all his power To aid thee in distress and misery."
I saw that he was troubled, and that my advice was taken in bad part. I went to the president of finance, and, in accordance with our former intimacy, I told him the case; in consequence of which he appointed my friend to some trifling office. Some time passed away; they saw the amenity of his disposition, and approved his excellent judgment. His affairs prospered, and he was appointed to a superior post; and in the same manner the star of his prosperity continued to ascend until he reached the summit of his desires, and became a confidential servant of his Majesty the Sultan, and the pointed-at by men's fingers, and one in whom the ministers of State placed their confidence. I rejoiced at his secure position and said,
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Couplet.
" Have no doubts because of trouble nor be thou discomfited ;
For the water of life's fountain1 springeth from a gloomy bed.
Couplet.
"Ah! ye brothers of misfortune! be not ye with grief oppressed,
Many are the secret mercies which with the All-bounteous rest.
Couplet.
"Sit not sad because that Time a fitful aspect weareth; Patience is most bitter, yet most sweet the fruit it beareth."
During this interval I happened to accompany a number of my friends on a journey to Hijaz.2 When I returned from the pilgrimage to Mecca he came out two stages to meet me. I saw that his outward appearance was one of distress, and that he wore the garb of a dervish. I said, " What is thy condition ? " He replied, "Just as thou said'st: a party became envious of me, and accused me of disloyal conduct; and the
1	Mohammedans believe in a fountain of life, to taste one drop of which bestows immortality. They say that Khizr, or Elias, who, they suppose, was the general of the first Alexander, discovered this fountain, and drank of it, and hence he can never die.
2	Arabia Petraea.

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king did not deign to inquire minutely into the explanation of the circumstances; and my former companions, and even my sincere friends, forbore to utter the truth, and forgot their long intimacy.
Stanza.
When one has fallen from high heaven's decree, The banded world will trample on his head; Then fawn and fold their hands respectfully, When they behold his steps by fortune led.
In short, I was subjected to all kinds of tortures till within this week that the good tidings of the safety of the pilgrims1 arrived, when they granted me release from grievous durance, with the confiscation of my hereditary estate." I said : " At that time thou wouldst not receive my suggestion, that the service of the king is like a sea-voyage, at once profitable and fraught with peril; where thou either wilt acquire a treasure, or perish amid the billows.
Couplet.
Or with both hands the merchant shall one day embrace the gold;
Or by the waves his lifeless form shall on the strand be rolled."
I did not think it right to lacerate his mental wounds further, or to sprinkle them with salt. I confined myself to these two couplets and said, l The pilgrims to Mecca.


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Stanza.
" Knewest thou not that thou wouldsi see the chains
upon thy feet, When a deaf ear thou turnedst on the counsels of the wise?
If the torture of the sting thou canst not with courage meet,
Place not thy finger in the hole where the sullen scorpion lies."
Story.
A person had reached perfection in the art of wrestling. He knew three hundred and sixty precious sleights in this art, and every day he wrestled with a different device. However, his heart was inclined toward the beauty of one of his pupils. He taught him three hundred and fifty-nine throws, all he knew save one, the teaching of which he deferred. The youth was perfect in skill and strength, and no one could withstand him, till he at length boasted before the Sultan that he allowed the superiority of his master over him only out of respect to his years, and what was due to him as an instructor, and that but for that he was not inferior in strength, and on a par with him in skill. The king was displeased at his breach of respect, and he commanded them to wrestle. A vast arena was selected. The great nobles and ministers of the king attended. The youth entered, like a furious elephant,

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with a shock that had his adversary been a mountain of iron would have uptorn it from its base. The master perceived that the young man was his superior in strength. He fastened on him with that curious grip which he had kept concealed from him. The youth knew not how to foil it. The preceptor lifted him with both hands from the ground, and raised him above his head, and dashed him on the ground. A shout of applause arose from the multitude. The king commanded them to bestow a robe of honor and reward on the master, and heaped reproaches on the youth, saying, "Thou hast presumed to encounter him who educated thee, and thou hast failed." He replied, " Sire ! my master overcame me, not by strength or power, but a small point was left in the art of wrestling which he withheld from me; and by this trifle he has to-day gotten the victory over me." The preceptor said, " I reserved it for such a day as this ; for the sages have said, 'Give not thy friend so much power that if one day he should become a foe, thou mayst not be able to resist him.' Hast thou not heard what once was said by one who had suffered wrong from a pupil of his own ?
Stanza.
' On earth there is no gratitude, I trow;
Or none, perhaps, to use it now pretend.
None learn of me the science of the bow, Who make me not their target in the end.'"

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A king gave an order to put an innocent person to death. He said, " O king ! for the anger which thou feelest against me, seek not thine own injury ! " The king asked, "How so?" He replied, "I shall suffer this pang but for a moment, and the guilt of it will attach to thee forever."
Quatrain.
Circling on, life's years have fled, as flies the breeze of morn;
Sadness and mirth, and foul and fair, for aye have passed away.
Dream'st thou, tyrant! thou hast wreaked on me thy rage and scorn ?
The burthen from my neck has passed, on thine must ever stay.
The king laughed and said, " In thy life thou never said'st a truer word than this." He then commanded the usual allowance for descendants of the Prophet to be got ready for him.
Story.
Abdu'l-Kadir Gilani1 laid his face on the pebbles in the sanctuary of the Kaba, and said, " O Lord ! pardon me; but if I am deserving of punishment, raise
1 This saintly personage was a celebrated Sufi of Baghdad, under whom Sa'di embraced the doctrine of the Mystics.
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me up at the resurrection blind, that I may not be ashamed in the sight of the righteous."
Stanza.
Humbly in dust I bow each day
My face, with wakening memory, O Thou ! whom I forget not, say, Dost thou bethink Thee e'er of me ?
Story.
A thief entered the house of a recluse. However much he searched, he found nothing. He turned back sadly and in despair, and was observed by the holy man, who cast the blanket on which he slept in the way of the thief, that he might not be disappointed.
Stanza.
The men of God's true faith, I've heard, Grieve not the hearts e'en of their foes.
When will this station be conferred On thee who dost thy friends oppose?
The friendship of the pure-minded, whether in presence or absence, is not such that they will find fault with thee behind thy back, and die for thee in thy presence.
Couplet.
Before thee like the lamb they gentle are :
Absent, than savage wolves more ruthless far.

Gulistan; or, Rose Garden. 271 Couplet.
They who the faults of others bring to you, Be sure they'll bear to others your faults too.
Story.
Certain travellers had agreed to journey together, and to share their pains and pleasures. I wished to join them. They withheld their consent. I said, " It is inconsistent with the benevolent habits of the eminent to avert the countenance from the society of the lowly, and to decline to be of service to them; and I feel in myself such power of exertion and energy that in the service of men I should be an active friend, not a weight on their minds.
Couplet.
What though Fm borne1 not in the camel throng, Yet will I strive to bear your loads along."
One of them said, " Let not thy heart be grieved at the answer thou hast received, for within the last few days a thief came in the guise of a dervish, and linked himself in the chain of our society."
Couplet.
What know men of the wearer, though they know the
dress full well ? The letter-writer only can the letter's purport tell.. 1 There is an attempt here at a pun.lm




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Inasmuch as the state of dervishes is one of security, they had no suspicion of his meddling propensities, and admitted him into companionship.
Distichs.
Rags are the external sign of holiness;
Sufficient — for men judge by outward dress.
Strive to do well, and what thou pleasest, wear;
Thy head a crown, thine arm a flag may bear.
Virtue lies not in sackcloth coarse and sad;
Be purely pious, and in satin clad :
True holiness consists in quitting vice,
The world and lust, — not dress ; — let this suffice.
Let valiant men their breasts with iron plate :
Weapons of war ill suit the effeminate.
" In short, one day, we had journeyed till dusk, and slept for the night under a castle's walls. The graceless thief took up the water-pot of one of his comrades, saying that he was going for a necessary purpose, and went, in truth, to plunder.
Couplet.
He'd fain with tattered garment for a dervish pass,
And makes the Kaba's1 pall the housings of an ass.
1 First the Khalifahs, then the Sultans of Egypt, and lastly those of Constantinople, have been in the habit of sending annually to Mecca a rich covering of brocade for the temple there, called the Kaba.

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As soon as he had got out of sight of the dervishes he scaled a bastion, and stole a casket. Before the day dawned, that dark-hearted one had got to a considerable distance, and his innocent companions were still asleep. In the morning they carried them all to the fortress and imprisoned them. From that day we have abjured society, and kept to the path of retirement, for, in solitude there is safety."
Stanza.
When but one member of a tribe has done
A foolish act, all bear alike disgrace, Seest thou how in the mead one ox alone Will lead astray the whole herd of a place ?
I said, " I thank God (may He be honored and glorified !) that I have not remained excluded from the beneficial influences of the dervishes, although I have been deprived of their society, and I have derived profit from this story, and this advice will be useful to such as I am through the whole of life."
Distichs.
Be there but one rough person in their train, For his misdeeds the wise will suffer pain. Should you a cistern with rose-water fill, A dog dropped in it would defile it still.
Story.
A religious recluse became the guest of a king. When they sate down to their meals, he ate less than

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his wont; and when they rose up to pray, he prayed longer than he was accustomed to, that they might have a greater opinion of his piety.
Couplet.
O Arab! much I fear thou at Mecca's shrine wilt never be,
For the road that thou art going is the road to Tartary.
When he returned to his own abode he ordered the cloth to be laid that they might eat. He had a son possessed of a ready wit, who said, " O my father ! didst thou eat nothing at the entertainment of the Sultan? " He replied, " I ate nothing in their sight to serve a purpose." The son rejoined, " Repeat thy prayers again, and make up for their omission, since thou hast done nothing that can serve any purpose."
Stanza.
Thy merits in thy palm thou dost display;
Thy faults beneath thy arm from sight withhold.
What wilt thou purchase, vain one ! in that day, The day of anguish, with thy feigned gold ?1
Story.
I remember that, in the time of my childhood, I was devout, and in the habit of keeping vigils, and eager to practise mortification and austerities. One night I
i Literally, " Base silver or coin."

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sat up in attendance on my father, and did not close my eyes the whole night, and held the precious Koran in my lap while the people around me slept. I said to my father, " Not one of these lifts up his head to perform a prayer.1 They are so profoundly asleep that you would say they were dead." He replied, " Life of thy father ! it were better if thou, too, wert asleep; rather than thou shouldst be backbiting people."
Stanza.
Naught but themselves can vain pretenders mark, For conceit's curtain intercepts their view.
Did God illume that which in them is dark,
Naught than themselves would wear a darker hue.
Story.
In a certain assembly they were extolling a person of eminence, and going to an extreme in praising his excellent qualities. He raised his head, and said, " I am that which I know myself to be."
Couplet.
Thou who wouldst sum my virtues up, enough thou'11 find
In outward semblance ; to my secret failings blind.
i Literally, " A double prayer," " binse precationes," as M. Seme-let remarks, like " deux Pater et deux Av6."Sa
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Stanza.
My person, in men's eyes, is fair to view;
But, for my inward faults, shame bows my head. The peacock, lauded for his brilliant hue, Is by his ugly feet discomfited.
Story.
They asked Lukman, " Of whom didst thou learn manners?" He replied, "From the unmannerly. Whatever I saw them do which I disapproved of, that I abstained from doing."
Stanza.
Not e'en in jest a playful word is said,
But to the wise, 'twill prove a fruitful theme. To fools, a hundred chapters may be read
Of grave import; to them they'll jesting seem.
Story.
i'V'ilS
They asked one of the Shaikhs of Damascus, "What is the true state of Sufiism ? " 1 He replied," Formerly they were a sect outwardly disturbed, but inwardly collected ; and at this day they are a tribe outwardly collected and inwardly disturbed."
i The Sufis are a sect of Mohammedan Mystics, whose opinions, with regard to the soul, the Deity, and creation, very much resemble the esoteric doctrines of the Brahmans. They look upon the soul as an emanation from the Deity, to be reabsorbed into its source, and regard that absorption as attainable by contemplation.9

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Stanza.
277
While ever roams from place to place thy heart, No peacefulness in solitude thou'lt see ;
Hast thou estates, wealth, rank, the trader's mart? Be thy heart God's — this solitude may be.
Story.
A king had reached the close of his life, and had no heir to succeed him. He made a will, that they should place the royal crown on the head of the first person who might enter the gates of the city in the morning, and should confide the government to him. It happened that the first person who entered the city gate was a beggar, who throughout his whole life had collected scrap after scrap, and sewn rag upon rag. The Pillars of the State, and ministers of the late king, executed his will, and bestowed on him the country and the treasure. The dervish carried on the government for a time, when some of the great nobles turned their necks from obeying him, and the princes of the surrounding countries rose up on every side to oppose him, and arrayed their armies against him. In short, his troops and his subjects were thrown into confusion, and a portion of his territory departed from his possession. The dervish was in a state of dejection at this circumstance, when one of his old friends, who was intimate with him in the time of his poverty, returned from a journey, and, finding him in this exalted posi-
Sa'di.
tion, said, "Thanks be to God (may He be honored and glorified !) that thy lofty destiny has aided thee, and thy auspicious fortune has led thee on, so that thy rose has come forth from the thorn, and the thorn from thy foot, and thou hast arrived at this rank, ' surely with calamity comes rejoicing.'1
Couplet.
The bud now blossoms; withered now is found : The tree now naked; now with leaves is crowned."
He replied, " O brother ! condole with me; for there is no room for felicitation. When thou sawest me, I was distressed for bread, and now I have the troubles of a world upon me."
Dis ticks.
Have we no wordly gear — 'tis grief and pain : Have we it — then its charms our feet enchain. Can we than this a plague more troublous find, Which absent, present, still afflicts the mind?
Stanza.
Wouldst thou be rich, seek but content to gain; For this a treasure is that ne'er will harm.
If in thy lap some Dives riches rain,
Let not thy heart with gratitude grow warm;
For, by the wisest, I have oft been told, —
The poor man's patience better is than gold.
l " After pain comes pleasure; " " Aprfes la peine le plaisir."

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YGulistan; or, Rose Garden.
279
Couplet.
A locust's leg, the poor ant's gift, is more
Than the wild ass dressed whole from Bahram's1 store.
Story.
Having become weary of the society of my friends at Damascus, I set out for the wilderness of Jerusalem, and associated with the brutes, until I was made prisoner by the Franks, who set me to work along with Jews at digging in the fosse of Tripolis, till one of the principal men of Aleppo, between whom and myself a former intimacy had subsisted, passed that way and recognized me, and said, " What state is this ? and how are you living ? " I replied,
Stanza.
" From men to mountain and to wild I fled Myself to heavenly converse to betake;
Conjecture now my state, that in a shed Of savages I must my dwelling make."
Couplet.
Better to live in chains with those we love, Than with the strange mid flow'rets gcfy to move.
1 Bahram, the sixth of that name, was a king of Persia, called Gor, from his fondness for hunting the wild ass. This couplet is a sort of Oriental version of the widow's mite.

280
Sa'di.
He took compassion on my state, and with ten dinars redeemed me from the bondage of the Franks, and took me along with him to Aleppo. He had a daughter, whom he united to me in the marriage-knot, with a portion of a hundred dinars. As time went on, the girl turned out of a bad temper, quarrelsome and unruly. She began to give a loose to her tongue, and to disturb my happiness, as they have said,
Distichs.
" In a good man's house an evil wife Is his hell above in this present life. From a vixen wife protect us well, Save us, O God! from the pains of hell."
At length she gave vent to reproaches, and said, " Art thou not he whom my father purchased from the Franks' prison for ten dinars?" I replied, "Yes ! he redeemed me with ten dinars, and sold me into thy hands for a hundred."
Distichs.
I've heard that once a man of high degree From a wolfs teeth and claws a lamb set free. That night its throat he severed with a knife, When thus complained the lamb's departing life, " Thou from the wolf didst save me then, but now, Too plainly I perceive the wolf art thou."
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VGulistan; or, Rose Garden. 281 Story.
One of the Syrian recluses had for years worshipped in the desert, and sustained life by feeding on the leaves of trees. The king of that region made a pilgrimage to visit him, and said, " If thou thinkest fit, I will prepare a place for thee in the city that thou mayest have greater conveniences for devotion than here, and that others may be benefited by the blessing of thy prayers, and may imitate thy virtuous acts." The devotee did not assent to these words. The nobles said, " To oblige the king, the proper course is for thee to come into the city for a few days and learn the nature of the place ; after which, if the serenity of thy precious time suffers disturbance from the society of others, thou wilt be still free to choose." They relate that the devotee entered the city, and that they prepared for him the garden of the king's own palace, a place delightsome to the mind, and suited to tranquillize the spirit.
Distichs.
Like beauty's cheek, bright shone its roses red; Its hyacinths — like fair ones' ringlets spread — Seemed babes, which from their mother milk ne'er drew,
In winter's cold so shrinkingly they grew.
Couplet.
And the branches — on them grew pomegranate-flowers Like fire, suspended there, mid verdant bowers.

282
Sa'di.
The king forthwith despatched a beautiful damsel to him.
Verse.
A young moon that e'en saints might lead astray, Angel in form, a peacock in display, When once beheld, not hermits could retain Their holy state, nor undisturbed remain.
In like manner, after her, the king sent a slave, a youth of rare beauty and of graceful proportions.
Stanza.
Round him, who seems cupbearer, people sink ; Of thirst they die, he gives them not to drink.
The eyes that see him, still unsated crave, As dropsy thirsts amid the Euphrates' wave.
The holy man began to feed on dainties and wear soft raiment, and to find gratification and enjoyment in fruits and perfumes, as well as to survey the beauty of the youth and of the damsel; and the wise have said, " The ringlets of the beautiful are the fetters of reason and a snare to the bird of intelligence."
Couplet.
In thy behoof, my heart, my faith, my intellect, I vow ; In truth, a subtle bird am 1; the snare this day art thou.


Gulistan; or, Rose Garden.
283
In short, the bliss of his tranquil state began to decline ; as they have said,
Stanza.
" All that exist — disciples, doctors, saints,
The pure and eloquent alike, all fail When once this world's base gear their minds attaints, As flies their legs in honey vainly trail."
At length the king felt a desire to visit him. He found the recluse altered in appearance from what he was before, with a florid complexion, and waxen fat, pillowed on a cushion of brocade, and the fairy-faced slave standing at his head, with a fan of peacock's feathers. The monarch was pleased at his felicitous state, and the conversation turned on a variety of subjects, till, at the close of it, the king said, " Of all the people in the world, I value these two sorts most — the learned and the devout." A philosophical and experienced vazir was present. He said, " O king ! friendship requires that thou shouldst do good to both these two orders of men — to the wise give gold, that they may study the more; and to the devout give nothing, that they may remain devout."
Couplet.
To the devout, nor pence nor gold divide;
If one receive it, seek another guide.
Stanza.
Kind manners, and a heart on God bestowed
Make up the saint, without alms begged or bread That piety bequeathes. What though no load Of turquoise-rings on Beauty's fingers shed Their ray, nor from her ear the shimmering gem Depends ; 'tis Beauty still, and needs not them.
Stanza,
O gentle dervish ! blest with mind serene,
Thou hast no need of alms or hermit's fare. Lady of beauteous face and graceful mien !
Thou well the turquoise-ring and gauds canst spare.
Couplet.
Seek I for goods which not to me belong; Then if men call me worldly they're not wrong.
Story.
In conformity with the preceding story, an affair of importance occurred to the king. He said, " If the termination of this matter be in accordance with my wishes, I will distribute so many dirams to holy men." When his desire was accomplished, it became incumbent on him to fulfil his vow according to the conditions. He gave a bag of dirams to one of his favorite servants, and told him to distribute them among devout personages. They say that the servant was
T
Gulistan; or, Rose Garden.
285
shrewd and intelligent. He went about the whole day, and returned at night, and, kissing the dirams, laid them before the king, saying, " However much I searched for the holy men, I could not find them." The king replied, " What tale is this ? I know that in this city there are four hundred saints." He answered, " O Lord of the earth ! the devout accept them not, and he who accepts them is not devout." The king laughed and said to his courtiers, " Strong as my good intentions are toward this body of godly men, and much as I wish to express my favor toward them, I am thwarted by a proportionate enmity and rejection of them on the part of this saucy fellow, and he has reason on his side."
Couplet.
When holy men accept of coin from thee,
Leave them, and seek some better devotee.
They asked a profoundly learned man his opinion as to pious bequests. He said, " If the allowance is received in order to tranquillize the mind, and obtain more leisure for devotion, it is lawful; but when people congregate for the sake of the endowment, it is unlawful."
Couplet.
For sacred leisure saints receive their bread, Not to gain food that ease is furnished.

286
Sa'di.
Story.
A disciple said to his spiritual guide, " What shall I do, for I am harassed by people through the frequency of their visits to me, and my precious moments are disturbed by their coming and going." He replied, " Lend to all who are poor, and demand a loan of all who are rich, and they will not come about thee again."
Couplet.
If Islam's van a beggar should precede, To China infidels would fly his greed.
Story.
A band of dissolute fellows came to find fault with a dervish, and used unwarrantable language, and wounded his feelings. He carried his complaint before the chief of his order, and said, " I have undergone such and such." His chief replied, " O son ! the patched robe of dervishes is the garment of resignation. Every one who in this garb endures not disappointment patiently is a pretender, and it is unlawful for him to wear the robe of the dervish.
Couplet.
A stone makes not great rivers turbid grow: When saints are vexed their shallowness they show.

cfo f
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Gulistan; or, Rose Garden.
Stanza.
28 7
Hast thou been injured? suffer it and clear
Thyself from guilt in pardoning other's sin. O brother ! since the end of all things here Is into dust to moulder, be thou in Like humble mould, ere yet the change begin."
Story.
(in verse.)
List to my tale ! In Baghdad once, dispute Between a flag and curtain rose. Its suit The banner, dusty and with toil oppressed, Urged; and the curtain, angry, thus addressed : " Myself and thou were comrades at one school; Both now are slaves 'neath the same monarch's rule. I in his service ne'er have rested, — still, Whate'er the time, I journey at his will; My foot is ever foremost in emprise ; Then why hast thou more honor in men's eyes ? With moon-faced slaves thy moments pass away; With jasmine-scented girls thou mak'st thy stay. I lie neglected still in servile hands, Tossed by the winds my head, my feet in bands." "The threshold is my coach," the curtain said, "Andne'er, like thee, to heaven raise I my head : He who exalts his neck with vain conceit, Hurls himself headlong from his boasted seat."
ill
pious man saw an athlete who was exasperated, and infuriated, foaming at the mouth. He said, "What is the matter with this man?" Some one answered, "Such a one has abused him." "What!" said the holy man, " this contemptible fellow can lift a stone of a thousand mans'1 weight, yet has not the power to support a word.
Boast not thy strength or manhood while thy heart Is swayed by impulse base ; — if man thou art, Or woman, matters naught; — but rather aim All mouths to sweeten, — thus deserve the name Of man; for manliness doth not consist In stopping others' voices with thy fist.
Stanza.
Though one could brain an elephant, yet he
Is not a man without humanity.
In earth the source of Adam's sons began;
Art thou not humble? then thou art not man."
Story.
A king was regarding a company of dervishes contemptuously. One of them, acute enough to divine his feelings, said, " O king ! we, in this world, are inferior
1 A man or maun of Tabriz is ten pounds.

Gulistan; or, Rose Garden.
289
to thee in military pomp, but enjoy more pleasure, and are equal with thee in death, and superior to thee in the day of resurrection.
Distichs.
The conqueror may in every wish succeed;
Of bread the dervish daily stands in need;
But in that hour when both return to clay,
Naught but their winding-sheet they take away.
When man makes up his load this realm to leave,
The beggar finds less cause than kings to grieve.
The outward mark of a dervish is a patched garment and shaven head; but his essential qualities are a.living heart and mortified passions.
Stanza.
Not at strife's door sits he; when thwarted, ne'er Starts up to contest; all unmoved his soul.
He is no saint who from the path would stir,
Though a huge stone should from a mountain roll.
The dervish's course of life is spent in commemorating, and thanking, and serving, and obeying God; and in beneficence and contentment; and in the acknowledgment of one God and in reliance on Him ; and in resignation and patience. Every one who is endued with these qualities is, in fact, a dervish, though dressed in a tunic. But a babbler, who neglects prayer, and is given to sensuality, and the gratification
of his appetite ; who spends his days till night-fall in the pursuit of licentiousness, and passes his night till day returns in careless slumber; eats whatever is set before him, and says whatever comes uppermost; is a profligate, though he wear the habit of a dervish.
Stanza.
O thou ! whose outer robe is falsehood, pride,
While inwardly thou art to virtue dead ; Thy curtain1 of seven colors put aside,
While th' inner house with mats is poorly spread,
Story,
(in verse.)
I saw some handfuls of the rose in bloom, With bands of grass suspended from a dome. I said, " What means this worthless grass, that it Should in the roses' fairy circle sit?" Then wept the grass and said, " Be still! and know The kind their old associates ne'er forego. Mine is no beauty, hue, or fragrance, true ! But in the garden of the Lord I grew." His ancient servant I, Reared by His bounty from the dust; Whate'er my quality,
1 It is customary in Persia to have a curtain at the portal of the house, the richness of which depends on the circumstances of the owner.
Gulistan; or, Rose Garden.
I'll in His favoring mercy trust.
No stock of worth is mine, Nor fund of worship, yet He will
A means of help divine ; When aid is past, He'll save me still.
Those who have power to free, Let their old slaves in freedom live,
Thou Glorious Majesty ! Me, too, Thy ancient slave, forgive. Sa'di! move thou to resignation's shrine, O man of God ! the path of God be thine. Hapless is he who from this haven turns, All doors shall spurn him who this portal spurns.
Stanza.
" Roast fowl to him that's sated will seem less Upon the board than leaves of garden cress. While, in the sight of helpless poverty, Boiled turnip will a roasted pullet be."
Story.
I never complained of the vicissitudes of fortune, nor suffered my face to be overcast at the revolution of the heavens, except once, when my feet were bare, and I had not the means of obtaining shoes. I came to the chief mosque of Kufah in a state of much dejection, and saw there a man who had no feet. I returned thanks to God and acknowledged his mercies, and endured my want of shoes with patience, and exclaimed,

2Q2
Sa'di.
Story.
A merchant met with the loss of a thousand dinars, and said to his son," Thou must not tell any one of this matter." The son replied, " O father ! it is thy command ; I will not tell; acquaint me, however, with the advantage to be derived from keeping the affair secret." The father answered, " In order that we may not have two misfortunes to encounter — first, the loss of our money; and secondly, the malignant rejoicings of our neighbors."
Couplet.
Do not to foes thy sufferings impart,
Lest, while they seem to grieve, they joy at heart.1
Story.
An intelligent young man, who possessed an ample stock of admirable accomplishments and a rare intellect, notwithstanding, uttered not a word whenever he was seated in the company of the wise. At length, his father said, " O son ! why dost not thou also say somewhat of that thou knowest?" He replied, "I fear lest they should ask me something of which I am ignorant, and I should bring on myself disgrace."
Stanza.
One day a Sufi (hast thou heard it told ?)
By chance was hammering nails into his shoe :
l Literally, " While they repeat the deprecatory formula, There is no power or strength but in God."
a

cto
YGulistan; or, Rose Garden
Then of his sleeve an officer caught hold,
And said, " Come thou ! and shoe my charger too
Couplet.
Art silent ? none can meddle with thee. When Thou once hast spoken, thou must prove it then,
Story.
A man with a harsh voice was reading the Koran in a loud tone. A sage passed by and asked, "What is thy monthly stipend ? " He replied, " Nothing." "Wherefore, then," asked the sage, "dost thou give thyself this trouble?" He replied, "I read for the sake of God." " Then," said the sage, " for God's sake ! read not."
Couplet.
If in this fashion the Koran you read, You'll mar the loveliness of Islam's creed.
Story,
They asked Hasan Maimandi, " How is it that, although Sultan Mahmud has so many handsome slaves, every one of whom is the wonder of the world, and the marvel of the age, he has not such a regard or affection for any one as for Ayaz, who is not remarkable for beauty?" He replied, "Whatever pleases the heart appears fair to the eye."1
294
Sa'di. Distichs.
The man for whom the Sultan shows esteem, Though bad in every act, will virtuous seem. But whom the monarch pleases to reject, None of his retinue will e'er affect.
Stanza.
When with antipathy we eye a man,
We see in Joseph's beauty, want of grace : And, prepossessed, should we a demon scan, He'd seem a cherub with an angel's face.
Story.
They shut up a parrot in a cage with a crow. The parrot was distressed at the ugly appearance of the other, and said, " What hateful form is this, and detested shape, and accursed face and unpolished manners? O crow of the desert! would that between me and thee were the space 'tunxt east and west! "
Stanza.
Should one at dawn arising thy face see,
'Twould change to twilight gloom that morning's mirth.
Such wretch as thou art should thy comrade be, But where could such a one be found on earth !
But still more strangely the crow, too, was harassed to death by the society of the parrot, and was utterly

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ir
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Gulistan; or, Rose Garden.
295
chagrined by it. Reciting the deprecatory formula, 41 There is no power nor strength but in God,"1 it complained of its fate, and, rubbing one upon the other the hands of vexation, it said, " What evil fate is this, and unlucky destiny, and fickleness of fortune ! It would have been commensurate with my deserts to have walked proudly along with another crow on the wall of a garden.
Couplet.
'Twill for a prison to the good suffice, To herd them with the worthless sons of vice.
What crime have I committed in punishment for which my fate has involved me in such a calamity, and imprisoned me with a conceited fool like this, at once ■worthless and fatuous ? "
Stanza.
All would that wall with loathing fly Which bore impressed thy effigy : And if thy lot in Eden fell, All others would make choice of Hell.
I have brought this example to show that, how strong soever the disgust a wise man may feel for a fool, a fool regards with a hundred times more aversion a wise man.
l This means, " There is no striving against fate."tJfJ


296
Sa'di.
Couplets.
A pious man, mid dance and song, was seated with the gay;
One of Balkh's beauties saw him there, and marked the mirth decay:
"Do we, then, weary thee?" he said, "at least, un-
cloud thy brow; For we, too, feel thy presence here is bitterness enow.
Quatrain.
This social band like roses is and lilies joined in one, And mid them thou, a withered stick, upspringest all alone;
Like winter's cruel cold art thou, or like an adverse blast, —
Thou sittest there like fallen snow, ice-bound and frozen fast."
Story.
A man had a beautiful wife, who died, and his wife's mother, a decrepit old woman, on account of the marriage-settlement,1 took up her abode, and fixed herself in his house. The man was vexed to death by her propinquity, yet he did not see how to get rid of her by reason of the settlement. Some of his friends came to inquire after him, and one of them said, " How dost
1 As he could not pay what he had covenanted to pay, when he married, his wife's relations indemnified themselves by saddling him with the old lady, his wife's mother.

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Gulistan; or, Rose Garden.
29 7
thou bear the loss of thy beloved one ? " He replied, "The not seeing my wife is not so intolerable to me as the seeing her mother."
Distichs.
The tree has lost its roses, but retains
Its thorn. The treasure's gone, the snake1 remains.
'Tis better on the lance-point fixed to see
One's eye, than to behold an enemy.
'Tis well a thousand friendships to erase
Could we thereby avoid our foeman's face.
Story.
I remember that in my youth I was passing along a street when I beheld a moon-faced beauty. The season was that of the month of July, when the fierce heat dried up the moisture of the mouth, and the scorching wind consumed the marrow of the bones. Through the weakness of human nature I was unable to support the power of the sun, and involuntarily took shelter under the shade of a wall, waiting to see if any one would relieve me from the pain I suffered, owing to the ardor of the sun's rays, and cool my flame with water. All of a sudden, from the dark portico of a house, I beheld a bright form appear, of such beauty that the tongue of eloquence would fail in narrating
1 It is a popular Oriental notioji that treasures are guarded by serpents.

1
298
Sa'di.
her charms. She came forth as morn succeeding a dark night, or as the waters of life issuing from the gloom. She held in her hand a cup of snow-water, in which she had mixed sugar and the juice of the grape. I know not whether she had perfumed it with her own roses, or distilled into it some drops from the bloom of her countenance. In short, I took the cup from her fair hand, and drained its contents, and received new life. " The thirst of my heart cannot be slaked with a drop of water, nor if I should drink rivers would it be lessened."
Stanza.
Most blest that happy one whose gaze intense Rests on such face at each successive mom ;
The drunk with wine at midnight may his sense Regain ; but not till the last day shall dawn Will love's intoxication reach its bourne.
Story.
They told to one of the Arabian kings the story of Laili and Majnun, and of the insanity which happened to him, so that, although possessed of high qualities and perfect eloquence, he betook himself to the desert and abandoned the reins of choice. After commanding them to bring him into his presence, the king began to rebuke him, saying, " What defect hast thou seen in the nobleness of man's nature that thou hast

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Gulistan; or, Rose Garden.
299
taken up the habits of an animal, and bidden adieu to the happiness of human society?" Majnun wept and said,
Verse.
" Oft have my friends reproached me for my love: The day will come they'll see her and approve.
Stanza.
Would that those who seek to blame me
Could thy face, O fairest! see ; Theirs would then the loss and shame be:
While amazed, intent on thee, They would wound their hands while they Careless with the orange1 play :
That the truth of the reality might testify to the appearance I claim for her !" The king was inspired with a desire to behold her beauty, in order to know what sort of person it was who was the cause of such mischief. He commanded, and they sought for her, and, searching through the Arab families, found her, and brought her before the king, in the court of the royal pavilion. The king surveyed her countenance, and beheld a person of a dark complexion and weak form. She appeared to him so contemptible that he thought the meanest of the servants of his harem superior to her in beauty and grace. Majnun acutely discerned
1 See poem, Yusuf and Zulaikha, page 504.
m •	.............
fis
300
Sa'di.
his thoughts and, said " 0 king ! it is requisite to survey the beauty of Laili from the window of the eye of Majnun, in order that the mystery of the spectacle may be revealed to you."
Distichs.
Unmoved with pity thou me hear'st complain; I need a comrade who can share my pain: The livelong day I'd then my woes recite; Wood with wood joined will ever burn more bright.
Verse.
" What passed within my hearing of the grove,
O forest leaves! did ye but learn, Ye'd mourn with me. My friends / tell him whom love Has sparedI would he did but burn With lover's flames ; he'd then my grief discern."
Verse.
Scars may be laughed at by the sound,
But to a fellow-sufferer reveal Thy anguish. Of the hornet's wound What reck they who did never feel Its sting ? Till fortune shall bring round Thy woes to thee, they will but seem The weak illusions of a dream. Do not my sufferings confound
With those of others. Canst thou deem

TD <
<
CO Uh
o
OQ §
o HGulistan; or, Rose Garden
1 This is a favorite comparison of Oriental poets. Rubbing salt on a wound is a proverbial expression with them.
Story.
(in verse.)
A gallant youth there was and fair
Pledged to a maid beyond compare ;
They on the sea, as poets tell,
Together in a whirlpool fell.
The boatman came the youth to save —
To snatch him from his watery grave:
But, mid those billows of despair,
He cried, " My love ! my love is there !
Save her, oh save ! " he said, and died;
But with his parting breath he cried,
" Not from that wretch love's story hear
Who love forgets when peril's near."
Together thus these lovers died.
Be told by him who love has tried ;
For Sa'di knows each whim and freak
Of love, — as well its ways can speak
As Baghdad's dwellers Arabic.
Hast thou a mistress? her then prize,
And on all others close thine eyes.
Could Majnun and his Laili back return,
They might love's story from this volume learn.
One holding salt1 can tell the pain of him Who has salt rubbed upon his wounded limb?
Story.
A king handed over his son to a teacher, and said, " This is my son; educate him as one of thine own sons." The preceptor spent some years in endeavoring to teach him without success, while his own sons were made perfect in learning and eloquence. The king took the preceptor to task, and said, "Thou hast acted contrary to thy agreement, and hast not been faithful to thy promise." He replied, " O King ! education is the same, but capacities differ."
Stanza.
Silver and gold 'tis true in stones are found ;
Yet not all stones the precious metals bear: Canopus shines to earth's most distant bound ; But here gives leather — scented leather there.1
Story.
I have heard of an old doctor who said to a pupil, " If the minds of the children of men were as much fixed on the Giver of subsistence as they are on the subsistence itself, they would rise above the angels."
Stanza.
Thou wast by God then not forgotten when Thou wast a seed — thy nature in suspense ;
i That is, the light of Canopus in one place causes the leather to be perfumed (a strange notion!), in another leaves it in its common state.
Gulistan; or, Rose Garden.
303
He gave thee soul and reason, wisdom, ken, Beauty and speech, reflection, judgment, sense ;
He on thy hand arrayed thy fingers ten,
And thy arms fastened to thy shoulders. Whence
Canst thou then think, O thou most weak of men ! He'd be unmindful of thy subsistence?
Story.
I saw the son of a rich man seated at the head of his father's sepulchre, and engaged in a dispute with the son of a poor man, and saying, " My father's sarcophagus is of stone, and the inscription colored with a pavement of alabaster and turquoise bricks. What resemblance has it to that of thy father ? which consists of a brick or two huddled together, with a few handfuls of dust sprinkled over it." The son of the poor man heard him, and answered, " Peace ! for before thy father can have moved himself under this heavy stone, my sire will have arrived in paradise. This is a saying of the Prophet: ' The death of the poor is repose.'
Couplet.
Doubtless the ass, on which they do impose The lightest burthen, also easiest goes.
Stanza.
The poor man, who the agony has borne Of famine's pangs, treads lightly to the door
fjfj
r
Sa'di.
Of death. While one from blessings torn —
From luxury and ease — will grieve the more To lose them. This is certain. Happier he Whom, like a captive, death from bonds sets free, Than great men, whom it hurries to captivity."
Maxims on the Duties of Societv.
maxim.
Riches are for the sake of making life comfortable, not life for the sake of amassing riches. I asked a wise man, " Who is fortunate and who unfortunate?" He replied, "The fortunate is he who sowed and reaped; the unfortunate he who died and abandoned."
Couplet.
Not for that worthless one a prayer afford,
Who life in hoarding spent—ne'er spent his hoard.
maxim.
Two men have labored fruitlessly and exerted themselves to no purpose. One is the man who has gained wealth without enjoying it; the other he who has acquired knowledge but has failed to practise it.
Distichs.
How much soe'er thou learn'st, 'tis all vain; Who practised not, still ignorant remain.

Gulistan; or, Rose Garden. 305
A quadruped, with volumes laden, is No whit the wiser or more sage for this : How can the witless animal discern, If books be piled on it ? or wood to burn ?
MAXIM.
Science is for the cultivation of religion, not for worldly enjoyments.
Couplet.
Who makes a gain of virtue, science, lore, Is one who garners up, then burns his store.
MAXIM.
Three things lack permanency, uncombined with three other things: wealth without trading; learning without instruction; and empire without a strict administration of justice.
Stanza.
By courteous speech, politeness, gentleness, Sometimes thou mayest direct the human will:
Anon by threats; for it oft profits less With sugar twice a hundred cups to fill, Than from one colocynth its bitters to distil.
MAXIM.
To show pity to the bad is to oppress the good, and to pardon oppressors is to tyrannize over the oppressed.Couplet.
When thou to base men giv'st encouragement, Thou shar'st their sins, since thou them aid hast lent,
MAXIM.
No reliance can be placed on the friendship of princes, nor must we plume ourselves on the sweet voices of children, since that is changed by a caprice, and these by a single slumber.
Couplet.
On the mistress of a thousand hearts, do not thy love bestow;
But if thou wilt, prepare eftsoons her friendship to forego.
MAXIM.
Reveal not to a friend every secret that thou pos-sessest. How knowest thou whether at some time he may not become an enemy ? Nor inflict on thy enemy every injury that is in thy power; perchance he may some day become thy friend. Tell not the secret that thou wouldst have continue hidden to any person, although he may be worthy of confidence ; for no one will be so careful of thy secret as thyself.
Stanza.
Better be silent, than thy purpose tell To others : and enjoin them secrecy.
Gulistan; or, Rose Garden.
307
O dolt! keep back the water at the well,
For the swollen stream to stop thou'lt vainly try. In private, utter not a single word Which thou in public wouldst regret were heard.
MAXIM.
Let thy words between two foes be such that if they were to become friends thou wouldst not be ashamed.
Distichs.
Like fire is strife betwixt two enemies: The luckless mischief-maker wood supplies. Struck with confusion and ashamed is he, If e'er the two belligerents agree. Can we in this aught rational discern — To light a fire which will ourselves first burn?
Stanza.
In talk with friends speak soft and low,
Lest thy bloodthirsty foeman thee should hear: A wall may front thee — true ! but dost thou know If there be not behind a listening ear?
MAXIM.
Whoever comes to an agreement with the enemies of his friends, does so with the intention of injuring the latter.
MAXIM.
Anger that has no limit causes terror, and unseasonable kindness does away with respect. Be not so severe as to cause disgust, nor so lenient as to make people presume.
Sternness and gentleness are best combined : The leech both salves and scarifies, you find. The sage is not too rigorous, nor yet Too mild, lest men their awe of him forget: He seeks not for himself too high a place; Nor will himself too suddenly abase.
MAXIM.
When, in transacting business, thou art in doubt, make choice of that side from which the least injury will result.
Distichs.
Couplet.
Reply not roughly to smooth language, nor Contend with him who knocks at peace's door.
Couplet.
Eschew that friend, if thou art wise, Who consorts with thy enemies.
T

Gulistan; or, Rose Garden. Distichs.
309
Once to his sire a shepherd said, " O Sage ! Teach me one maxim worthy of thy age." "Use gentleness," he said, "yet not so much, That the wolf be emboldened thee to clutch."
MAXIM.
Two persons are the foes of a state and of religion : a king without clemency, and a religious man without learning.
Couplet.
Ne'er to that king may states allegiance own, Who bows not humbly at th' Almighty's throne.
MAXIM.
When an enemy has tried every expedient in vain, he will pretend friendship, and then, by this pretext, execute designs which no enemy could have effected.
MAXIM.
When thou knowest tidings that will pain the heart of any one, be silent, so that another may be the first to convey them.
Couplet.
O nightingale ! spring's tidings breathe, 111 rumors to the owls bequeath.



310
Sa'di.
MAXIM.
Do not acquaint a king with the treason of any one unless when thou art assured that the disclosure will meet with his full approval, else thou art but laboring for thy own destruction.
Couplet.
Then, only then, to speak intend When speaking can effect thy end.
MAXIM.
He who gives advice to a conceited man is himself in need of counsel.
MAXIM.
Be not caught by the artifice of a foe, nor purchase pride of a flatterer; for the one has set the snare of hypocrisy, and the other has opened the mouth of greediness. The fool is puffed up with flattery, like a corpse whose inflated heels appear plump.
Stanza.
Heed not the flatterer's fulsome talk,
He from thee hopes some trifle to obtain;
Thou wilt, shouldst thou his wishes balk, Two hundred times as much of censure gain.

cio f
Y

>533
Gulistan; or, Rose Garden.
311
MAXIM.
Until some one points out to an orator his defects, his discourse will never be amended.
Couplet.
To vaunt of one's own speaking is not meet, At fools' approval and one's own conceit.
MAXIM.
Every one thinks his own judgment perfect, and his own son beautiful.
Verse.
A Jew and Mussulman once so contended
That laughter seized me as their contest grew. The true believer thus his cause defended :
" Is this bond false, then may I die a Jew ! " The Jew replied : " By Moses' books I vow that 'Tis true, or else a Mussulman am I!" So from earth's face were Wisdom's self to fly, Not one could be amongst us found t' allow that He judgment lacked, or himself stultify.
MAXIM.
Whosoever does no good when he has the ability to do it, in the time of inability to aid others will himself suffer distress.

^SfS?

312
Sa'di.
Couplet.
Ill-starred, indeed, is he who injures men: Is fortune adverse, he is friendless then.
MAXIM.
Affairs succeed by patience; and he that is hasty falleth headlong.
Distichs.
I've in the desert with these eyes beheld The hurrying pilgrim to the slow-stepped yield: The rapid courser in the rear remains, While the slow camel still its step maintains.
MAXIM.
There is no better ornament for the ignorant than silence, and did he but know this he would not be ignorant.
Stanza.
Hast thou not perfect excellence, 'tis best
To keep thy tongue in silence, for 'tis this Which shames a man; as lightness does attest The nut is empty, nor of value is.
Stanza.
Once, in these words, a fool rebuked an ass, — " Go, thou who all thy life hast lived in vain !"

313
w
Gulistan; or, Rose Garden.
A sage said to him, " Blockhead ! why dost pass Thy time in this ? Gibes will be all thy gain. To learn of thee a brute no power has :
Learn thou of brutes in silence to remain." *****
MAXIM.
Whoso sits with bad men will not see aught good.
Distichs.
With demons did an angel take his seat, He'd learn but terror, treason, and deceit: Thou from the bad wilt nothing learn but ill; The wolf will ne'er the furrier's office fill.
MAXIM.
Divulge not the secret faults of men; for at the same time that thou disgracest them thou wilt destroy thy own credit.
MAXIM.
He that has acquired learning and not practised what he has learnt, is like a man who ploughs but sows no seed.
MAXIM.
Worship cannot be performed by the body without the mind, and a shell without a kernel will not do for merchandise.

©MAXIM.
A weak man, who has the foolhardiness to contend with a strong one, assists his adversary in destroying himself.
314	Sa'di.
MAXIM.
Not every one who is ready at wrangling is correct in his dealings.
Couplet.
Forms enow beneath the mantle wear the outward
signs of grace; But if thou shouldst them unwimple, thou wouldst find a grandam's face.
MAXIM.
Not every one whose outward form is graceful possesses the graces of the mind; for action depends on the heart, not on the exterior.
Stanza.
From a man's qualities a day's enough
To make us of his learning's limit sure. Plume not thyself as though the hidden stuff
Thou of his heart hast reached \ nor be secure, For not e'en long revolving years can tell The foul things which in man unnoticed dwell.
Gulistan; or, Rose Garden. 315 Stanza.
He who was nursed in soft repose
Cannot with warriors to the battle go; Vain with his weakly arm to close, And struggle with an iron-wristed foe.
MAXIM.
Whoso will not listen to advice aims at hearing himself reproached.
Couplet.
He who will not to friends' advice attend, Must not complain when they him reprehend.
MAXIM.
Persons devoid of virtue cannot endure the sight of the virtuous; just as market curs, when they see dogs of the chase, bark at them, but dare not approach them.
MAXIM.
When a base fellow cannot vie with another in merit, he will attack him with malicious slander.
Couplet.
Weak envy absent virtue slanders, — Why ?
Since it is dumb, perforce, when it is by.
MAXIM,
Wise men eat late; devout men but half satisfy their appetites; and hermits take only enough to support life; the young eat till the dishes are removed, and the old till they sweat; but the Kalandars1 stuff till they have no room in their stomachs to breathe, and not a morsel is left on the table for any one.
Couplet.
The glutton for two nights no sleep can get The first from surfeit, the next from regret.
MAXIM.
*
Whoso slays not his enemy when he is in his power is his own enemy.
Couplet.
When a stone is in the hand ; on a stone the serpent's pate;
He is not a man of sense who to strike should hesitate.
There are, however, persons who think the opposite of this advisable, and have said, " It is better to pause in the execution of prisoners, inasmuch as the option [of slaying or pardoning them] is retained. Whereas, if a prisoner be put to death without deliberation, it is
l A sort of fakir.
Y

Gulistan; or, Rose Garden.
317
probable that the best course will be let slip, since the step is irremediable."
Couplets.
'Tis very easy one alive to slay;
Not so to give back life thou tak'st away:
Reason demands that archers patience show,
For shafts once shot return not to the bow.
MAXIM.
The sage who engages in controversy with ignorant people must not expect to be treated with honor; and if a fool should overpower a philosopher by his loquacity, it is not to be wondered at, for a common stone will break a jewel.
Couplet
What marvel is it if his spirits droop ?
A nightingale — and with him crows to coop !
Couplets.
What if a vagabond on merit rail ?
Let not the spirits of the worthy fail:
A common stone may break a golden cup;
Its value goes not down, the stone's not up.
MAXIM.
It is not right to estrange in a moment a friend whom it takes a lifetime to secure.
MAXIM.
Purpose without power is mere weakness and deception; and power without purpose is fatuity and insanity.
Couplet.
Have judgment, counsel, sense, and then bear rule ; Wealth, empire, are self-murder to the fool.
The liberal man, who enjoys and bestows, is better than the devotee, who fasts and lays by. Whoso abandons lust in order to gain acceptance with the world has fallen from venial desires into those which are unpardonable.
Couplet.
Hermits, who are not so through piety, Darken a glass and then attempt to see.
Couplet.
Little to little added much will grow :
The barn's store, grain by grain, is gathered so.
Many littles make a mickle, many drops a flood.
Triplet.
'Tis years before the pebble can put on The ruby's nature. — Wilt thou on a stone In one short moment mar what time has done ?
Y
3SS3?
Gulistan; or, Rose Garden.
3*9
MAXIM.
It is not right for a learned man to pass over leniently the foolish impertinences of the vulgar, for this is detrimental to both parties: the awe which the former ought to inspire is diminished, and the folly of the latter augmented.
Couplet.
Art thou with fools too courteous and too free,
Their pride and folly will augmented be.
MAXIM.
People forget the name of him whose bread they have not tasted during his lifetime. Joseph the just (Peace be on him !), during the famine in Egypt, would not eat so as to satisfy his appetite, that he might not forget the hungry. It is the poor widow that relishes the grapes, not the owner of the vineyard.1
Couplets.
He who in pleasure and abundance lives,
What knows he of the pang that hunger gives ?
He can affliction best appreciate,
Who has himself experienced the same state.
1 That is, We estimate blessings when we are deprived of them, and value highly what is beyond our reach.

....................................
I
320
Sa'di. Stanza.
O thou ! who rid'st a mettled courser, see
How toils, mid mire, the poor thorn-loaded ass ! From poor men's houses, let no fire for thee Be brought. The wreaths which from their chimney-pass
Are sighs wrung from their hearts by destiny.1
MAXIM.
Two things are impossible: to obtain more food than what Providence destines for us; and to die before the time known to God.
Stanza.
Fate is not altered by a thousand sighs;
Complain or render thanks — arrive it will: The angel at whose bidding winds arise
Cares little for the widow's lamp, if still It burns, or by the storm extinguished dies.
MAXIM.
The envious man begrudgeth God's blessings, and is the foe of the innocent.
Stanza.
A wretched crack-brained fellow once I saw, Who slandered one of lofty dignity;
1 That is, do not wring from the poor the smallest trifle. The comparison between smoke and a sigh is a simile in which Orientals delight, inept as it appears to us.

Gulistan; or, Rose Garden.
321
I said, " Good sir ! I grant thee that a flaw May in thy fortunes be observed, — but why Impute it to the man who lives more happily ? "
Second Stanza.
Oh ! on the envious man invoke no curse, For of himself, poor wretch ! accursed is he ;
On him no hatred can inflict aught worse Than his self-fed, self-torturing enmity.
MAXIM.
A student without the inclination to learn is a lover without money; and a pilgrim without spirituality is a bird without wings; and a devotee without learning is a house without a door.
SELECTIONS FROM THE BUSTAN.
The Moth and the Flame.1
One night—I do remember — when mine eyes Closed not. I heard a talking in this wise :
Moth said to Lamp-flame, " Ah, my Well-beloved ! I am a Lover; this is no surprise
" If I do weep and burn; but thou ! but thou ! Why do I see thee weeping, burning, now ?"
The Lamp replied, " Shirin-i-man / Soft Lover ! The honey of my life melts from my brow ! "
It said, " Oh, tearful Lover ! cease to sigh, Passion's worst pangs thou knowest not, as I:
Leave claiming, leave lamenting, or come boldly ! Nor power, nor patience of Love's mystery
" Hast thou, who fliest from my naked fire, Desiring, yet afraid of thy Desire !
Hither and thither dost thou flutter, fearful; But I consume, exhale, glow, and expire.
" If flame of Love thy silver feathers scorch, Look upon me, who am Love's kindled Torch !
i Translated by Sir Edwin Arnold. This celebrated poem is usually called " The Moth and the Candle."
323



I 1
!i
ill i

324
Sa'di.
Think on the blaze and torrent of my burning, Forget my splendor, lighting court and porch !"
There lingered some little of the night, When one of Pari-face put out that light;
The smoke rose like a parting soul: it whispered, " Look, Lover ! now, indeed, Love endeth right.
"This is the Road ! Rah in ast! learn of me;
Dying thou gainest Love's best ecstasy ! "
*******
Make over Lover slain no lamentation ; Cry Shukur / thanks ! — He is accepted ; he.
Oh, if thou be'st true Lover, wash not hand From that dear stain of Love ! from worldly brand
Of wealth and self-love wash it! At the last Those win, who spite of Fortune's tempests, stand,
Glad to wreck all for Love. I say to thee — I, Sa'di— launch not on that boundless Sea !
But, if thou puttest forth, hoist sail, quit anchor ! To storm and wave trust thyself hardily !
Story of the Pearl.1
From a cloud there descended a droplet of rain j 'Twas ashamed when it saw the expanse of the main, Saying, " Who may I be, where the sea has its run? If the sea has existence, I truly have none! "
1 Translations by G. S. Davie.


Bust an.	325
Since in its own eyes the drop humble appeared, In its bosom, a shell with its life the drop reared; The sky brought the work with success to a close, And a famed royal pearl from the rain-drop arose. Because it was humble it excellence gained; Patiently waiting till success was obtained.
The Death of Sa'di's Son.
At Sana1 a young child of mine melted away; Of all that occurred to me, what shall I say? A Joseph-like picture the Fates never gave, But was, Jonah-like, gulped by the fish of the grave. In this garden, a cypress ne'er reached any height, But the tempests of fate pulled its roots from their site. No wonder that roses will blow on the ground, When, beneath it, so many rose-bodies sleep sound ! To my heart, I said, " Die, thou disgrace to mankind ! The child goes off pure, the old man, vile in mind !"
Out of love and distress, for his stature alone, From his tomb I extracted a panel of stone. On account of my dread, in that dark, narrow place, My disconsolate state changed the hue of my face. When I came to myself, from that horrible fear, From my darling, loved child, this arrived at my ear: " If this region of darkness produced in you fright, Take care, when you enter, to carry a light! " If you wish that the night of the tomb should appear
1 Sana, the capital ot Arabia Felix, where Sa'di's second marriage occurred.
Bright as day, light the lamp of your actions while here ! Shakes the husbandman's body, from fever and care, Peradventure the palms should not luscious dates bear. Some covetous men the opinion maintain, That, without sowing wheat, they'll a harvest obtain ! He who planted the root, Sa'di, on the fruit feeds ! He will gather the harvest, who scattered the seeds !
Patience and Contentment.
In a generous man's spirit perfection is bred ; If no money he owns, what's the harm or the dread? Were a miser with Croesus in riches to range, Do not think that his miserly spirit would change ! If a liberal person obtains not his bread, His spirit is rich, just as if he were fed. The giving's the ground and the means, the sown field ; Bestow ! that the root fertile branches may yield. I would wonder where God, who makes man out of clay,
To make his humanity vanish away, In holding up wealth, do not strive to excel! For water when stagnant emits a bad smell. In munificence labor ! for water that flows, By the favor of Heaven to a mighty flood grows ! If a miser should fall from his wealth and estate, Very rarely again will his riches be great. If you are a jewel of worth, do not fret! For time will not cause your existence to set. A clod may be lying exposed on the way;
T

Bustan.
32 7
Yet I do not see any one heed to it pay. If a clipping of gold should escape from the shears, With a candle they search for it, till it appears. From the heart of a stone they can crystal obtain; Where under the rust does a mirror remain? The manners must please and exhibit much grace, For coming and going are Fortune and Place.
The Sufi and the Slanderer.
Said a man to a Sufi, with sanctity blest, " You know not what some one behind you expressed." He said, " Silence ! O brother ! and sleep it away ! It is best not to know what your enemies say ! Those people who carry the words of a foe, Than enemies, truly, more enmity show. The remarks of a foe, to a friend no one bears, Excepting the man who his enmity shares. A foe cannot speak with such hardiness to me, That from hearing, my body should shivering be ! You are worse than a foe ! with your lips you unfold The same that the foe to you privately told ! " A talebearer gives to old war a fresh life, And urges a good, gentle person to strife. Fly away from that comrade, while strength in you lies ! Who says unto sleeping sedition, " Arise ! " A man in a pit, with his feet firmly bound, Is better than spreading disturbance around. Between two, an encounter resembles a fire,fill ................... -— .............................
Sa'di.
Sympathy for Orphans.
A shade o'er the head of the orphan boy put! Disperse all his sighs and his sorrows uproot! You know not why he has this helplessness seen ! Does a tree without root ever show itself green ? When you see the sad head of an orphan bent low, On the face of your son, do not kisses bestow ! If an orphan should weep, who will purchase relief? And should he be vexed, who will share in his grief? Take care ! lest he weeps, for the great throne on high Will tremble and shake, should an orphan child cry ! By kindness, the tears from his pure eyes displace ! By compassion, disperse all the dust from his face ! If his own sheltering shadow has gone from his head, Take him under your own fostering shadow instead ! I at that time the head of a monarch possessed, When I let it recline on my own father's breast; If a fly on my body made bold to alight, The hearts of a number were grieved at the sight. If now to a dungeon they captive me bear, Not one of my friends to assist me would care. The sufferings of poor orphan children I know; In my childhood, my father to God had to go.
Dealing with Enemies.
Until your diplomacy terminates right, It is better to flatter your foe, than to fight. When, by force, you're unable to vanquish your foes, By favors, the portal of strife you must close !

Bustan.
329
If you fear lest you be by an enemy stung, With the charm of munificence, tie up his tongue ! Give your enemy money ? — not thoms from a hedge ! For munificence blunts all the teeth that have edge. By skill, you can coax and enjoy earthly bliss; The hand you can't bite, it is proper to kiss ! By management, Rustem will come to the noose, From whose coil, Asfandyar1 could not cast himself loose.
You can find the occasion your foe's skin to rend; Take care of him ! then, as you would of a friend. Be cautious in fighting with one you despise ! From a drop, I have oft seen a torrent arise. While you can, let not knots on your eyebrows be seen !
An opponent is best as a friend, although mean. His foe shows delight, and his friend shows distress, Whose friends are, in count, than his enemies less. With an army exceeding your own, do not fight! For you can't with your finger a lancet's point smite. And should you be stronger in war than your foe, To the weak, 'tis unmanly oppression to show ! Though you've lion-like hands and an elephant's force, Peace is better than war, as a matter of course. When the hand has by every deception been torn, The hand to the sword may be lawfully borne. Should your foe wish for peace, his request do not
1 Asfandyar, a Persian king, son of Darius-Hystaspes, lassoed by Rustem.
spurn!
ST
330
Sa'di.
And should he seek battle, the reins do not turn ! For should he resolve to resist in the field, The strength and the awe of a thousand you'll wield. If his foot he has placed in the stirrup of war, You won't be arraigned at the Great Judgment Bar. Be prepared, too, for war, should sedition awake ! For kindness to blackguards is quite a mistake. If you talk in an affable way to a wretch, I^is presumption and arrogance higher will stretch. When your enemy, vanquished, approaches your gate, Cast revenge from your heart and cast ire from your pate !
You should kindness bestow when he asks for your care;
Be gracious ! and of his deceptions, beware ! From an ag£d man's counselling turn not away ! For he knows his work well who has lived to be gray ! And should they remove from its site the stronghold— The youth with the sword and with wisdom the old — In the thick of the fight, bear a refuge in mind ! What know you which side will the victory find ? When you see that your army has lost in the strife, Alone, do not cast to the wind your sweet life ! Should your place be the border, make running your care !
And if in the middle, the foe's raiment wear !
If you number two thousand—two hundred your foe,—
When night has arrived from his clime you should go !
At night, Fifty horsemen from lying in wait,
Like Five Hundred, a noise on the ground will create.



Bustan.
331
When you wish to accomplish some marches by night, First, look for the ambushes, hidden from sight! When one of two armies has marched for a day, The strength from his hands will have dwindled away; At your leisure the army exhausted attack ! For the fool has himself placed a load on his back. When you've vanquished your foe, do not lower your flag!
Lest again he should gather his forces, and brag. In pursuit of the fugitives, go not too far ! For you should not lose sight of your comrades in war. When the air, from war's dust, like a cloud to you shows, Around you, with spears and with swords, they will close.
From searching for plunder, the soldier refrains, Who, alone, at the back of the monarch remains. To an army, the duty of guarding the king, Is better than fight in the battle-field's ring.
Of Sa'di's Journey to Hindustan and the Depravity of Idolatry.
An ivory idol I saw at Somnat,1 Begemmed, as in paganish times was Monat.2 So well had the sculptor its features designed, That an image more perfect no mortal could find. Caravans from each district were moving along;
1	Somnat, a famous Hindu temple in Guzerat, destroyed by Mahmud of Ghazni.
2	Monat, one of the chief idols of pagan Arabia.

332
Sa'di.
To look at that spiritless image they throng. Kings of China and Chighil, like Sa'di, forsooth ! From that hard-hearted idol were longing for truth. Men of eloquence, gathered from every place, Were beseeching in front of that dumb idol's face. I was helpless to clear up the circumstance, how The Animate should to the inanimate bow? To a pagan with whom I had something to do — A companion well spoken, a chum of mine, too — I remarked in a whisper, " O Brahmin, so wise ! At the scenes in this place I experience surprise ! About this helpless form they are crazed in their mind, And in error's deep pit are as captives confined. Its hands have no strength, and its feet have no pace; And if thrown on the ground 'twould not rise from its place.
Don't you see that its eyes are but amber, let in? To seek for good faith in the blind is a sin ! " That friend at my speech to an enemy turned; He seized me, and, fire-like, from anger he burned. He told all the pagans and temple old men; I saw not my welfare in that meeting then. Since the crooked road seemed unto them to be right, The straight road very crooked appeared in their sight; For although a good man may be pious and wise, He's an ignorant fool in the ignorant's eyes. I was helpless to aid as a man being drowned; Except in abasement no method I found. When you see that a fool has malevolence shown, Resignation and meekness give safety alone.

Bust an.
333
11
The chief of the Brahmins I praised to the skies : "Of the Zend and Asta1 oh, expounder most wise ! With this idol's appearance I'm satisfied, too; For the face and the features are charming to view. Its figure appears very choice in my sight; But regarding the truth I am ignorant, quite. I am here as a traveller a very short while, And a stranger knows seldom the good from the vile. You're the queen of the chess-board and therefore aware; And the monarch's adviser of this temple fair. To worship by mimicking, doubtless, is wrong ; Oh, happy the pilgrim whose knowledge is strong ! What truths in the figure of this idol lie ? For the chief of its worshippers, truly, ami!" The face of the old Brahmin glowed with delight; He was pleased and said, " Oh, thou whose statements are right !
Your question is proper, your action is wise — Whoever seeks truth will to happiness rise. Like yourself, too, on many a journey I've been, And idols not knowing themselves I have seen, Save this, which each morning, just where it now stands, To the great God of Justice upraises its hands ! And if you are willing, remain the night here ! And to-morrow, the secret to you will be clear." At the chief Brahmin's bidding I tarried all night; In the well of misfortune, like Bizhan's2 my plight.
1	Zend and Asta, religious books of the Magi.
2	Bizhan, grandson of Rustem, confined in a well by Afrasiab for being caught in his palace in company with his daughter.
w334
Sa'di.
The night seemed as long as the last Judgment Day;
The pagans, unwashed, round me feigning to pray. The priests very carefully water did shun; Their armpits like carrion exposed in the sun ! Perhaps a great sin I had done, long before, That I on that night so much punishment bore. All the night I was racked in this prison of grief, With one hand on my heart, one in prayer for relief; When the drummer, with suddenness, beat his loud drum,
And the cock crowed the fate of the Brahmin to come.
Unresisted, the black-coated preacher, the night, Drew forth from his scabbard the sword of daylight. On this tinder, the morning fire happened to fall, And the world in a moment was brilliant to all. You'd have said that all over the country of Zang,1 From a corner, the Tartars had suddenly sprung ! The pagans depraved, with unpurified face, Came from door, street, and plain to the worshipping-place.
The city and lanes were of people bereft; In the temple, no room for a needle was left. I was troubled from rage and from sleeplessness dazed, When the idol its hands upward, suddenly, raised. All at once, from the people, there rose such a shout, You'd have said that the sea in a rage had boiled out.
1 Zang, Zanzibar, in Africa.
Bustan.
335
When the temple became from the multitude free, The Brahmin all smiles gazed intently at me : " I am sure that your scruples have vanished," he said, "Truth has made itself manifest, falsehood has fled." When I saw he was slave to an ignorant whim, And that fancies absurd were established in him, Respecting the truth, I no more could reveal, For from scoffers, 'tis proper the truth to conceal. When you find yourself under a tyrant's command, It would scarcely be manly to break your own hand. I wept for a time, that he might be deceived, And said, " At the statement I made, I am grieved ! " At my weeping, the pagans' hearts merciful proved — Is it strange that a stone by the torrent is moved ? In attendance, they ran to me, very much pleased ; And in doing me honor my hands they all seized. Asking pardon I went to the image of bone — In a chair made of gold on a teak-timber throne — A kiss to the hand of the idol I gave, Saying, " Curse it and every idolatrous slave !" A pagan I was for a little, in name; In discussing the Zend, I a Brahmin became ! When myself, " one of trust," in the temple I found, I could scarcely from joy keep myself on the ground.
I fastened the door of the temple one night, And, scorpion-like, ran to the left and the right. All under and over the throne I then pried, And a curtain embroidered with gold I espied ; A fire-temple prelate in rear of the screen, With the end of a rope in his hands, could be seen.t^j
m

m
336
Sa'di.
The state of affairs I at once saw aright — Like David1 when steel grew like wax in his sight. For, of course, he has only the rope to depress, When the idol upraises its hands for redress ! Ashamed was the Brahmin at seeing my face — For to have any secret exposed 's a disgrace. He bolted, and I in pursuit of him fell, And speedily tumbled him into a well; For I knew that the Brahmin escaping alive, To compass my death would incessantly strive. And were I despatched he would happiness feel, Lest, living, I might his base secret reveal. When you know of the business a villain has planned, Put it out of his power, when he falls to your hand. For if to that blackguard reprieve you should give, He will not desire that you longer should live. When at service he places his head at your gate, If he can, he will surely your head amputate ! Your feet, in the track of a cheat do not place ! If you do, and discover him, show him no grace ! I despatched the impostor with stones, without dread, For tales are not told by a man when he's dead. When I found that I caused a disturbance to spread, I abandoned that country and hastily fled. If a fire in a cane-brake you cause to rise, Look out for the tigers therein, if you're wise ! The young of a man-biting snake do not slay ! If you do, in the same dwelling-place do not stay !
1 David was supposed to be able to make iron as soft as wax by his touch.

Gfc)
T
Bust an.
337
When you've managed a hive, full of bees, to excite, Run away from the spot! or you'll suffer their spite. At one sharper than you, don't an arrow despatch ! When you've done it, your skirt1 in your teeth you
should catch ! No better advice Sa'di's pages contain;
" When a wall's undermined, do not near it remain !"
I travelled to Sind, after that Judgment Day; By Yemen and Mecca I thence took my way. From the whole of the bitterness, Fate made me meet, My mouth till to-day has not shown itself sweet. By the aiding of Bu-Bakar-Sad's fortune fair — Whose like not a mother has borne nor will bear — From the sky's cruel hardness, for justice I sought; In this shadow diffuser, a refuge I got. Like a slave, for the empire I fervently pray :
" O God, cause this shadow forever to stay ! " He applied not the salve to my wound's need alone,
But becoming the bounty and favor his own. Meet thanks for his favors, when could I repeat ? Even if in his service my head changed to feet!
When these miseries past I experienced joy; Yet some of the subjects my conscience annoy. One is, when the hand of petition and praise, To the shrine of the Knower of Secrets I raise, The thoughts of that puppet of China arise,
1 To be better able to run away by catching up the skirt in the teeth. It is a common custom to tuck up the skirt and fasten it in the girdle round the loins.

J? \ VSa di
And cover with dust my self-valuing eyes; I know that the hand I stretched forth to the shrine Was not lifted by any exertion of mine ! Men of sanctity do not their hands upward bring, But the powers unseen pull the end of the string. Ope's the doors of devotion and well-doing, still, Every man has not power a good work to fulfil. This same is a bar; for to court to repair, Is improper, except the king's order you bear. No man can the great key of destiny own, For absolute power is the Maker's alone. Hence, oh travelling man on the straight path Divine ! The favor is God the Creator's, not thine. Since, unseen, He created your mind pure and wise, From your nature no action depraved can arise. The same who has poison produced in the snake, The sweetness produced by the bee, too, did make. When He wishes to change to a desert your land, He first makes the people distressed at your hand; And should His compassion upon you descend, To the people through you He will comfort extend. That you walk the right road do not boast, I advise ! For the Fates took your hand, and you managed to rise. By these words you will benefit if you attend; You will reach pious men if their pathway you wend. You will get a good place if the Fates are your guide; On the table of honor rich fare they'll provide. And yet 'tis not right that you eat all alone, For the poor, helpless Dervish some thought should be shown.SI <
£ x
HAFIZ.
During the golden age of Persian poetry there was no poet more popular than Hafiz, the greatest lyric writer of Persia. The exact dates of his birth and death are unknown, but he was born in his beloved city of Shiraz, in the first part of the fourteenth century, and died, according to the inscription or chronogram on his tomb, in 13881 a.d. His biographers say that he did not live later than 1391, thus making him an exact contemporary of Chaucer.
Hafiz, from the Arabic word for memory, was his poetical name and signified that he knew by heart the Koran, his real name being Shams-ud-Din Mohammad, which means Son of Faith. There is very little accurate knowledge of his early or domestic life, but there is a tradition that he was the son of a baker in Shiraz; at all events he seems to have lived a life of self-imposed poverty, for he regarded it as necessary to genius.
In the following story we find the first evidence of his gift for song. His uncle began a poem on Sufism and could not get beyond the first line. Hafiz, during his uncle's absence, finished the verse, and when this was discovered, his uncle, although annoyed, ordered Hafiz to finish the poem, at the same time cursing him and his works, exclaiming, " They shall bring the curse of insanity on all who read them !" and some people believe that this curse actually clings round his verses. Indeed, he has been compared to Anacreon " with his maddening spell," and even is said to have quaffed the cup of immortality. The legend is this : —
1 Sir Gore Ouseley's statement.
339
w1
i
I!
M
340
Hafi^.
"About four leagues from the city of Shiraz is a place called Pir-i-sabz, or the ' Green Old Man,1 and a popular superstition prevailed that whoever watched there forty nights without sleep would become a great poet. Hafiz, when a youth, resolved to try the adventure; he was at this time in love with a beautiful ' fair one,' whose name of Shakhi Nebat, expressed a ' branch of sugar cane;' but he had a powerful rival in the Prince of Shiraz. Like Ferhad, the lover of Shirin, he was not to be daunted by the rank of him who pretended to the smiles of his charming favorite. Every morning he walked before the house of his coy mistress, anxiously watching for some sign of recognition which might give him hope ; at noon he rested, and at night repaired to the place of the 'green old man,1 and there took up his watchful station.
" This he continued for thirty-nine nights, and on the fortieth morning was charmed to observe that his mistress beckoned to him from the balcony, and invited him to enter. She received him with enthusiasm, declaring her preference of a bright genius to the son of a king. On the approach of night he hurried away, bent on finishing the adventure. Early on the morning, after his agitated fortieth night, the young poet perceived an aged man approaching. He could not see from whence he came, and could scarcely define his figure, which was wrapt in a green mantle; in his hand he bore a cup containing a crystal liquor, which sparkled and foamed as if it would overleap its narrow bounds. The aged man held out the vase to Hafiz, who, seizing it with avidity, drank an inspiring draught, and found in it the gift of immortal poesy.11
At one time Hafiz became a teacher of the Koran in a college in Baghdad, and here the poet read from his own verses, the"fame of which drew great numbers of pupils to him. Indeed he himself says, "O Hafiz! the fame of thine enchanting witchery hath reached the bounds of Egypt and China, and the extremities of Kai and Rum."

T
Haft.
341
On one occasion he started to visit India at the invitation of the Sultan Mahmud Shah Ben Meni, but fell among robbers and was stripped of everything. He was rescued by two merchants who knew of his fame. In their company he embarked for India at Hormaz on the Persian Gulf; but the ship was wrecked and Hafiz, escaping, returned to Shiraz. Hafiz wrote during turbulent times. Shiraz, which he seems to have loved no less than Dante loved Florence, was conquered five or six times; kings came and went and the bloody drama moved on, yet there is hardly a reference to it in his poems. His first patron, Abu Ishak, was beheaded in front of the ruins of Persep-olis, a tragedy evidently seen by the poet. In 1388 the great Timur1 (Tamerlane) overran ancient Persia, and, it is said, emphasized his victory by a tower of 90,000 human heads. And this terrible conqueror ordered Hafiz to be brought before him because of the following line in his famous ode :2 —
"For the black mole on thy cheek, I would give the cities of Samarkand and Bokhara."
" Art thou the man," Timur cried, " who has been bold enough to offer my two great cities, Samarkand and Bokhara, for the black mole on the cheek of thy mistress ? " "Yes, sir," replied the undaunted poet, "and by such acts of generosity have I been reduced to my present state of destitution, and compelled to solicit your assistance." This reply so pleased the astonished ruler that he dismissed the poet with a princely gift.
Hafiz was married, and in an ode laments his wife's death,3 as he does that also of an unmarried son.4 Of his wife he writes, " Then said my heart, I will rest me in this city which is illuminated by her presence; already her feet were bent upon a longer journey and my poor heart
1	A descendant of Genghis Khan, the Mongol warrior.
2	See page 346.	8 See page 378.
4 See page 372.
342
Hafii.
knew it not." And in the following expression of his love for her he has been compared to Shakespeare: " Open my grave when I am dead, and thou shalt see a cloud of smoke rising out from it; then shalt thou know that the fire still burns in my dead heart — yea, it has set my very winding sheet alight."1
Unlike Sa'di, Hafiz, with one or two unfortunate exceptions,2 could not be persuaded to leave Shiraz, of which he sings: —
" May every blessing be the lot O fair Shiraz, earth's loveliest spot! O Heaven! bid Time its beauties spare, Nor print his wasteful traces there.
" Still be thou blest of Him that gave Thy stream, sweet Ruknabad, whose wave Can every human ill assuage, And life prolong to Chizer's age.
" And oh ! the gale that wings its way 'Twixt Jaffrabad and Moscalla, How sweet a perfume does it bear I How grateful is its amber air!
" Ye who mysterious joys would taste, Come to this sacred city — haste ; Its saints, its sages, seek to know, Whose breasts with heavenly rapture glow.
" And say, sweet gale— for thou canst tell — With lovely Laili was it well, When last you passed the maiden by, Of wayward will and witching eye ?
" Why, Hafiz, when you feared the day That tore you from her arms away, Oh I why so thankless for the hours You passed in Laili's lovely bowers ? "
1	See page 384, Ode XXXVI.
2	See page 356, Ode VIII.
p^jgga^SBSS

Haft.
343
When Hafiz died in 1389 his enemies refused his body the customary religious rites of burial, because of his fearless writings, and his early manner of living, which scandalized the orthodox. But the matter was settled by drawing lots from his own works. A child drew a slip of paper from a bowl, containing other slips, upon which was written: —
" Withdraw not your steps from the obsequies of Hafiz, Though immersed in sin he will rise into Paradise."
And so Hafiz was buried in consecrated ground in Mos-calla on the banks of the Ruknabad, about two miles from Sa'di's tomb. Sixty years later Sultan Baber erected over his grave a monument of white marble. On the oblong marble slab which marks the poet's grave are inscribed two odes from his Divan. One is in the centre, and the other around the margin, sculptured in beautiful characters.1
Hafiz's Divan has been consulted just as if it were an oracle. Kings have travelled to the poet's tomb to read their fate in the beautiful volume which is kept there, and a certain formula is said to be used. The questioner first breathes over the book, and says : —
" O Hafiz of Shiraz, impart Foreknowledge to my anxious heart."
Then with closed eyes the book is opened at random, and the first couplet he sees is read as an answer to his question. At Hafiz's grave are sometimes seen a merry carousing party who look upon Hafiz as their leader, who, Emerson says, " tears off his turban and throws it at the head of the meddling dervish, and throws his glass after the turban." Again, penitent pilgrims seek his grave to beseech this Sufi saint to intercede for them. Assuredly he does " float luxuriously between Heaven and Earth, and this World and the Next, on the wings of a poetical expression, that might serve indifferently for either." 2
1 See page 364.
2 Fitzgerald.
Hafiz left no complete volume of his works ; like Shakespeare's, they were collected after his death. There are five hundred and seventy-three ghazels or odes, forty-two aphorisms, seventy-nine quatrains and several kasidas and other forms. The principal themes of his odes are love, wine, and roses, — but these themes all have a secondary interpretation and a moral significance.
Although " not so learned as Sa'di or so scientific as Jami, he is the most natural and least egotistical poet of Persia." 1 " Persian of the Persians.112 Eastern critics say of him that he " may be condemned but he cannot be compared."
A PERSIAN SONG.3
Sweet maid, if thou wouldst charm my sight, And bid those arms my neck enfold, That rosy cheek, that lily hand, Would give thy poet more delight Than all Bokhara's vaunted gold,
Than all the gems of Samarkand.
Boy, let yon liquid ruby4 flow, And bid thy pensive heart be glad,
Whate'er the frowning zealots say; Tell them their Eden cannot show A stream so clear as Ruknabad, A bower so sweet as Moscalla.
Oh ! when these fair, perfidious maids, Whose eyes our secret haunts infest,
1 Calcutta Review, Vol. 26.	2 Fitzgerald.
8 Sir William Jones's celebrated translation of the first ode. He is said to have been the first to introduce Hafiz to the West.
* A melted ruby is a common-expression for wine in Persian poetry.


cto ItIn vain with love our bosoms glow; Can all our tears, can all our sighs
New lustre to those charms impart? — Can cheeks where living roses blow, Where Nature spreads her richest dyes, Require the borrowed gloss of art?
Speak not of fate — ah ! change the theme, And talk of odors, talk of wine ;
Talk of the flowers, that round us bloom ; 'Tis all a cloud, 'tis all a dream; To love and joy thy thoughts confine,
Nor hope to pierce the sacred gloom.
Beauty has such resistless power, That e'en the chaste Egyptian dame1
Sighed for the blooming Hebrew boy; For her how fatal was the hour, When to the banks of Nilus came A youth so lovely and so coy!2
But ah ! sweet maid, my counsel hear (Youth should attend when those advise Whom long experience renders sage) ;
l Zulaikha, Potiphar's wife.	2 Joseph.
A Persian Song.
Their dear destructive charms display, Each glance my tender breast invades, And robs my wounded soul of rest,
As Tartars seize their destined prey.Hafi{.
While music charms the ravished ear, While sparkling cups delight our eyes, Be gay ; and scorn the frowns of age.
What cruel answer have I heard ! And yet, by heaven, I love thee still : Can aught be cruel from thy lip ? Yet say, how fell that bitter word From lips which streams of sweetness fill, Which naught but drops of honey sip?
Go boldly forth, my simple lay, Whose accents flow with artless ease,
Like Orient pearls at random strung; Thy notes are sweet, the damsels say, And oh ! far sweeter, if they please
The nymph for whom these notes are sung.
Ode I.1
i. An if yon Turk of Shiraz land this heart would take to hold in fee, Bokhara town and Samarkand to that black mole my dower should be.
2. Ho, Saki, pour the wine-flask dry; in Eden's bowers we ne'er shall find Moscalla's rosy bed, nor streams of Ruknabad's delightsome lea.
1 Selections from the Odes of Hafit translated by Walter Leaf.

O^s.	347
3.	Alack, these saucy Lulis, dear beguilers that the
town embroil, The wantons tear the heartstrings as the Turks their plunder-banquetry.
4.	On our frail love the Loved One's pure perfection
no dependence knows; Can unguent, powder, paint, and patch embellish faces fair, pardie?
5.	Be wine and minstrel all thy theme; beware, nor
plumb the deeps of fate; For none hath found, nor e'er shall find by wit, that great enigma's key.
6.	Of that fair favor Joseph wore, to make more fair
the day, we know; For him love bade Zulaikha tear apart her veil of prudency.
7.	Thy words were hard, yet I submit; forgive thee
God ! Thy words were good; The tart response beseemeth well the honeyed ruby lips of thee.
8.	Give ear, my life ! perpend my words; for more
dear e'en than life itself To youth, so blest of Fortune, speaks the sage advice of ancientry.
9.	The ode is made, the pearls are strung; go, Hafiz,
sweetly sing thy lay ; With jewels from the Pleiad crown doth Heaven engem thy minstrelsy.
IE
W348
Haft.
Ode II.
1.	All bounds my heart is breaking; friends, haste to
my salvation ! Woe's me ! My secret hidden cries loud for proclamation.
2.	Mid reefs my bark is grounded; blow fair, O breeze
of mercy;
Mayhap we win the Friend yet, Love's goal of navigation.
3.	This ten-day smile of heaven swift passes like a tale
told !
Be gracious while thou mayest, brook not procrastination.
4.	That glass of Alexander naught save the bowl of
wine was;
See all Darius' kingdom spread there in revelation.
5.	Go to, thou lord of power, do thanks for fortune's
dower,
Seek out the poor unfriended, raise up the lowly station.
6.	All peace within the two worlds, two words alone
assure it,
" Tow'rd lovers loving-kindness, tow'rd foes dissimulation."	
Odes. 349	w.
7- Ringed round with wine and roses, sweet sang the bulbul yestreen, " Bring quick the morning goblet; friends, watch in expectation."
8.	All entry men forbid me inside the gate of virtue; So, sir, and wilt thou scorn me? Go, change predestination !
9.	More sweet to me than kisses, more soft than maid-
en's cheeks are, That bitter named of Sufi, " Dam of abomination."
10.	When comes the hour of sadness, turn thou to wine
and gladness; Karuns of beggars maketh wine's chemic transmutation.
11.	Wine-flecked is Hafiz' cassock, yet not of choice
he dons it;
Ah, Shaikh of hem unspotted, hear thou my exculpation !
Ode III.
1. Aflame with bloom is the red rose, the bulbul drunk with spring;
What ho, adorers of wine ! Hear the call to mirth that they fling.2.	The cornerstone of repentance that seemed a
rock firm-set Is rent and driven asunder by touch of glasses a-ring.
3.	Fill high the bowl with the red wine, for here in
Liberty Hall
The sage is one with the toper, the ploughman e'en as the king.
4.	From out this Hostel of Two Doors the signal calls
us away,
Alike if low be the roof-tree or lofty dome up-spring.
5.	We conquer only through anguish the resting-place
of delight;
To life, by bond of Alast-vow, the long Alas must cling.
6.	With is and is not annoy not thy heart; be merry
of soul,
For is not is but the last end of every perfect thing.
7.	The fame of Asaph, the wind-steed, the speech
with the birds of the air As wind have passed; to their master no more avail shall they bring.
8.	No pinion heavenward soaring desire; the arrow aloft
Odes.
351
Shall sink to dust in the end, howsoe'er it leap on the wing.
9. What thanks and praises, O Hafiz, shall yield the tongue of thy pen, That all the songs of thy singing from mouth to mouth men sing!
Ode IV.
1.	Returns again to the pleasance the rose, alive from
the dead;
Before her feet in obeisance is bowed the violet's head.
2.	The earth is gemmed as the skies are, the buds a
zodiac band,
For signs in happy ascendant and sweet conjunction spread.
3.	Now kiss the cheek of the Saki to sound of tabor
and pipe,
To voice of viol and harpstring the wine of dawn-tide wed.
4.	The rose's season bereave not of wine and music
and love,
For as the days of a man's life her little week is fled.
5.	The faith of old Zoroaster renews the garden
again,
352	Hafii.
For lo, the tulip is kindled with fire of Nimrod red.
6.	The earth is even as Eden, this hour of lily and
rose;
This hour, alas ! Not an Eden's eternal dwelling-stead !
7.	The rose with Solomon rides, borne aloft on wings
of the wind;
The bulbul's anthem at dawn like the voice of David is shed.
8.	Fill high the bowl to our lord's name 'Imad-ud-Din
Mahmud;
Behold King Solomon's Asaph in him incarnated.
9.	Beyond eternity's bounds stretch the gracious shade
of his might; Beneath that shadow, O Hafiz, be thine eternity sped.
Ode V.
1.	For the garden longs my heart not, when thy radi-
ance it discerneth; As a cypress rooted resteth, as a branded tulip1 burneth.
2.	To the arch of arching eyebrows shall my head no
more be put low,
1 The dark marks at the base of the tulip petals typify the brand marks with which the flames of love sear the heart.
Odes.
353
For the hermit-heart of passion to the world no longer turneth.
3.	For the hyacinth, I scorn her, that she dares to
match thy ringlets; What a puny worthless black thing, what an impudence she learneth !
4.	In the wilderness and dark night whither turn the
erring footstep,	'
But to where thy beauty radiant as a beacon brightly burneth ?
5.	With the taper meetly weep I in the dreary hour of
* dawntide.
For alike we sit consuming, and alike the Loved One spumeth.
6.	In the garden walk and mark how, by the rose's
throne, the tulip As a monarch's boon companion his effulgent cup upturneth.
7.	As the cloud of April weep I to behold that in the
pleasance
'Tis the nightingale that nesteth, but a crow the glory earneth.
8.	With thy eye for torch, thy love-lock in the night
my heart doth waylay — The marauder bold, that such light on his thieving naught concerneth!
9.	The enduring heart of Hafiz but the lore of love
desireth,
Hath abjured the thought of splendor, for the garden never yearneth.
CKD it
Ode VI.
1.	Send the criers round the market, call the royst'rers'
band to hear, Crying, " O yes ! All ye good folk through the Loved One's realm, give ear.
2.	" Lost, a handmaid ! Strayed awhile since ! Lost,
the Vine's wild daughter, lost! Raise the hue and cry to seize her ! Danger lurks where she is near.
3.	" Round her head she wears a foam-crown; all her
garb glows ruby-hued; Thief of wits is she; detain her, lest ye dare not sleep for fear.
4.	" Whoso brings me back the tart maid, take for
sweetmeat all my soul! Though the deepest hell conceal her, go ye down, go hale her here.
5.	" She's a wastrel, she's a wanton, shame abandoned,
rosy-red;
If ye find her, send her back to Hafiz, Balladier." Ode VII.
1. Come back, my Saki, come; for of love-service fain am I,
Fate's suppliant, athirst to be bowed neath the chain am I.
Y
Odes.
355
6.
8.
Where through the radiant east of the wine-bowl thy glory dawns,
Rise, light my path; bewildered in life's mazes vain am I.
What though the surge of sin be about me to whelm me o'er?
Love's hand shall bear me up; his elect, purged of stain, am I.
Flout not the toper's call nor his ill name, O man of law;
What thing soe'er the counsels of God foreordain am I.
Drink wine ; nor wealth nor will shall avail man the gift of love;
Heir since creation's dawn to the one golden gain am I.
What though afar I dwell in the flesh, far from peace and thee;
Natheless in heart and soul in thy court mid the train am I.
I who from land and home never yet wandered forth abroad,
Fain, but to see thy face, of the wild wave and plain am I.
Stand hills and seas between us; arise, Angel Guard, to aid;
Guide thou my steps; a weakling aghast, racked of pain, am I.
9. West Wind, if ever thou breathe of my love's ringlet musky sweet, West Wind, beware, for jealousy's right hand insane am I.
10. Hafiz beneath thy footsteps is yearning to yield his soul;
While life abides, the thrall of my heart's suzerain am I.
At thought of home and of loved ones so loud I
raise my complaint, The tide of brine overwhelms all the ways wherein men fare.
3. My friends' abode shall be mine, not the strangers' outland realm ; Oh, set me back, my Protector, amid my comrades there.
4. My Guide, for love of the Lord, help and lead, that yet once more Along the street of the wine-house aloft my banner I bear.
Ode VIII.
1. When as my wailing is heard mid the stranger's evening prayer, With strange lamenting in strange ears the tale of woe I declare.Odes.
357
'Tis not for reason to count up my years, and write me old,
For like a child with a child, so I sport in love with my fair.
The winds of west and of north know my heart, none other beyond;
For who, save only the wind, comes my way, my secret to share?
The breathing air of my love's home to me is water of life;
Arise and waft me, O West Wind, the dust of Shiraz' air.
My falling tear hath bewrayed me; yet how to lay my plaint?
Mine own familiar friend 'tis hath laid my secret bare.
Methought I heard in the dawntide the lute of Zuhra sing,
" My skill was taught me of Hafiz, the sweet beyond compare."
Ode IX.
Say, where is rapture's vision ? Eyes on the Loved
One bending, More high than kingly splendor, Love's fane as beadsman tending.
358
Hafi{.
2.	Light 'twere, desire to sever forth from the soul, but
natheless
Soul friends depart asunder — there, there the pain transcending !
3.	Fain in the garden budlike close-wrapped were I,
thereafter
Frail reputation's vestment bloomlike asunder rending;
4.	Now like the zephyr breathing love tales in roses'
hearing,
Now from the yearning bulbul love's myst'ry apprehending.
5.	While yet the hand availeth, sweet lips to kiss delay
not;
Else lip and hand thou bitest too late, when comes the ending.
6.	Waste not the hour of friendship; outside this
House of Two Doors FrieAds soon shall part asunder, no more together wending.
7.	Clean out of mind of Sultan Mansur hath Hafiz
wandered;
Lord, bring him back the olden kind heart, the poor befriending.
Ode X.
i. Curled is the hair of hyacinth, jealous to match thy hair, for thee;

CED ♦
Y

Odes.
359
If but thy lips do sweetly smile, rose doth her vesture 'tear for thee.
Pierce not thy faithful bulbul's heart, rose of the fragrant breath, my rose;
Hark how I make through all the night, all in the night, my prayer for thee.
I that of old was sick to hear even the sound of angel voice,
Now; the insensate wordly jeer, chatter, and babble, bear for thee.
Worship of thee hath sealed my brow, dust of thy door my Eden now,
Love of thy cheek my life, I trow, all my desire is care for thee.
Cowl of the monk and bowl of wine, how shall the twain by man be wed?
Yet for the love I bear to thee, these to unite I dare for thee.
Lo, in the beadsman's tattered sleeve hidden is wealth beyond a king's ;
Soon shall he climb the throne, who dares beadsman's attire to wear for thee.
Now is mine eye a kindly seat; there is thy picture's resting-place;
Yea; 'tis a seat of prayer, my king; be it not empty e'er for thee.
8. Like to a garden bower thy cheek, where is the beauty-tide of spring Hafiz the sweet of tongue doth nest, trilling his music there for thee.
Ode XII.
" What bounty shall Heaven bestow ? Drink wine ;
be the rose-leaf sprent." So rose in the dawntide sang; sing, bulbul, a glad consent.
2. Hover not round the raving lovers' laments;
Take thy " Reason Supreme " for goal and guide !
3.	What of Love's drunken frenzy knows that brain That the grape's earthly juice alone hath plied?
4.	Get a Moon-love, and teach thy heart to strive, Though thy flame, like a sun, be spread worldwide.
5.	Tis the white face, the anguish-burdened sigh, Tell the secrets the heart of love would hide.
6.	Let the bowl clear the fumes that rack thy brain; Hafiz, drink deep, and name and fame be defied.
1. Man of Self, lifted up with endless pride, We forgive thee — for love to thee is denied.

Odes.
361
2.
6.
8.
Bear forth to the lawn our throne; there, Saki and loved one by,
Press lips upon lips and cheek, quaff wine and the rose-bower scent.
Whose heart do the rosebud lips make glad with a laugh this day?
Why quit me, O rosebuds pray ? Whereto are thy footsteps bent?
Pace hither, O myrtle form; give thought to the roses' realm;
Come forth that the cypress' pride take lessons in blandishment.
This day is the mart filled full; thronged buyers about thee press;
Why tarry to take thy gain, full lightly in life's road spent ?
All bare to the wayward winds burns beauty, as tapers burn;
Put forth to the use thy stock, take profit of goods well lent.
That ringlet, a hundredfold more sweet than the Tartar's musk,
Well 'twere, did the perfume breathe yet sweeter for kind intent.
Each bird with a song came down, made melody round our King;
Bulbul with a ballad came, Hafiz with a prayer content.
1.	Seize the hour, for time flies fast; seize the hour
for yet ye may; Take the boon of life, my soul; take it now, for yet 'tis day.
2.	Strive to live ; from Fortune's hand win the gift so
hard bestowed; High the cost of Heaven's grace; life the price we needs must pay.
3.	Hear the counsel lovers give; enter in the gates of
joy;
Shall the care of this doomed world all the joy of love outweigh?
4.	Thou that hast the garden's charge, when from out
the world I pass, Save that lovely cypress-form, plant no cypress o'er my clay.
5.	Comes the sour ascetic nigh, hush, no word of top-
ing speak;
Save the leech the secret knows, shall we all the pain display?
6.	As thou walk'st along thy path, blood galore thy
eyelash spills; Hasty steps may some day fall; fear to stumble, heed thy way !

Odes.
363
7.	'Twas the grace of One Name erst dow'red with
might Suliman's seal; In that Name, O honey-sweet, all the night for thee we pray.
8.	Torn away my Joseph dear; mercy, mercy, breth-
ren mine;
All the woe of Canaan's sire once again my woes portray.
9.	Strayed is Hafiz; ah, be kind ; gently lead the lost
one back;
In thy straying ringlet's curl make a home for hearts astray.
Ode XIV. MY BIRD.1
My soul is as a sacred bird, the Highest Heaven its nest:
Fretting within the body's bars, it finds on earth no rest.
When speeding from this dusty heap, this bird of mine shall soar,
'Twill find upon yon lofty gate the nest it had before.
The Sidrah2 shall receive my bird when it has winged its way:
Know on the Empyrean's top my falcon's foot shall stay.
1	Translations by Herman Bicknell.
2	" The Sidrah " — the tree of Paradise.Over the ample field of earth is Fortune's shadow cast, Where, upon wings and pennons borne, this bird of mine has passed.
Mad Hafiz, while the Unity Thou thus proclaim'st in brief, Draw thou thy unifying pen Through men and genii's leaf.1
ODE XVII.
That day of friendship when we met — Recall; Recall those days of fond regret,
Recall.
As bitter poison grief my palate sours : The sound : " Be it sweet!"2 at feasts of ours
Recall.
My friends, it may be, have forgotten long; But I a thousand times that throng
Recall;
1	Recognize no existence excepting that of God. Regarding men and genii as a leaf, or two pages, erase them both. Sudi doubts if Hafiz composed this ode.
2	" Be it sweet I " an expression used at drinking parties.
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No spot in the two worlds it owns — above the sphere its goal:
Its body from the quarry is, from No-place is its soul.
'Tis only in the Glorious World my bird its splendor shows;
The rosy bower of Paradise its daily food bestows.
YOdes XV. and XVI.1
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At morn by the Imams' pure souls my witness there above be Thou!
INSCRIPTION ON THE SLAB OF
^iJS HAFIZ'S T0MB-
1 Odes inscribed on Hafiz's tomb.'3T

Odes.
365
And now while fettered by misfortune's chain, All those who grateful sought my gain
Recall.
Though thousand rivers from my eyes descend, I Zindarud, where gard'ners tend,1
Recall;
And crushed by sorrow that finds no relief, Those who brought solace to my grief
Recall.
No more from Hafiz' lips shall pass Those who once kept them, I, alas !
Recall.
Ode XVIII.
Plant thou the tree of friendship only; so shall thy
heart's desire bear fruit: Uproot thou hatred's plant completely, or woes unnumbered thence may shoot.
Gray-headed Hafiz in this garden Prays God that still his lot may be To sit upon a brooklet's margin, And there caress some Cypress-tree.
Ode XIX.
Far better, in a king, one hour in deeds of justice passed,
Than piety and works austere that five-score years should last.
l Zindarud is the river at Ispahan, which is still famed for its pleasant gardens and palaces.
7JT
>' V.If that dear musk-moled Fair undraped draw near, That Moon who mid all beauties finds no peer, Her heart is seen through her transparent breast As pebbles glitter under water clear.
ODE XXI.2
I said, " O Queen of loveliness,
Have mercy on a wretch like me!"
She answered, " Love has brought distress To many a wretch like thee ! "
I said, " Ah, stay ! and list awhile — " She lightly answered, " Pardon me,
The Queen of Love has not one smile For such a wretch as thee !
" The bright-eyed one who lays her head To sleep on silk — indifferent she,
Though thorns and brambles be the bed Of such a wretch as thee ! "
Ah ! what a shrine for love has he
Whose heart is fettered in thy hair ! Ah, Mole ! how blest to dwell like thee ! Upon that face so fair !
Among the lilies of her cheek,
The transient blushes come and go ; A wind-tossed rose-leaf thus might streak The jasmine's breast of snow !
l Tetrastich.	2 Calcutta Review of 1871.Odes.
3 67
I said, " The lover's resting-place
Is in the black night of your hair;" She turned on me her laughing face And smiled at my despair.
" Ah, Moon of mine ! " I spake again,
" Hide not that rosy cheek from me, Nor plunge my spirit cleft with pain In utter misery ! "
ODE XXII.1
I have felt love's fatal pain Such — I cannot tell again Absence poisons every bliss Such as — ask not what it is.
I have roamed the world around, And at last a treasure found, One without a blight or blame, One whom — ask me not to name.
Oh ! her feet my tears bedew, Fast they fall, nor sweet nor few Oh ! my tears impetuous flow So as — seek not how to know.
Yester night, from her I heard Many a pleasing honeyed word, Words of rapture, but I pray — Ask me, ask me not to say.
1 Translated from Hafiz by the eighteen years old Derozio, Calcutta Review, September 2, 1827.
368	Hafi{.
Wherefore bite my lip ? Oh ! say Did my tongue my heart betray? Ruby lips I've pressed, 'tis true, Whose, — I will not tell to you.
Far from her in my lone cot Sad has been my hapless lot; I have felt, alas ! too well Pangs which ask me not to tell.
I the ways of Love have known, All its secrets are my own, — Shall I all those secrets state ? They're what — I can ne'er relate.
Ode XXIII.1
A flower-tinted cheek, the flowery close Of the fair earth, these are enough for me — Enough that in the meadow wanes and grows The shadow of a graceful cypress tree. I am no lover of hypocrisy; Of all the treasures that the earth can boast, A brimming cup of wine I prize the most —
This is enough for me !
To them that here renowned for virtue live,
A heavenly palace is the meet reward;
To me, the drunkard and the beggar, give
The temple of the grape with red wine stored !
Beside a river seat thee on the sward;
1 Poems from the Divan of Hafiz, translated by Gertrude Low-thian Bell.

Cfo
T
Odes.
369
It floweth past — so flows thy life away, So sweetly, swiftly, fleets our little day —
Swift, but enough for me !
Look upon all the gold in the world's mart, On all the tears the world hath shed in vain; Shall they not satisfy thy craving heart ? I have enough of loss, enough of gain; I have my Love, what more can I obtain ? Mine is the joy of her companionship Whose healing lip is laid upon my lip —
This is enough for me !
I pray thee send not forth my naked soul From its poor house to seek for Paradise; Though heaven and earth before me God unroll, Back to my village still my spirit flies, And, Hafiz, at the door of Kismet lies No just complaint — a mind like water clear, A song that swells and dies upon the ear,
These are enough for thee !
Ode XXIV.
Sleep on thine eyes, bright as narcissus flowers,
Falls not in vain ! And not in vain thy hair's soft radiance showers — Ah, not in vain !
Before the milk upon thy lips was dry, I said : " Lips where the salt of wit doth lie,
370
Sweets shall be mingled with thy mockery, And not in vain ! "
Thy mouth the fountain where Life's waters flow, A dimpled well of tears is set below, And death lies near to life thy lovers know, But know in vain !
God send to thee great length of happy days ! Lo, not for his own life thy servant prays; Love's dart in thy bent brows the Archer lays, Nor shoots in vain.
Art thou with grief afflicted, with the smart Of absence, and is bitter toil thy part? Thy lamentations and thy tears, oh Heart, Are not in vain !
Last night the wind from out her village blew, And wandered all the garden alleys through, Oh rose, tearing thy bosom's robe in two ;
'Twas not in vain !
And Hafiz, though thy heart within thee dies, Hiding love's agony from curious eyes, Ah, not in vain thy tears, not vain thy sighs, Not all in vain !
Ode XXV.
Oh Cup-bearer, set my glass afire With the light of wine ! oh minstrel, sing : The word fulfilleth my heart's desire !
Odes.	371
Reflected within the goblet's ring I see the glow of my Love's red cheek, And scant of wit, ye who fail to seek The pleasures that wine alone can bring !
Let not the blandishments be checked
That slender beauties lavish on me,
Until in the grace of the cypress decked,
My love shall come like a ruddy pine tree.
He cannot perish whose heart doth hold
The life love wreathes — though my days are told,
In the Book of the World lives my constancy.
But when the Day of Reckoning is here, I fancy little will be the gain That accrues to the Shaikh for his lawful cheer, Or to me for the draught forbidden I drain. The drunken eyes of my comrades shine, And I too, stretching my hand to the wine, On the neck of drunkenness loosen the rein.
Oh wind, if thou passest the garden close Of my heart's dear master, carry for me The message I send to him, wind that blows ! u Why hast thou thrust from thy memory My hapless name?" breathe low in his ear; " Knowest thou not that the day is near When nor thou nor any shall think on me?"
If with tears, oh Hafiz, thine eyes are wet, Scatter them round thee like grain, and snare The Bird of Joy when it comes to thy net.

Sxs

s
372	Hafi{.
As the tulip shrinks from the cold night air, So shrank my heart and quailed in the shade; Oh Song-bird Fortune, the toils are laid, When shall thy bright wings lie pinioned there ?
The heavens' green sea and the bark therein, The slender bark of the crescent moon, Are lost in thy bounty's radiant noon, Vizir and pilgrim, Kawameddin !
Ode XXVI.1
The nightingale with drops of his heart's blood Had nourished the red rose, then came a wind, And catching at the boughs in envious mood, A hundred thorns about his heart entwined. Like to the parrot crunching sugar, good Seemed the world to me who could not stay The wind of Death that swept my hopes away.
Light of mine eyes and harvest of my heart, And mine at least in changeless memory ! Ah, when he found it easy to depart, He left the harder pilgrimage to me ! Oh Camel-driver, though the cordage start, For God's sake help me lift my fallen load, And Pity be my comrade of the road !
My face is seamed with dust, mine eyes are wet. Of dust and tears the turkois firmament
1 Written on his son's death.
a

cio it-
T

Odes.
373
Kneadeth the bricks for joy's abode ; and yet . . . Alas, and weeping yet I make lament! Because the moon her jealous glances set Upon the bow-bent eyebrows of my moon, He sought a lodging in the grave — too soon !
I had not castled, and the time is gone. What shall I play? Upon the checkered floor Of Night and Day, Death won the game — forlorn And careless now, Hafiz can lose no more.
Ode XXVII.
Return ! that to a heart wounded full sore Valiance and strength may enter in; return ! And Life shall pause at the deserted door, The cold dead body breathe again and burn. Oh come ! and touch mine eyes, of thy sweet grace, For I am blind to all but to thy face. Open the gates and bid me see once more !
Like to a cruel Ethiopian band, Sorrow despoiled the kingdom of my heart — Return ! glad Lord of Rome, and free the land; Before thine arms the foe shall break and part. See now, I hold a mirror to mine eyes, And naught but thy reflection therein lies; The glass speaks truth to them that understand.
Night is with child, hast thou not heard men say ? " Night is with child ! what will she bring to birth ? "
The span of thy life is as five little days, Brief hours and swift in this halting-place; Rest softly, ah rest! while the Shadow delays, For Time's self is naught and the dial's face.
I sit and ask the tears when thou'rt away. Oh come ! and when the nightingale of mirth Pipes in the Spring-awakened garden ground, In Hafiz' heart shall ring a sweeter sound, Diviner nightingales attune their lay.
Ode XXVIII.
What is wrought in the forge of the living and life — All things are naught! Ho ! fill me the bowl, For naught is the gear of the world and the strife ! One passion has quickened the heart and the soul, The Beloved's presence alone they have sought — Love at least exists; yet if Love were not, Heart and soul would sink to the common lot —
All things are naught!
Like an empty cup is the fate of each, That each must fill from Life's mighty flood; Naught thy toil, though to Paradise gate thou reach, If Another has filled up thy cup with blood; Neither shade from the sweet-fruited trees could be bought
By thy praying — oh Cypress of Truth, dost not see That Sidrah and Tuba were naught, and to thee
All then were naught'
Odes.
375
On the lip of Oblivion we linger, and short
Is the way from the Lip to the Mouth where we pass —
While the moment is thine, fill, oh Saki, the glass
Ere all is naught!
Consider the rose that breaks into flower, Neither repines though she fade and die — The powers of the world endure for an hour, But naught shall remain of their majesty. Be not too sure of your crown, you who thought That virtue was easy and recompense yours; From the monastery to the wine tavern doors
The way is naught!
What though I, too, have tasted the salt of my tears, Though I, too, have burnt in the fires of grief, Shall I cry aloud to unheeding ears ? Mourn and be silent! naught brings relief. Thou, Hafiz, art praised for the songs thou hast wrought,
But bearing a stained or an honored name, The lovers of wine shall make light of thy fame —
All things are naught!
Ode XXIX.
Slaves of thy shining eyes are even those That diadems of might and empire bear; Drunk with the wine that from thy red lip flows, Are they that e'en the grape's delight forswear. Drift, like the wind, across a violet bed,
1
Ah, loose me not! ah, set not Hafiz free
From out the bondage of thy gleaming hair!
Safe only those, safe, and at liberty,
That fast enchained in thy linked ringlets are.
But from the image of his dusty cheek
Learn this from Hafiz : proudest heads shall bend,
And dwellers on the threshold of a friend
Be crowned with the dust that crowns the meek.
Before thy many lovers, weeping low, And clad like violets in blue robes of woe, Who feel thy wind-blown hair and bow the head.
Thy messenger the breath of dawn, and mine A stream of tears, since lover and beloved Keep not their secret; through my verses shine, Though other lays my flower's grace have proved And countless nightingales have sung thy praise. When veiled beneath thy curls thou passest, see, To right and leftward those that welcome thee Have bartered peace and rest on thee to gaze !
But thou that knowest God by heart, away ! Wine-drunk, love-drunk, we inherit Paradise, His mercy is for sinners; hence and pray Where wine thy cheek red as red erghwan dyes, And leave the cell to faces sinister. Oh Khizr, whose happy feet bathed in life's fount, Help one who toils afoot — the horsemen mount And hasten on their way; I scarce can stir.
Ode XXX.
Not all the sum of earthly happiness Is worth the bowed head of a moment's pain, And if I sell for wine my dervish dress, Worth more than what I sell is what I gain ! Land where my Lady dwells, thou holdest me Enchained ; else Fars were but a barren soil, Not worth the journey over land and sea,
Not worth the toil!
Down in the quarter where they sell red wine, My holy carpet scarce would fetch a cup — How brave a pledge of piety is mine, Which is not worth a goblet foaming up ! Mine enemy heaped scorn on me and said : " Forth from the tavern gate ! " Why am I thrust From off the threshold ? is my fallen head
Not worth the dust ?
Wash white that travel-stained sad robe of thine ! Where word and deed alike one color bear, The grape's fair purple garment shall outshine Thy many-colored rags and tattered gear. Full easy seemed the sorrow of the sea Lightened by hope of gain — hope flew too fast! A hundred pearls were poor indemnity,
Not worth the blast.
The Sultan's crown, with priceless jewels set, Encircles fear of death and constant dread;

378	Hafi{.
It is a head-dress much desired — and yet Art sure 'tis worth the danger to the head? 'Twere best for thee to hide thy face from those That long for thee ; the Conqueror's reward Is never worth the army's long-drawn woes,
Worth fire and sword.
Ah, seek the treasure of a mind at rest And store it in the treasury of Ease ; Not worth a loyal heart, a tranquil breast, Were all the riches of thy lands and seas ! Ah, scorn, like Hafiz, the delights of earth, Ask not one grain of favor from the base, Two hundred sacks of jewels were not worth
Thy soul's disgrace t
ODE XXXI.1
My lady, that did change this house of mine Into a heaven when that she dwelt therein, From head to foot an angel's grace divine Enwrapped her ; pure she was, spotless of sin ; Fair as the moon her countenance, and wise; Lords of the kind and tender glance, her eyes With an abounding loveliness did shine.
Then said my heart: Here will I take my rest! This city breathes her love in every part. But to a distant bourne was she addressed, Alas ! he knew it not, alas, poor heart! The influence of some cold malignant star
i Said to have been written on the death of his wife.

Odes.	379
Has loosed my hand that held her, lone and far She journeyeth that lay upon my breast.
Not only did she lift my bosom's veil,
Reveal its inmost secret, but her grace
Drew back the curtain from Heaven's mansions pale,
And gave her there an eternal dwelling-place.
The flower-strewn river lip and meadows fair,
The rose herself but fleeting treasures were,
Regret and Winter follow in their trail.
Dear were the days which perished with my friend —
Ah, what is left of life, now she is dead,
All wisdomless and profitless I spend !
The nightingale his own life's blood doth shed,
When, to the kisses of the wind, the morn
Unveils the rose's splendor — with his torn
And jealous breast he dyes her petals red.
Yet pardon her, oh Heart, for poor wert thou,
A humble dervish on the dusty way;
Crowned with the crown of empire was her brow,
And in the realms of beauty she bore sway.
But all the joy that Hafiz' hand might hold,
Lay in the beads that morn and eve he told,
Wom with God's praise; and see ! he holds it now.
Ode XXXII.
Not one is filled with madness like to mine In all the taverns ! my soiled robe lies here, There my neglected book, both pledged for wine.
w
> v.380
With dust my heart is thick, that should be clear, A glass to mirror forth the Great King's face; One ray of light from out Thy dwelling-place To pierce my night, oh God ! and draw me near.
From out mine eyes unto thy garment's hem A river flows ; perchance my cypress tree Beside that stream may rear her lofty stem, Watering her roots with tears. Ah, bring to me The wine vessel! since my Love's cheek is hid, A flood of grief comes from my heart unbid, And turns mine eyes into a bitter sea !
Nay, by the hand that sells me wine, I vow No more the brimming cup shall touch my lips, Until my mistress with her radiant brow Adorns my feast — until Love's secret slips From her, as from the candle's tongue of flame, Though I, the sing&d moth, for very shame, Dare not extol Love's light without eclipse.
Red wine I worship, and I worship her ! — Speak not to me of anything beside, For naught but these on earth or heaven I care. What though the proud narcissus flowers defied Thy shining eyes to prove themselves more bright, Yet heed them not! those that are clear of sight Follow not them to whom all light's denied.
Before the tavern door a Christian sang To sound of pipe and drum, what time the earth
S3*	-t5>J &j
O^s.	38I
Awaited the white dawn, and gayly rang Upon mine ear those harbingers of mirth : " If the True Faith be such as thou dost say, Alas ! my Hafiz, that this sweet To-day Should bring unknown To-morrow to the birth ! "
ODE XXXIII.
Hast thou forgotten when thy stolen glance Was turned to me, when on my happy face Clearly thy love was writ, which doth enhance All happiness ? or when my sore disgrace (Hast thou forgot?) drew from thine eyes reproof, And made thee hold thy sweet red lips aloof, Dowered, like Jesus' breath, with healing grace ?1
Hast thou forgotten how the glorious
Swift nights flew past, the cup of dawn brimmed high?
My love and I alone, God favoring us !
And when she like a waning moon did lie,
And Sleep had drawn his coif about her brow,
Hast thou forgot? Heaven's crescent moon would bow
The head, and in her service pace the sky !
Hast thou forgotten, when a sojourner Within the tavern gates and drunk with wine, I found Love's passionate wisdom hidden there, Which in the mosque none even now divine ? The goblet's carbuncle (hast thou forgot ?)
1 According to Oriental belief, Jesus Christ's gift of healing was due to a miraculous quality in His breath.


33 2
Hafa.
Laughed out aloud, and speech flew hot And fast between thy ruby lips and mine !
Hast thou forgotten when thy cheek's dear torch
Lighted the beacon of desire in me,
And when my heart, like foolish moths that scorch
Their wings and yet return, turned all to thee?
Within the banquet-hall of Good Repute
(Hast thou forgot?) the wine's self pressed my suit,
And filled the morn with drunken jollity !
Hast thou forgotten when thou laid'st aright The uncut gems of Hafiz' inmost thought, And side by side thy sweet care strung the bright Array of verse on verse — hast thou forgot ?
Ode XXXIV.
The breath of Dawn's musk-strewing wind shall blow,
The ancient world shall turn to youth again,
And other wines from out Spring's chalice flow;
Wine-red, the judas tree shall set before
The pure white jessamine a brimming cup,
And wind-flowers lift their scarlet chalice up
For the star-pale narcissus to adore.
The long-drawn tyranny of grief shall pass, Parting shall end in meeting, the lament Of the sad bird that sang " Alas, alas ! " Shall reach the rose in her red-curtained tent. Forth from the mosque ! the tavem calls to me !

Odes.	383
Wouldst hinder us ? The preacher's homily Is long, but life will soon be spent!
Ah, foolish Heart! the pleasures of To-day, If thou abandon, will To-morrow stand Thy surety for the gold thou'st thrown away ? In Sha'aban the troops of Grief disband, And crown the hours with wine's red coronet — The sun of merriment ere long will set, And meagre Ramazan is close at hand !
Dear is the rose — now, now her sweets proclaim, While yet the purple petals blush and blow : Hither adown the path of Spring she came, And by the path of Autumn she will go. Now, while we listen, Minstrel, tune thy lay ! Thyself hast said : " The Present steals away; The Future comes, and bringing—what? Dost know?"
Summoned by thy melody did Hafiz rise Out of the darkness near thy lips to dwell; Back to the dark again his pathway lies — Sing out, sing clear, and singing cry : Farewell!
Ode XXXV.
Last night I dreamed that angels stood without The tavern door, and knocked in vain, and wept; They took the clay of Adam, and, methought, Moulded a cup therewith while all men slept.
nMBrt
Oh dwellers in the halls of Chastity !
You brought Love's passionate red wine to me,
Down to the dust I am, your bright feet stepped.
For Heaven's self was all too weak to bear
The burden of His love God laid on it,
He turned to seek a messenger elsewhere,
And in the Book of Fate my name was writ.
Between my Lord and me such concord lies
As makes the Houris glad in Paradise,
With songs of praise through the green glades they flit.
A hundred dreams of Fancy's garnered store Assail me — Father Adam went astray Tempted by one poor grain of com ! Wherefore Absolve and pardon him that turns away Though the soft breath of Truth reaches his ears, For two-and-seventy jangling creeds he hears, And loud-voiced Fable calls him ceaselessly.
That, that is not the flame of Love's true fire Which makes the torchlight shadows dance in rings, But where the radiance draws the moth's desire And sends him forth with scorched and drooping wings.
Ode XXXVI.
I cease not from desire till my desire Is satisfied ; or let my mouth attain My love's red mouth, or let my soul expire, Sighed from those lips that sought her lips in vain. Others may find another love as fair;
sa^g-a*^
Odes.	385
Upon her threshold I have laid my head, The dust shall cover me, still lying there, When from my body life and love have fled.
My soul is on my lips ready to fly, But grief beats in my heart and will not cease, Because not once, not once before I die, Will her sweet lips give all my longing peace. My breath is narrowed down to one long sigh For a red mouth that burns my thoughts like fire; When will that mouth draw near and make reply To one whose life is straitened with desire?
When I am dead, open my grave and see The cloud of smoke that rises round thy feet: In my dead heart the fire still burns for thee; Yea, the smoke rises from my winding-sheet! Ah, come, Beloved ! for the meadows wait Thy coming, and the thorn bears flowers instead Of thorns, the cypress fruit, and desolate Bare winter from before thy steps has fled.
Hoping within some garden ground to find A red rose soft and sweet as thy soft cheek, Through every meadow blows the western wind, Through every garden he is fain to seek. Reveal thy face ! that the whole world may be Bewildered by thy radiant loveliness ; The cry of man and woman comes to thee, Open thy lips and comfort their distress !
m
i386	Hafii.
Each curling lock of thy luxuriant hair
Breaks into barbed hooks to catch my heart,
My broken heart is wounded everywhere
With countless wounds from which the red drops start.
Yet when sad lovers meet and tell their sighs,
Not without praise shall Hafiz' name be said,
Not without tears, in those pale companies
Where joy has been forgot and hope has fled.
Ode XXXVII.
Cypress and Tulip and sweet Eglantine, Of these the tale from lip to lip is sent; Washed by three cups, oh Saki, of thy wine, My song shall turn upon this argument. Spring, bride of all the meadows, rises up, Clothed in her ripest beauty : fill the cup ! Of Spring's handmaidens runs this song of mine.
The sugar-loving birds of distant Ind, Except a Persian sweetmeat that was brought To fair Bengal, have found naught to their mind. See how my song, that in one night was wrought, Defies the limits set by space and time ! O'er plains and mountain-tops my fearless rhyme, Child of a night, its year-long road shall find.
And thou whose sense is dimmed with piety, Thou too shalt learn the magic of her eyes; Forth comes the caravan of sorcery When from those gates the blue-veined curtains rise.

Odes.
-figS
387
And when she walks the flowery meadows through, Upon the jasmine's shamed cheek the dew Gathers like sweat, she is so fair to see !
Ah, swerve not from the path of righteousness Though the world lure thee ! like a wrinkled crone, Hiding beneath her robe lasciviousness, She plunders them that pause and heed her moan. From Sinai Moses brings thee wealth untold; Bow not thine head before the calf of gold Like Samir, following after wickedness.
From the Shah's garden blows the wind of Spring,
The tulip in her lifted chalice bears
A dewy wine of Heaven's minist'ring;
Until Ghiyasuddin, the Sultan, hears,
Sing, Hafiz, of thy longing for his face.
The breezes whispering round thy dwelling-place
Shall carry thy lament unto the King.
JAMI.
The glory of Persian poetry ends with the great mystic Nur ud-Din Abd ur-Rahman, better known as Jami. He took his takhallus, or poetical name, which means " drinking cup" or goblet, from Jam, the province in which he was born in 1414 a.d.
At five years of age he is said to have shown his unusual gifts and he was called Nur-ud-Din, the "Light of Faith." In later years he received the title of Maulana, "Our Master." As a student at Herat and Samarkand he was a wonder to his classmates and an enigma to his professors. The fame of his learning soon travelled to the most remote part of Persia, and as the guest of the Sultan Abu Sa'id, at Herat, he received great honors from the most distinguished men of the times. He became an ardent student of the Sufi doctrine under its great master, Mohammed Saad ud-Din Kashghari. According to Fitzgerald Mohammed appeared to Jami in a dream and thus influenced the poet to study with him. The solitude which the Sufi teaching demands was of so long a duration with Jami that when he again returned to the world he seemed almost to have lost the power of speech. Although early fitted to teach it, it was only during the last years of his life that he would take his master's place at the great mosque at Herat, where his eloquence brought even far-away kings to his feet. Like all True Believers, Jami made his pilgrimage to Mecca. It was in 1472 a.d., when he was about sixty years old. He visited at Baghdad and Damascus, returning after about a year's absence to Herat, where he died at the age of eighty-one years.
Characteristic of the poet was his prayer of: " O God ! Dervish let me live and Dervish die, and in the company
Jami.	389
of the Dervish do thou quicken me to life again ! " Yet in spite of this sentiment the Sultan Husein had an elaborate funeral for this poet, and he was followed to his grave by a procession of all the celebrities of the court. A noted orator delivered the funeral oration, which was composed by his friend, Mir Ali Shir, the Vizir, who afterward laid the first stone of " Tarbet'i Jami," the monument raised to the poet's memory, and erected in one of the principal streets of Herat.
Jami's wife was the granddaughter of his Sufi teacher, and all his four sons died when very young. For the fourth son he wrote the Be/iaristan, or Spring Garden, an imitation of the eight Gardens of Paradise, a superb copy of which lies now in an English library. That Jami " combined the moral tone of Sa'di with the lofty aspiration of Jelalu-M-Din-Rumi and the graceful ease of Hafiz with the deep pathos of Nizami," is a tribute he evidently feels is not undeserved, as he says of himself, " As Poet, I have resounded through the World; Heaven filled itself with my Song, and the Bride of Time adorned her Ears and Neck with the Pearls of my Verse, whose coming Caravan the Persian Hafiz and Sa'di came forth gladly to salute, "and the Indian Khosrau and Hasan hailed as a Wonder of the World."
Jami devoted his life to study and literature, and as a result left behind him, according to one authority,1 ninety-nine books. These cover a variety of subjects, including theology, biography, ethics, history, letters, and poetry. The treasure spent in decorating the transcriptions of his manuscripts shows how his countrymen estimate his genius. It is said that sixteen artists were employed upon one manuscript containing but 134 pages.2
J ami's Salaman and Absal has been translated by Edward Fitzgerald, and was the first Persian poem he ever read. He calls it "almost the best of the Persian
1 Shir Khan Ludi.	2 Khorasan in Affliction.
390
Jami.
poems I have read or heard about.1' But among all Jami's celebrated works, Yusnf and Zulaikha, remodelled from Firdausi, is unquestionably the most famous and considered the finest poem in the Persian language. It is the sixth title in his exquisite collection of poems called Haft Aurang or The Seven Thrones. The best Persian scholars know its finest passages by heart, and in India it is read in all the "independent indigenous schools11 where Persian is taught; it is really the Persian Ovid. A superb copy of this is in the Oxford Library. The esoteric meaning of the poem was evidently doubted by the writer, who stated that it seems to have been written for the express purpose of showing how an unprincipled woman may pursue a good man for a series of years, marry him at last almost against his will, and make him wish himself in heaven the next day."
To the Persians Yusuf (Joseph) stands as the emblem of divine perfection, and Zulaikha—the poet's name for Potiphar's wife — shows how the human soul attains the lo^e for the highest beauty and goodness, only when it has suffered and has, like Zulaikha, been purified and regenerated. Such is the deeper meaning of this dramatic love poem which differs in many details from the scriptural story of the young Israelite.
The following translation, ends with the betrothal of Zulaikha and Yusuf. In the original it contains four thousand couplets in which we find the " Marriage " and " Death 11 of Yusuf, then the death of Zulaikha, and Sir William Jones says it is " the finest poem he ever read."
YUSUF AND ZULAIKHA.1 Prologue.
Unfold, O God, the bud of hope : disclose From Thine eternal Paradise one rose
l Translated by Ralph T. G. Griffith.

cfo
Yusuf and Zulaikha.
Whose breath may flood my brain with odor, while The bud's leaf-liplets make my garden1 smile.
0	grant that I, in this drear world of woe, The boundless riches of Thy grace may know. May gratitude to Thee my thoughts employ; To sing Thy praises be my task and joy.
Vouchsafe a prosperous day from those that are Best on the roll of Wisdom's calendar. Send forth Thy soldier to the war, and teach His lips to conquer in the field of speech. Grant that my tongue may weigh the pearls, O Lord, Which Thy dear bounty in my heart has stored ; And let the fragrance Thou hast lent my muse Its musky breath from Kaf to Kaf2 diffuse. Lips sweet as sugar on my pen bestow, And from my book let streams of odor flow.
In this world's inn, where sweetest songs abound,
1	hear no prelude to the strain I sound.
The guests have quaffed their wine and passed away;
Their cups were empty and they would not stay.
No sage, no stripling— not a hand ere mine —
Has held this goblet of poetic wine.
Rise, Jami, rise : thy fear behind thee cast,
And, be it clear or dull, bring forth the wine thou hast.
1	That is, my heart.
2	From east to west, from north to south. Kaf is like the Loka-loka of the Hindus, the king of mountains which encircles the flat earth.
I
I
Mi
I
KM
m
H
Mj1<
m
Si

I

392
Jami.
Praise of the Prophet.
In separation pine the souls of all: For pity, Prophet sent by God, we call. Art thou not he who pities all, and how Canst thou be distant from the wretched now ? O dew-sprent Tulip, thou hast drunk thy fill: Awake, Narcissus ! wilt thou slumber still ? Show from the screen of bliss thy head ; display That brow that bids the dawn of life be gay. Turn thou our night of woe to sun-bright morn, And let thy face our glorious day adorn. Loose from thy head thy long black hair, to meet Like shadows falling at thy cypress'1 feet. Soft skins of Taif2 for thy sandals take, And of our heartstrings fitting latchets make. Sages before thee like a carpet lie, And fain would kiss thy foot that passes by. Leave for the sacred court thy far retreat, And tread on lips which yearn to touch those feet. Raise up the fathers ; from their misery free, And comfort those who give their hearts to thee. Though o'er our heads the waves of sin roll high ; Though by thy path with thirsty lips we lie; Thou art a cloud of gentle mercy : turn Thy pitying look on lips that thirst and burn. O blest are they who turn to thee with eyes
1	Cypress, for a tall, graceful figure in man or woman, is one of the commonplaces of Persian poetry.
2	A town not far from Mecca.

Yusuf and Zulaihba.
Dimmed with thy pathway's dust and strengthened rise.
We sought the mosque thanksgivings to renew;
Our souls like moths about thy splendor flew.
Each heart a lattice open to the day,
We sported in thy garden and were gay.
On sacred thresholds of thy courts we wept
Tears from the clouds of eyes that never slept.
We swept the dust that on the pavement lay,
And cleared the thistles with our hands away.
Of that, a salve to purge our sight we made;
Of these, a plaster on our hearts we laid.
Near to the pulpit in thy mosque we drew,
And laid beneath it cheeks like gold in hue;
Moved from the arch to offer prayer, and wept
With tears of blood where'er thy foot has stepped.
Erect we stood at every pillar's base,
And mid the upright prayed for blissful place.
Our souls yearned for thee : warmed with sweet desire,
We fed each flambeau from our holy fire.
Our souls, thank God, are in that holy spot,
Though with their dust our bodies strew it not.
Helpless are we ; our own wild aims we seek : O aid the helpless and forgive the weak. Do thou with loving hand our steps sustain, Or all our labor, all our strength is vain. Fate drives us wandering from the path astray : To God our guide, to God for light we pray. May His great mercy keep our lives secure, And in the path of faith our steps assure. When comes that day that wakes the dead at last,
CtO
Beauty.
Void lay the world, in nothingness concealed, Without a trace of light or life revealed, Save one existence which no second knew — Unknown the pleasant words of We and You. Then Beauty shone, from stranger glances free, Seen of herself, with naught beside to see, With garments pure of stain, the fairest flower Of virgin loveliness in bridal bower. No combing hand had smoothed a flowing tress, No mirror shown her eyes their loveliness. No surma2 dust those cloudless orbs had known, To the bright rose her cheek no bulbul flown. No heightening hand had decked the rose with green, No patch3 or spot upon that cheek was seen. No zephyr from her brow had filched a hair, No eye in thought had seen the splendor there. Her witching snares in solitude she laid,
1	An allusion to the game of chugan, the modem polo.
2	Collyrium or antimony, applied under the eyelid.
s Small black " beauty spots " were used by Persian, as formerly by English ladies.
Let not our honor to the flames be cast.
Still may He grant, though we have wandered thus,
Free leave to thee to intercede for us.
'Tis thine with downward head, as suits the mace,1
To urge the ball through intercession's space.
And through thy aid may Jami's work be found —
Though some may scorn it — with completion crowned.THE GAME OF CHANGAN
From this quaint illustration may be seen the close resemblance of the Royal Game of Persia to the modern polo. It was played by horsemen who strove to drive a ball between upright goals by means of mallets.
Yusuf and Zulaikha.
395
And love's sweet game without a partner played.
But when bright Beauty reigns and knows her power, She springs indignant from her curtained bower. She scorns seclusion and eludes the guard, And from the window looks if doors be barred. See how the tulip on the mountain grown, Soon as the breath of genial Spring has blown, Bursts from the rock, impatient to display Her nascent beauty to the eye of day.
When sudden to thy soul reflection brings The precious meaning of mysterious things, Thou canst not drive the thought from out thy brain; Speak, hear thou must, for silence is such pain. So Beauty ne'er will quit the urgent claim Whose motive first from heavenly beauty came, When from her blessed bower she fondly strayed, And to the world and man her charms displayed.
In every mirror then her face was shown, Her praise in every place was heard and known. Touched by her light, the hearts of angels burned, And, like the circling spheres, their heads were turned, While saintly bands, whom purest motives stir, Joined in loud praises at the sight of her, And those who bathe them in the ocean sky Cried out enraptured, " Laud to God on high ! "
Rays of her splendor lit the rose's breast And stirred the bulbul's heart with sweet unrest. From her bright glow its cheek the flambeau fired, And myriad moths around the flame expired. Her glory lent the very sun the ray
1	Laili and Majnun, and Shirin, Parviz, and Farhad, are typical lovers, celebrated and frequently alluded to in Persian poetry.
2	Yusuf.
Which wakes the lotus on the flood to-day. Her loveliness made Laili's1 face look fair To Majnun, fettered by her every hair. She opened Shirin's sugared lips, and stole From Parviz' breast and brave Farhad's the soul. Through her his head the Moon of Canaan2 raised, And fond Zulaikha perished as she gazed.
Yes, though she shrinks from earthly lovers' call, Eternal Beauty is the queen of all; In every curtained bower the screen she holds, About each captured heart her bonds enfolds. Through her sweet love the heart its life retains, The soul through love of her its object gains. The heart which maidens' gentle witcheries stir Is, though unconscious, fired with love of her. Refrain from idle speech ; mistake no more : She brings her chains and we, her slaves, adore. Fair and approved of Love, thou still must own That gift of beauty comes from her alone. Thou art concealed : she meets all lifted eyes; Thou art the mirror which she beautifies. She is that mirror, if we closely view The truth — the treasure and the treasury too.
But thou and I — our serious work is naught; We waste our days unmoved by earnest thought. Cease, or my task will never end, for her Sweet beauties lack a meet interpreter.
Kwsw/ Zulaikha.	397
Then let us still the slaves of love remain, For without love we live in vain, in vain.
Love.
No heart is that which love ne'er wounded : they Who know not lovers' pangs are soulless clay. Turn from the world, O turn thy wandering feet; Come to the world of love and find it sweet.
Heaven's giddy round from craze of love was caught; From love's disputes the world with strife is fraught. Love's slave be thou if thou would fain be free : Welcome love's pangs, and happy shalt thou be. From wine of love came joy and generous heat: From meaner cups flow sorrow and deceit. Love's sweet, soft memories youth itself restore: The tale of love gives fame for evermore. If Majnun ne'er the cup of love had drained, High fame in heaven and earth he ne'er had gained. A thousand sages, deep in wisdom's lore, Untaught of love, died, and are known no more : Without a name or trace in death they sank, And in the book of Time their name is blank.
The groves are gay with many a lovely bird : Our lips are silent and their praise unheard ; But when the theme is love's delicious tale, The moth is lauded and the nightingale. What though a hundred arts to thee be known : Freedom from self is gained through love alone. To worldly love thy youthful thoughts incline,


398
Jami.
For earthly love will lead to love divine. First with the Alphabet thy task begin, Then take the Word of God and read therein.
Once to his master a disciple cried : — " To wisdom's pleasant path be thou my guide." " Hast thou ne'er loved ? " the master answered ; " learn The ways of love and then to me return." Drink deep of earthly love, that so thy lip May learn the wine of holier love to sip. But let not form too long thy soul entrance ; Pass o'er the bridge : with rapid feet advance. If thou wouldst rest, thine ordered journey sped, Forbear to linger at the bridge's head.
Thank God that ever from mine early days My steps have been in love's delightful ways. Love stood beside me when my life was new, And from my mother's breast love's milk I drew. White as that milk are now my hairs, but still Sweet thoughts of love mine aged bosom thrill. Still in my heart the youthful warmth I feel, While in my ear reechoes Love's appeal: —
" In love, O Jami, have thy days been passed : Die in that love gay-hearted to the last. Some tale of love's adventure, that may win Thy name remembrance in the world, begin : Some picture with thy finest pen assay, Which still may live when thou art gone away."
I heard entranced : my spirit rushed to meet Love's welcome order, for the voice was sweet; With gladsome heart the clear command obeyed,

CSDYusuf.
In this orchestra full of vain deceit
The drum of Being, each in turn, we beat.
Each morning brings new truth to light and fame,
And on the world falls lustre from a name.
If in one constant course the ages rolled,
Full many a secret would remain untold.
If the sun's splendor never died away,
Ne'er would the market of the stars be gay.
If in our gardens endless frost were king,
No rose would blossom at the kiss of Spring.
When Adam's service in the temple ceased, Seth took his station as presiding priest. He passed away, and Idris 1 next began In this sad world to preach pure love to man. When he was called away to read in heaven, To Noah's watchful care our faith was given. When Noah sank beneath death's whelming wave, To Allah's friend2 the door admittance gave.
1	Enoch. Idris is derived from darasa, "he read," and the following line contains a play on the word,
2	Abraham.
Yusuf and Zulaihha.
And straight the magic of new spells essayed. Now if kind Heaven will bless and aid the task, And lade my palm tree with the fruit I ask, I from this glowing heart will pour a song To melt the tender and to move the strong; Veil the blue vault of heaven with cloud of sighs, And with wild weeping dim its starry eyes.
a
s
400
Jami.
When heavenly mansions claimed him for a guest,
Isaac the treasure which he left possessed.
When Isaac wearied of the world and died,
The voice of Jacob was religion's guide.
He lived and prospered : planted by his hand,
His banner waved o'er Shain1 and Canaan's land,
Wherein he made his dwelling. Rich was he
In patriarchal wealth and progeny ;
And sheep and rams cropped on his hills their food
Like ants and locusts for their multitude.
Twelve sons were his. Among them Yusuf won
The father's heart, his best beloved son,
The darling of his age. The happy mother
Bore him the heavenly moon's terrestrial brother.
In the heart's garden a fair plant was reared;
A bright young moon in the soul's heaven appeared;
In Abraham's rose-bed a sweet blossom, bright
In garb of tender beauty, sprang to light;
In the House of Isaac there rose a star
Whose splendor streamed through the sky afar;
In the garden of Jacob a tulip grew,
The balm of his heart and its sorrow too :
A fawn of the sweetest odor, that made
Cathay2 envy the fields where his young feet strayed.
The mother, while earth was her place of rest, Dewed the babe's sweet lips from her loving breast. When two glad years she had nursed her son, Time poisoned her food and her course was run.
1	Syria.
2	Khutan or Chinese Tartary, famous for its musk-deer.

CE) f
TYusuf and Zulaikha.	401
That pearl from the ocean of grace was left
An orphan in tears, of her love bereft.
The father pitied the babe. The fair
Young pearl he gave to his sister's care;
And her heart's dear nursling, a bird endued
With gay wings, roamed in the garden of food.1
Then stood the child on his baby feet,
And the lisping words of his lips were sweet.
Not for an instant the dame would part
From the infant whose love had enchained her heart.
On her bosom at night, like her soul, he lay,
And was ever the sun of her eyes by day.
But the love of the father grew strong, and he Would fain the face of his darling see; He longed that the babe, who alone could kill The grief of his heart, should be near him still; Day and night he would have him near, A moon the gloom of his soul to cheer. Thus to his sister he said : — " O thou Whom love for me bends like the willow bough, My Yusuf, my child, to my side restore; His absence is grief I can bear no more. Let him come to the place where I pray alone, To the dreary cell where I make my moan."
The sister heard the words that he said; In the sign of obedience she bowed her head, But plotted deep in her heart the while To bring the child back to her home by guile. She had a belt which Isaac had given, i Was weaned and began to eat................: ...............................
in
Worn by him long in the service of Heaven : Free from all evil was he whose hand Bound on his body that blessed band. When she sent the boy to his father, she braced The girdle secretly round his waist, Fastened so deftly that Yusuf felt No strain or touch of the supple belt. So the boy went forth. But a sudden shout And a bitter cry from the dame rang out: " Lost is the girdle I wore." She left None unaccused of the graceless theft. Those of her household came at her call, And, ranged before her, she searched them all. At last came the turn of Yusuf, and round His waist the girdle she sought was found.
There was a law for repressing crime, Fixed for the faithful in ancient time, Which to the injured owner gave The captured thief for his thrall and slave. Thus, by the fraud she had plotted caught, The boy again to her home was brought. Glad was her eye and her soul elate, But that eye soon closed at the stroke of Fate.
The heart of Jacob at last reposed, As he gazed with his fond eyes that never closed; From the sons that were round him he looked away, And turned to him as we turn to pray. For Yusuf now was his only thought In each work that he planned, in each aim that he sought.
Yusuf and Zulaikha.
In Yusuf only his soul had delight, For only Yusuf his eye grew bright.
How may I tell the boy's beauty? Where Could Houri or Peri be found so fair? When the moonlight shines on the landscape, none Would turn to look on a garish sun. He was a moon in the sphere of grace That threw a soft light over life and space : And yet no moon, but a sun that lent His light to the moon of the firmament. But shall I his light to the sun's compare — To the false mirage of the desert air? 'Twas a wondrous ineffable lustre, far Beyond the brightness of things that are; For the One Unspeakable God in that frame Lay concealed under Yusuf s name. How shall we marvel if, fostered long In the father's bosom, his love grew strong ?
Zulaikha, envied of Houris, at rest In her virgin bower afar in the West, Ne'er had seen the sun of his beauty gleam, But was snared by his loveliness seen in a dream. If Love's dominion no distance can bar, When heart is near heart he can never be far.
Zulaikha.
Thus the masters of speech record, In whose bosoms the treasures of words are stored There was a king in the West.1 His name, 1 In Mauritania.


i
404
Jami.
Taimus, was spread wide by the drum of fame.
Of royal power and wealth possessed,
No wish unanswered remained in his breast.
His brow gave lustre to glory's crown,
And his foot gave the thrones of the mighty renown.
With Orion from heaven his host to aid,
Conquest was his when he bared his blade.
His child Zulaikha was passing fair,
None in his heart might with her compare;
Of his royal house the most brilliant star,
A gem from the chest where the treasures are.
Praise cannot equal her beauty, no;
But its faint, faint shadow my pen may show.
Like her own bright hair falling loosely down,
I will touch each charm to her feet from her crown.
May the soft reflection of that bright cheek,
Lend light to my spirit and bid me speak,
And that flashing ruby, her mouth, bestow
The power to tell of the things I know.
Her stature was like to a palm tree grown In the garden of grace where no sin is known. Bedewed by the love of her father the king, She mocked the cypress that rose by the spring. Sweet with the odor of musk, a snare For the heart of the wise was the maiden's hair. Tangled at night, in the morning through Her long thick tresses a comb she drew, And cleft the heart of the musk-deer in twain As for that rare odor he sighed in vain. A dark shade fell from her loose hair sweet

GtD

Yusuf and Zulaikha.
405
As jasmine over the rose of her feet.
A broad silver tablet her forehead displayed
For the heaven-set lessons of beauty made.
Under its edge two inverted Nuns1
Showed, black as musk, their splendid half-moons,
And beneath them lively and bright were placed
Two Sads2 by the pen of her Maker traced.
From Nun to the ring of the Mim 3 there rose,
Pure as silver, like Alif,4 her nose.
To that cipher her mouth add Alif, then
She had ten strong spells for the conquest of men.4
That laughing ruby to view exposed
A Sin5 when the knot of her lips unclosed
At the touch of her pure white teeth, and between
The lines of crimson their flash was seen.
Her face was the garden of Iram,6 where
Roses of every hue are fair.
The dusky moles that enhanced the red
Were like Moorish boys playing in each rose-bed.
Of silver that paid no tithe, her chin
Had a well with the Water of Life therein.
If a sage in his thirst came near to drink,
1	The letter Nun of the Arabic alphabet; pronounced noon.
2	The letter Sad is supposed, in its right-hand portion, to resemble the eye.
3	The small circular part of the letter Mim is compared to a mouth.
4	Alif is a long straight letter; it stands for the number one, and, prefixed to a cipher, notes io.
5	The letter Sin bears a rough resemblance to teeth.
6	A fabulous garden in Arabia, like the Garden of the Hesperides of the Greeks.

He would feel the spray ere he reached the brink,
But lost were his soul if he nearer drew,
For it was a well and a whirlpool too.
Her neck was of ivory. Thither drawn,
Came with her tribute to beauty the fawn;
And the rose hung her head at the gleam of the skin
Of shoulders fairer than jessamine.
Her breasts were orbs of a light most pure,
Twin bubbles new-risen from fount Kafur :1
Two young pomegranates grown on one spray,
Where bold hope never a finger might lay.
The touchstone itself was proved false when it tried
Her arms' fine silver thrice purified ;
But the pearl-pure amulets fastened there
Were the hearts of the holy absorbed in prayer.
The loveliest gave her their souls for rue,2
And round the charm their own heartstrings drew.
Her arms filled her sleeves with silver from them
Whose brows are bound with the diadem.
To labor and care her soft hand lent aid,
And to wounded hearts healing unction laid.
Like reeds were those taper fingers of hers,
To write on each heart love's characters.
Each nail on those fingers so long and slim
Showed a new moon laid on a full moon's brim,
And her small closed hand made the moon confess
That she never might rival its loveliness.
Two columns fashioned of silver upheld
1	Camphor: the name of a well in Paradise.
2	The small black seeds of the wild rue were used in enchantments.

Yusuf and Zulaihba.	40 7
That beauty which never was paralleled, And, to make the tale of her charms complete, They were matched by the shape of her exquisite feet. Feet so light and elastic no maid might show, So perfectly fashioned from heel to toe. If on the eye of a lover she stepped, Her foot would float on the tear he wept.
What shall I say of her gems and gold ? Weak were my tale when my best were told. She was not fairer for gold or gem, -But her perfect loveliness glorified them. Each gem the tax of a realm, she set On her forehead a glistering coronet: And the rubies that hung from her fine ears stole Each gazer's senses, and heart and soul. A thousand jewels most rich and rare Studded the band that confined her hair. Not a hand but hers had the art to twist The bracelet which circled her delicate wrist. What need I say of her jewels more? Glistering anklets of gold she wore. She moved through her chambers in raiment wrought With gold, from Egypt and Syria bought, Or with languishing looks on her couch she leant In brocades which China and Rum 1 had sent. She decked her beauty with some new dress Each mom that she lit with her loveliness. As the moon each night by fresh stars is met, So she wore not twice the same coronet.
i Greece.
408
Jami.
The hem of her mantle alone might gain A kiss of that foot while kings sought it in vain; And no hand but the fold of her robe embraced The delicate stem of her dainty waist.
Maidens like cypresses straight and tall, With Peri faces, obeyed her call; And by day and by night in her service stood The Houris' loveliest sisterhood. No burthen as yet had her sweet soul borne \ Never her foot had been pierced by a thorn. No breath of passion her heart might stir, And to love and be loved was unknown to her. Like the languid narcissus she slept at night, And hailed like an opening bud the light. With silver-faced maidens in childhood's hour, And gazelle-like playmates in garden and bower, Heedless of Fate and its cruel play, Sport was her business and life was gay. By no fear of peril or woe oppressed, Blithe was each thought of her virgin breast, For she knew not the fate that the days would bring, Or what terrible birth from the nights would spring.
The First Vision.
Sweet as the morning of life, the night
Was filled like the springtide of youth with delight.
Each bird was asleep, and each fish in the rill,
And even the stream of event was still.
In this garden, the joy of uncounted eyes,
um^m-
Yusuf and Zulaikba
All were at rest save the stars in the skies.
Night had hushed the tongue of the tinkling bell,
And stolen the sense of the sentinel.
His twisted tail, as he curled him round,
Was a collar to choke the voice of the hound.
The bird of night had no power to sing,
For his reed was cut with the sword of his wing.
The drowsy watchman scarce raised his eye,
And the palace dome, where it rose on high,
Wore, as his senses had well-nigh fled,
The form of a monstrous poppy-head.
The drummer ceased, and his hand, o'ercome
By the might of slumber, lay still on the drum,
Ere the loud-voiced Muezzin calling to prayer
Had rolled up the beds of the sleepers there.
Her narcissus eyes 1 in deep slumber closed,
Sweetly the sweet-lipped Zulaikha reposed.
Tresses of spikenard her pillow pressed,
And the rose of her limbs strewed the couch of her rest,
While the hair dishevelled on that fair head
Wrote on the rose with each silken thread.
The outward eye of the maiden slept,
But the eye of her spirit its vigil kept;
And she saw before her a fair youth stand —
Nay, 'twas a being from spirit-land :
From the world of glory, more lovely far
Than the large-eyed damsels of Paradise are ;
For his face made their beauty and glances dim,
And their glances and beauty were stolen from him.
1 Eyes heavy with sleep are frequently compared to the narcissus.
VfJ



410
Jami.
His form like a sapling was straight and tall,
And the cypress tree was, to him, a thrall.1
His hair, a beautiful chain to bind
The heart of the wisest, flowed unconfined.
The sun and the moon confessed with shame
That a purer light from his forehead came.
The arch2 of the mosque where the holy bow,
Or the canopy made for their rest, was his brow.
His eyes, where the tint of the surma was new,
With a dart from each lash pierced the bosom through,
And the pearls, when the rubies apart were drawn,
Were as lightning's flash through the red of dawn.
Zulaikha saw, and a moment — one — Was too much, for the maid was forever undone. One glance at that loveliest form, which passed Men, and Peris, and Houris, she cast, And to that sweet face and those charms a slave Her heart — nay, a hundred hearts — she gave. From the visional form she would never forget The plant of love in her breast was set.
The Last Vision.
Words would fail me to tell how fair
Was the wondrous beauty she looked on there.
The hem of his garment was fast in her hold,
And over his feet her hot weepings rolled.
And she cried : " O thou, for whose dear love flies
1 The usual epithet of the cypress is " free." a The arch toward which worshippers turn in prayer.

Yusuf and Zulaikha.
All calm from my bosom, all sleep from mine eyes, By the Pure One who made thee so pure from thy birth, And chose thee most fair of the beauties of earth, Pity the anguish I suffer, disclose Thy name and thy city, and lighten my woes."
He answered : " If this may content thee, hear; In Egypt's land I am Grand Vizir. Mid her proudest princes my place is high, And the trusted friend of the king am I."
These words from her idol Zulaikha heard, And her spirit, long dead, with new life was stirred, In the quickening balm of his sweet voice came To her soul new patience, and strength to her frame. She rose from her dream, and her heart was gay;
The cloud of madness had passed away.
*******
Pleasant and gay were Zulaikha's words, And her voice was sweet as a musical bird's; The seal of the casket of speech she broke, And of many a city and country spoke, And of Sham and Rum, and sugar ran down From her lips at mention of Egypt's renown;1 Of the deeds that her people had done of old, Of the Grand Vizir and his state she told. When she spoke of the title she loved so well, As falls a shadow, to earth she fell; She rained down blood from the cloud of her eyes, And the voice of her weeping went up to the skies.
1 Egypt (Misr) was famous for sugar, which in India is still called misri.

9SeThus passed her day and her night; of naught Save her love and his country she spoke or thought. When she mentioned his title, her voice was glad, Else she lay sullen and silent and sad.
The Ambassador.
Day by day Zulaikha's despair
Grew a weight too heavy for her to bear.
In blank pale longing, though overcast
With the black hue of sorrow, her days were passed,
The father pitied the maiden's grief
And counselled thus for her soul's relief:
" A prudent envoy I needs must send
To Egypt's Vizir that her woe may end,
A tender message from her to bear,
That the bonds of love may unite the pair."
He chose a chamberlain deeply skilled : With praise of his wisdom his ear he filled, And with many a present most rich and rare Bade him to Egypt's Vizir repair, And say : " O Prince on whose threshold lies Dust that is kissed by the circling skies, May the favor of Heaven increase each day Thy fame and honor and princely sway. In the House of Purity shines my Sun By whose splendor the envious moon is outdone. Higher her place than the moon's, I ween: Her shadow never the sun has seen. Purer than pearls in their virgin shells Her splendor the lustre of stars excels.Yusuf and Zulaikha,
She veils her moonlight from the world, and debars
From the sight of her beauty the curious stars.
Only her comb may loosen each tress,
And her mirror behold her loveliness.
Only the coils of her hair are blest
On her delicate foot for a while to rest.
The hem of her mantle — and only this —
As she walks in the courtyard her foot may kiss.
Never her chin has been touched by her maid,
On her lip not the sugar-cane's finger laid.
She shrinks away from that flower who throws
The veil of her beauty aside, the rose.
From the sweet narcissus her eyes decline,
For its blossom is heavy and drunk with wine.
Even her shadow's pursuit she would shun,
And fly from the lustre of moon and sun.
To the stream and the fountain she will not repair
Lest her eye should meet her reflection there.
She dwells in her home behind screen and bar,
But the fame of her beauty is known afar.
A hundred kings with their hearts on fire
In eager hope to her hand aspire.
From Rum to Damascus beyond the flood
Each heart for her love has drunk deep of blood.
But longing for Egypt has filled her breast,
And she turns her eye and her heart from the rest.
For Rum she can find in that heart no room,
And gay Damascus is naught but gloom.
Her eye toward Egypt has marked the road,
And the Nile of her tears has for Egypt flowed.

i
414
Jami.
I know but her longing; I know not the cause, Or the charm that to Egypt her spirit draws. 'Tis her destined home, and from Egypt came The dust, I ween, that composed her frame. If in thy sight it seem good, I have planned To send her to thee in her chosen land. If she be not peerless in beauty and grace She may hold in thy palace a menial's place."
The Grand Vizir heard the speech, and, amazed, To the highest heaven his head was raised. He bowed and made answer : " And what am I That a seed of this doubt in my heart should lie ? The grace of thy lord lifts me up from the mire, And 'tis meet that my head to the heavens aspire. I am the dust which the cloud of spring Bedews with the drops which he loves to fling. If a hundred tongues like the grass-blades grew, My tongues to thank him were all too few. The grace of the monarch is guarantee That Fortune ever shall favor me. With the head of my foot, with the eyes of my shoe, I would hasten to meet him, his pleasure to do. But to Egypt's ruler, the great and wise, I am bound so closely by duty's ties, That, were I absent a single hour, I should feel the weight of the sword of his power. Then pardon the servant whom duties bind, And impute not the blame to a haughty mind. Should the king thy lord to my prayer attend, Two hundred litters of gold will I send

Yusuf and Zulaikha.	415
With thousands of boys and maidens, all
Like the Tuba tree,1 graceful, and straight, and tall;
Those boys are noble, and free from vice,
And purer than children of Paradise.
Their laughing lips are most sweet, with rare
Pearl and ruby they bind their hair;
With caps coquettishly set on the side
Of their heads, on saddles of gold they ride.
And the maidens are robed like the Houris; they
Are pure of all blemish of water and clay.
Above their bright faces are full-drawn bows,
And their sweet locks shadow their cheeks of rose.
All gems and jewels their beauty adorn,
And veiled in litters of gold are they borne.
Their guides shall be elders, the pillars of State,
Prudent in council and wise in debate,
To receive the fair maid with due honor, and bring
To my humble home the sweet child of the king."
He ceased : the envoy bowed down his head, And kissed the ground at his feet, and said : " Spring of the glory of Egypt, thou Hast added a grace to thy favors now. But send no escort; my lord will provide From his ample household a train for the bride. The boys and the delicate maids who dwell In his courts are too many for number to tell; Robes of honor in store has he, More than the leaves of a shady tree, Showering gems from a liberal hand
1 Tuba is the name of a tree in Paradise.
416
Jami.
More than the desert has grains of sand; To please thee only his wish is bent, And blest is the man with whom he is content. If the vintage be worthy thy table, he Will quickly send the sweet fruit to thee."
The Departure.
To release Zulaikha's sad heart from pain From Egypt returned the wise chamberlain, And even the selfish rejoiced to hear The message he brought from the Grand Vizir. Her rose of felicity bloomed anew, And the Huma1 of fortune above her flew. A dream had bound her in fetters : she Saw a vision again and her soul was free. So ever from dream or from fancy springs The joy or the sorrow which this world brings. Most happy is he who from both can fly, And lightly pass the dread whirlpool by.
Her father rejoiced, and with care and speed He prepared the escort the bride would need. Thousands of maids in their youthful bloom He chose from the fairest of Rus2 and Rum. Their breasts were pomegranates, their mouths, half-shut,
Showed each like a tender pistachio-nut,
1	The huma is a fabulous bird whose shadow falling on a man's head denotes that he will become a king.
2	Russia,

cto fYusuf and Zulaihha.
417
And over each bosom and cheek was spread
The sweet faint flush of a young rose-bed.
Orient pearls from their fine ears hung,
And black bows over their eyes were strung,
Pure of all dye as the leaves of the rose
In the cool of the morning when zephyr blows.
On tulip blossoms fell scented curls,
And on rounded necks was the glimmer of pearls;
And a thousand boys with bright eyes that took
The heart of a maiden with each long look,
With red caps stuck on their heads oblique,
And loose locks shading each youthful cheek.
Each of his gold-hued garment was vain,
'Twas soft as the rosebud, and tight as the cane.
Each tress escaping, as loosely it flowed,
Like spikenard under a tulip showed.
Their jewelled belts round their fine waists clung,
And a hundred hearts on their bright hair hung.
There were thousand horses of noble breed,
Gentle to saddle, unmatched in speed;
With paces easy as rivulets, all
Fleeter at need than the flying ball.
If they saw but the shade of a falling lash,
Away from the race-course of Time would they dash.
Swift as wild asses they scoured the plain,
And like birds of the water they swam the main.
Their tails were knotted like canes; the dint
Of their strong hoofs shattered the hardest flint.
They flew over the hill like an even lawn,
But stayed their speed when the rein was drawn.
418
Jami.
And a thousand camels, a wondrous sight, With their mountain backs and their stately height. Mountains, supported on pillars, were they, And the course of their tempest no hand might stay. Like holy hermits, their food was spare ; Burthens they bore as the patient bear. Through a hundred deserts unwearied they went, With thorns, as with spikenard and rose, content. They tasted no food and they closed no eye, But toiled on through the sand at the drivers' cry. A hundred loads from the royal store, Each the yearly yield of a province, they bore; Two hundred carpets of rich brocade, In Rum and Damascus and Egypt made; Two hundred caskets of gems most rare,— Pearls, sapphires, Badakhshan's rubies were there ; Two hundred trays with fine musk therein, And amber, and aloe from Comorin. Like a meadow in China each spot was bright Where the driver rested his camels at night.
Her father's care for Zulaikha supplied A litter fair as the bed of a bride. Of the wood of the aloe its frame was made, And the well-joined boards were with gold o'erlaid. Its gold-wrought awning was bright as the sun,— Jamshid 1 never boasted a brighter one. Pearl in clusters, and many a pin And stud of gold decked it without and within; And finest needlework graced each fold
1A celebrated Persian king, the builder of Persepolis.

cfo

Yusuf and Zulaihba.
419
Of the heavy hangings of tissue of gold.
Thus with imperial pomp and pride They carried to Memphis the beautiful bride. Her litter was borne by swift steeds, as the rose Is wafted by winds from her place of repose. Her maidens followed, with figures fine As the graceful cypress, the plane, or the pine; With arm and bosom and cheek and hair Like jasmine sweet or like jasmine fair. You had said that the bloom of the young springtime
Was fleeting away to a distant clime. Iram's garden envied the spot which those Bright flowers of the palace to rest them chose; Where the boys dismounting their pastime took, And the girls from their litters shot many a look, And spread the fine net of their beautiful hair Till each captured her prey in the silken snare; And each boy shot from his eye a dart That enslaved a maiden and touched her heart. Here were seen gallantry, glances, and smiles, The lover's wooing, the maiden's wiles. Lovers and loved were assorted well, Those eager to buy and these ready to sell. Thus each stage of the journey they passed, And Memphis city was gained at last.
Zulaikha—for Fortune now seemed her friend — Had longed in her heart for the journey's end, When the dawn should rise on her night of woe And the pangs of the parted no more she should know.
W
jr V.Ml
a
But oh ! black is the night that before her lies; 'Tis an age till the sun of her joy shall rise.
Through the glare of day, through the gloom of night, They travelled, and Memphis was now in sight. From the city a messenger came at speed — Whose litter the coming pomp should precede To bring the glad news to the Grand Vizir, That she whom he looked for was near, was near. " Rise up, rise up, and with eager feet Thy bliss who approaches go forth to meet."
The Welcome.
To the Grand Vizir the glad news was brought,
And he deemed he had compassed each aim he sought.
He bade proclamation be made, and all
The army of Memphis obeyed the call,
That with full equipment and arms complete,
At the place appointed the hosts should meet.
From head to foot they were bright to behold, Smothered in jewels, and sheen of gold. Myriad boys and maidens were there, With cheeks of the rose, and like full moons fair. Like a palm-tree of gold in the saddle set, Showed each youth with his collar and coronet, And bright in her charms with their sevenfold aid,1 Screened in her litter of gold was each maid;
1 Henna for the hands; surma or kohl for the eyes, wasma for the eyebrows; rouge and sapedab, or white water, for the face; and bracelets and anklets. Other enumerations are also given.

cto
irg-aa*	^	-CrSj ^
Yusuf and Zulaikha.
Loudly in triumph glad voices rang As sweet-toned singers in unison sang, The harp of the minstrel was strung anew, And the music he made was of triumph too.
Of meeting and pleasure the soft flute spoke, And tender thoughts in each heart awoke, While sorrow fled far at the merry din Of the drum, and rebeck, and violin.
Thus in jubilee blithe and gay, The escort from Memphis pursued its way. Three stages, as journeys the moon, they passed, And the sun of beauty was reached at last. To a smooth and spacious meadow they came, Studded with thousands of domes of flame, You had said that the sky had poured down on the plain
Its brightest stars in a golden rain. There rose a pavilion, girt with a wall Of chosen sentinels, high over all. Laughed the Vizir as he saw it gleam, As the orient laughs with the first sunbeam. Swift from his steed he alighted and bent His eager steps to the royal tent. The harem warders came forth to meet The noble, and bowed to the earth at his feet. He asked of their lady, and bade them say, What of the weather and toil of the way.
Of the princely gifts that were with him, those That were fairest and best in his sight he chose : Sweet-smiling boys of his own household,
The ancient Hraven delights to cheat The children of earth with his vain deceit. The heart of the lover with hope he will stay, And then dashes the idle phantom away. The fruit that he longed for was shown afar, And his bosom will bear through his life a scar.
A shadow lay on the ground, and near Zulaikha's tent stood the Grand Vizir. She dropped the rein of patience and prayed For one glance at her love with her nurse's aid. " O thou whose affection through life I have tried, I can bear this longing no longer," she cried. " Near a cup of sweet water the thirsty lip Is maddened with pain if it may not sip."
The faithful nurse marked the maiden's grief, And looked round the wall for a way of relief.


With caps and girdles ablaze with gold;
High-bred horses with golden gear,
Covered with jewels from croup to ear;
Raiment of satin and woven hair,
And pearls from his storehouse most rich and rare;
Sugar of Egypt, with care refined,
And sherbet of every color and kind —
All on the spacious plain were arrayed,
And with courteous words his excuses he made.
He ordered the march at the break of day,
When homeward again he would bend his way.
Despair.
Yusuf and Zulaikha.
423
With her crafty finger she made a rent
Like a narrow eye in the cloth of the tent.
Zulaikha looked through with an eager eye,
But heaved from her bosom a long sad sigh :
" Ah me ! that so wondrous a fate should befall!
Low in the dust lies my half-built wall.
This is not the youth of my vision, he
Whom after long troubles I hoped to see;
Who seized the rein of my heart and stole
With his magic power my sense and soul;
Who told me his secret and gently brought
Reason again to a mind distraught.
Alas ! the star of my hapless fate
Has left me deceived and disconsolate;
Palm trees I planted, but thistles grew:
I sowed Love's seed, but the harvest is rue.
I endured for my treasure long sorrows and toils,
But the guardian dragon my labor foils.
I would cull the rose for the precious scent,
But, alas ! my robe with the thorn is rent.
I am one athirst in a desert land,
Seeking for water and mocked with sand.
Dry is my tongue with unbearable thirst,
And the blood from my ferverous lip would burst.
I see at a distance fair water gleam,
And I struggle and crawl to the tempting stream,
And find no water but sand whereon
Deluding beams of the bright sun shone.
A camel am I, on the mountain strayed,
With a mountain of hunger and toil down-weighed,
The stones are sharp and my feet are sore :
I fear to stay but can move no more.
A form I see with my bloodshot eye,
And I deem that my lost companion is nigh.
My weary steps to his side I bend :
Tis a ravening lion and not my friend.
I am a sailor; my vessel sank,
And I float forlorn on a single plank.
On the restless wave I am tossed on high
And low in the depths of the ocean lie.
A light skiff near me comes on o'er the wave,
And my heart is glad, for it comes to save.
Nearer and nearer my rescue draws:
Ah ! 'tis a shark with his cruel jaws.
Ah me ! of unfortunate lovers none
Is helpless as I am, ah no, not one.
My heart is stolen, my lover is fled :
A stone lies on my back and dust on my head.
O Heaven ! pity my many woes
And a door of hope, in thy mercy, unclose.
If Thou wilt not bring my dear love to my side,
0	save me from being another's bride. Preserve the pure name of the hapless maid, No polluting touch on her vesture laid.
1	made a vow to my lover, mine own, To keep my love ever for him alone. Ah, let not grief my poor heart consume, Nor give to a dragon my virgin bloom."
Thus she ceased not to sigh and complain, And tears on her eyelashes hung like rain.
Yusuf and Zulaikha.
Transfixed with anguish her young heart bled, And low in the dust lay her beautiful head. Then the Bird of Comfort1 came near, and there fell On her ear the sweet message of Gabriel: " Lift thy head, sad maiden, and cease to repine, For easy shall be this sore burden of thine. The Vizir is not he whom thou longest to gain, But without him thy wish thou canst never attain. Through him wilt thou look on thy loved one's eyes, And through him at last thou wilt win the prize."
Zulaikha heard, and in grateful trust Bowed down humbly her head to the dust. She ceased from weeping, and strove like a bud To drink in silence her own heart's blood. Fraught with deep grief was each breath that came, But speechless she suffered woe's scorching flame. Her eyes, though eager, must look and wait, Till the knot shall be loosed by the hand of Fate.
The Reception.
With a drum of gold the bright firmament beat At morn the signal for night's retreat. The stars with the night at the coming of day Broke up their assembly and passed away. From that drum, gold-scattering, light was shed, Like a peacock's glorious plumes outspread.
In princely garb the Vizir arrayed, Placed in her litter the moon-bright maid.
1 Gabriel, the messenger of heaven.
In the van, in the rear, on every side, He ordered his soldiers about the bride, And golden umbrellas a soft shade threw O'er the heads of Zulaikha's retinue. The singers' voices rang loud and high, As the camels moved at the drivers' cry, And the heaven above, and below, the ground Echoed afar with the mingled sound.
Glad were the maids of Zulaikha's train That their lady was free from her sorrow and pain; And the prince and his people rejoiced that she The idol and queen of his house should be. Alone in her litter she wept her woes, And her lamentation to Heaven arose : " Why hast thou treated me thus, O Fate, And left me unhappy and desolate? For what sin against thee, what fault of mine, Hast thou left me hopeless to weep and pine? Thou stolest my heart in a dream, like a thief, And I awoke but to suffer still bitterer grief. But if thou hast ruined my life, mine all, Why, in my folly, on thee do I call? Nay, at the moment when help was near, Thou hast torn me from home, and from all that was dear.
Beneath the weight of one sorrow I bent, And thou addest the burden of banishment. If thine only aid is to rend the breast, Oh ! what must she feel whom thou torturest! Break not the cup of my patience, nor set,

Yusuf and Zulaikha.
427
Again to ensnare me, thy terrible net. Thine was the promise that, sorrows passed, I should find sweet rest for my soul at last. With thy word of comfort I fain was content; But is this the rest that the promise meant?"
Thus Zulaikha, weary and faint With her burden of sorrow, poured forth her plaint. Loud rose the cry of the host meanwhile, " Memphis ! Memphis ! the Nile ! the Nile ! " Horse and foot onward in tumult hied, And rejoicing, stood on the river's side.
To the Grand Vizir, as by duty taught, Trays piled high with treasures they brought, To lade the bride's litter with wealth untold, Of the rarest jewels and finest gold. Each brought his gift, and a mighty cry, Welcome ! welcome ! went up to the sky. On the head of Zulaikha fell pearl in showers As the rain of spring on the opening flowers Till the lady's litter beneath a heap Of countless jewels was buried deep. Wherever the feet of the camels trod, They trampled jewels, not sand or sod. When the spark leapt forth at the courser's dint, The shoe and the ruby were steel and flint; In ranks extended o'er many a mile, Still scattering jewels, they left the Nile, And the rain of pearl from their hands that felt Made each fish's gill like a pearl-rich shell, And the countless derhams they cast therein

Made the crocodile gleam with a silver skin.
Thus the escort in proud array, To the prince's palace pursued their way; Nay, 'twas an earthly paradise ; sun And moon in their splendor were here outdone. In the midst of the palace was set a throne, Fairest of all that the world has known. The hand of a skilful artist had made The glorious seat with fine gems o'erlaid. Close to the throne her litter was placed, And the seat by that jewel of ladies graced. But still no rest to her sad soul came, The gold she pressed was as burning flame. The peerless maiden was brighter yet Than the throne and the crown on her forehead set. But the glittering crown that her temples pressed Increased the mountain of woe in her breast; They showered pearl on her head like rain: It tortured her heart like a flood of pain. Pearls, the desire of the maids of the sky, Filled with the pearls of her tears her eye.
In the battle of Love, who cares for a crown, When a hundred heads to the dust go down? Who for the loveliest pearl will care, When her eye is damp with the dew of despair? Shame on the wretch who would value a throne, When his love is lost, and he pines alone !Sages, who guided the pen of old, Thus the story have framed and told : As Yusuf in stature and beauty grew, His father's heart to himself he drew; The old man turned from the rest aside To his own eye's apple, his joy and pride ; And to him such kindness and favor showed, That the hearts of his brothers with envy glowed.
In the court of the house stood an ancient tree Whose leafy branches were fair to see; In their vesture of green like monks the sprays Danced in a rapture of joy and praise ; From the level ground of the court it grew, And its stately height a long shadow threw; Each leaf on the tree was a vocal tongue, Singing a hymn as the branches swung. To heaven rose the boughs of the topmost stem, Whose birds were the angels who rested on them, When a son to Jacob by God was given; From that tree that rivalled the Lote tree1 in hea A tender branchlet sprouted anew, And still with the growth of the infant grew; And when the boy came to his manhood he Received a green staff from the honored tree. But for Yusuf, first in his father's eyes, A staff from the tree were too mean a prize;
1 The Sidrah or Lote tree is the seat of the angel Gabriel in
1 I
I
I
A severed bough were no gift for one From his own soul's garden, his darling son.
One night the boy to his father cried : " O thou whose wishes are ne'er denied, To the Lord of Paradise offer thy prayer, And win me a staff from the garden there, That whithersoever my feet may stray, From youth to age it may guide my way."
Humbly the father bowed down and prayed, And suit to the Lord for his darling made. Then Gabriel came from the Lote tree's height, A topaz staff in his hand shone bright, That never had suffered a wound or flaw From the axe of Time or from Change's saw, Precious in value, but light to wield, Splendid with hues of its native field. And a voice was heard : " Take the staff I bring, Which shall prop, as a pillar, the throne of a king."
Thus Yusuf by Heaven was favored and blest; But envy burnt fierce in each brother's breast. A hundred wood staves were a lighter load For them than this one which the Lord bestowed. Fell fancy wrought in each bosom apart, And each sowed the seed of deep hate in his heart He nursed the seedling with tender care, But shame was the fruit which the tree should bear,
Yusuf's Dream.
How blest is he who can close his eye And let the vain pageants of life pass by
Yusuf and Zulaikba.
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Untouched by the magic of earth can keep
His soul awake while the senses sleep;
Scorn the false and the fleeting that meets the view,
And see what is hidden and firm and true.
Before the eyes of his sire one night, Who loved him more than his own eyesight, Yusuf his head on a pillow laid, And slept while a smile on his sweet mouth played. But the heart of Jacob was troubled while On that sleeping face he beheld the smile. When, damp with the dew of their soft repose, Those eyes of narcissus began to unclose, And, like his own fortune, the boy was awake. Thus to his darling the father spake : " Why, O sweeter than sugar, didst thou Wear a sugar-sweet smile on thy lip but now?" And Yusuf answered : " Father, I dreamed, And the sun and moon and eleven stars seemed To gather about me, high honor to pay, And their heads before me in dust to lay." " Beware," said the father, " my son, beware; Thy secret vision to none declare. Let not thy brothers the story know : In a hundred ways they would work thee woe. With hatred and envy their heart is stirred; They would hate thee more if the tale were heard. The thought of this dream they would ne'er endure, For the meaning thereof is too clear and sure." Thus, in his prudence the father spoke; But Fate the chain of his counsel broke.$r~--———'.................................
432
Jami.
One with whom Yusuf the secret shared, To all the brothers the tale declared. The secret that passes beyond a pair, Is bruited abroad on the moving air. " Yes," said the sage, " but that pair are the lips, And no secret is that which beyond them slips." The fury of carnage has oft been stirred, And nobles have died for a spoken word. Wise is the saw of the sage who said, " Who heeds his secret will keep his head." When the wild bird flies from her cage, in vain Will ye follow her flight to ensnare her again. When the tale to the ears of the brothers came, They rent their garments with hearts aflame : "What ails our father," they cried, "that he His loss and advantage should fail to see? What can come of a foolish boy But the childish play that is all his joy ? He works on all with deceit and lies, And raises his value in folly's eyes. Our aged father his wiles ensnare, And life with him will be hard to bear. He rends the bond of affection apart, And engrosses the love of our father's heart. Not content with the favor his arts have gained, He wishes that we, pure-hearted, unstained, Should bend our heads and adore in the dust The stripling raised high by his father's trust; Nay, father and mother, as well as we : What will the end of this madness be ?

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TYusuf and Zulaikba
We, not this boy, are our father's friends; On us, not on him, his welfare depends. On the hills in the daytime we guard his sheep, And our nightly watch in his house we keep. Our arm protects him from foemen's might, And we, mid his friends, are his glory and light. What is there in him but his guile that thus His head is exalted o'er all of us? Come, let us counsel together and plot To drive him away to a distant spot. Ne'er has he felt for our griefs and pains, And banishment now the sole cure remains. Quick to the task we must needs away ! Still it is left us to choose the way. The thorn that springs fast for mischief should be Torn up from the root ere it grow to a tree."
The Plot.
When Yusuf s brothers, with hatred fired,
Against the innocent boy conspired,
Said one : " Our hearts in our sorrow have bled,
And his blood should flow for the blood he has shed.
When the arm of the slayer is lifted to smite,
Can ye save your lives by a timely flight?
Let him die the death, and our task is sped :
There comes no voice from the lip of the dead."
" Nay," cried a second, " 'tis not for us
To compass the death of the guiltless thus.
Though we check his folly, he may not bleed ;We hold, remember, the one true creed.
We shall gain our end if we drive him hence
As well as by death-dealing violence.
Let us hide him far from our father's eyes
Where a wild and desolate valley lies ;
In a waste full of pitfalls, from help afar,
Where the ravenous wolves and the foxes are;
His only water the tears of despair,
And his only bread the sun's scorching glare;
Where the night around him for shade shall spread,
And thorns be the pillow to rest his head.
He may linger awhile neath the lonely sky,
But soon of himself he will waste and die,
Not a stain of his blood on our swords, and we
From the sword of his guile and deceit shall be free."
" Nay, this, my brother," a third broke in,
" Were the worst of murders and grievous sin.
'Tis better to perish, if die we must,
Not of hunger and thirst, but a dagger's thrust.
This is my counsel, which seems more fit,
To search near and far for a deep dark pit,
And therein, cast down from his place of pride,
In sorrow and darkness the youth to hide.
Some travelling merchants may pass that way,
And halt at the well at the close of day.
They may lower for water a bucket and cord,
And the boy to the air will be thus restored.
Some merchant who looks on the prize will be glad
To take for a son or a slave the lad,
Who, carried away to a distant place,
Vmsm/ Zulaikha.
435
Will vex us no longer with pain and disgrace."
Soon as he spoke of this living grave, The brothers approved of the counsel he gave. Unheeding the pit of their murderous thought, The pit of dishonor they wildly sought. In their evil purpose they all agreed The heart of their father to wound and mislead. Then to their labor they turned, each one; And the morrow was fixed for the deed to be done.
Deceit.
Blest are the souls who are lifted above
The paltry cares of a selfish love;
And conquering sense and its earthly ties,
Are dust in the path of the love they prize ;
Who add no weight to another's care,
And no weight of reproach from another bear,
But in this sad world are resigned to their lot,
Support their brethren and murmur not ■
Who sleep with no malice or fraud in their breast,
And rise as pure from their welcome rest.
The foes of Yusuf came glad and gay As they thought of the counsel of yesterday, With love on their tongue, in their heart fraud and lies,
Like wolves that have taken the lamb's disguise, In reverent duty their father to see, And bowed them down on the bended knee. They opened the flattering door of deceit,
I
1
And the words they uttered were soft and sweet. They spoke awhile of things old and new, And near and more near to their object drew : " Father, we weary of resting at home ; Through the plain around us we fain would roam. If thou wilt grant the permission we pray, Hence will we wander at break of day. Our brother Yusuf, the light of thine eyes, Knows not the region which round us lies. Wilt thou not send him with us ? Our joy Will be great to attend on thy darling boy. He stays in the house through the weary day : Send him out with us to rove and play. Through the field and the plain his steps we will guide, Up to the slope and the steep hill's side. We will milk the ewes in the grassy field, And drink with delight the sweet draught they yield. Through beds of tulips our way will pass, And our playground will be the carpet of grass. We will steal the bright crowns of the tulips, and set Their bloom on his brow for a coronet, And the boy thus decked we will gently lead In his graceful gait through the flowery mead. We will watch the herds of the browsing deer, And the wolf shall be slain if he venture near. Perchance the fresh scene will his spirit restore, And the dulness of home will oppress him no more. Set a thousand marvels before a child, Still only by play is his heart beguiled." The father heard as their suit they pressed,Shame, conjuring Heaven, whose fell delight Is to bury each morn a fair moon from sight! Who givest for prey to the wolf the gazelle That browses at ease in life's flowery dell.
When Yusuf in charge to those wolves was given, " See, they harry a lamb," cried pitiless Heaven. While yet in the ken of their father's eyes, Each strove, as in love, to be nearest the prize. One raised him high on his back, and round
The Well.
But turned away and refused their request. " Why should he follow you ? " thus he spake ; " My heart is sad for my darling's sake. I fear lest, eager and reckless, ye The perils about him may fail to see. I fear lest a wolf from the neighboring waste Should sharpen his teeth the boy's blood to taste; Should tear with keen fangs each delicate limb, And rend my soul as he mangles him."
Thus was their suit by the father denied : Again to move him their arts they tried : " Think us not, father, such feeble men That a single wolf can o'ermatch the ten. We can seize, as we seize a fox, and slay A lion making of men his prey."
Thus they insisted. The father heard : He gave no refusal, he spoke no word. But his will at last by their prayers was bent, And woe brought on his house by his silent consent.
Yusuf and Zulaikba.His waist another his strong arm wound. But the touch of each hand was more rough and rude, When they came to the desert of solitude. From the shoulder of pity the burden they threw, Where the flint-stones were hard, and the sharp thorns grew.
Through the pitiless briers he walked unshod, His rosy feet rent by the spines where he trod, As he walked barefooted by thistle and thorn, The silver skin of his hand was torn. The tender soles of his young feet bled, And, soft as the rose, like the rose were red. If he lingered a moment behind the band, One smote his fair cheek with a ruthless hand. May the vengeful sword on the fierce hand fall Which struck the fair face which is loved of all! If he walked before them they rained their blows On his neck like a rebel's till red wheals rose. May each hand be bound to the neck with a chain, That gave his soft neck that unmerited pain ! If he walked abreast in his trembling fear, Hard hands on each side of him pulled his ear. May the savage have naught but his fingers to clasp, Who could hold that ear in his merciless grasp ! When he clung to one's skirt with a loud lament, He was flung aside, and his collar rent. When he lay at their feet in his utter dread, They laughed as their cruel feet pressed on his head. When his pale lips uttered a bitter cry, With jeer and reproach came the harsh reply.
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Yusuf and Zulaikba.
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In the depth of despair with wild words he complained, And the rose of his cheek like the tulip was stained. Now in the dust, now in blood the boy lay, And heartbroken cried in his utter dismay: <l Where art thou, my father, where art thou ? Why Wilt thou heedlessly leave me to suffer and die ? See the son of her whom thou lovedst so well ; See those who against wisdom and duty rebel. What their hearts have devised for thy heart's love, see, And how they repay obligation to thee. From the ground of thy soul a young rosebud grew, And thy tender love fed it and nursed it with dew. By anguish and thirst it lies withered and dried, Its life is departing, its bright hues have died. In a garden kept with each loving device, Was planted a scion of Paradise. By the blast of oppression the plant is o'erthrown, By the thorn and the thistle its height overgrown. The moon whose fair light for thy guidance was shed, Which the dark gloom of fate ever failed to o'erspread, Has suffered such hardship from Heaven on high, That it prays the new moon its faint light to supply."
Onward thus for a league they went, He longing for peace, they on slaughter bent. He was all tenderness, they were stern; His prayers were warm, their words cold in return. They came at last to a well where they Rested awhile from the toil of the way. Like the grave of a tyrant, deep, dark as night, It struck with horror the reason's sight.

1fii
Like the mouth of a dragon its black jaws gaped — A terrible portal whence none escaped. A tyrant's dungeon was not so deep, Where deadly snakes o'er the prisoner creep. The depth was too deep for the reach of sense, And wide was its horror's circumference. Dire was the centre, the circle despair: The spring was bitter and poison the air. For living creature to draw a breath In that terrible pit were his instant death. No depths could be found better suited to quell That rosy-cheeked moon than that horrible well.
Once more he endeavoured to move them ; again Sought to touch their hard hearts in so soothing a strain That, could it have heard his sweet pleading, a stone Softer than wax in its fibres had grown. But the heart of each brother grew harder still, More firm the resolve of each murderous will. How shall I tell it? My heart grows weak ; Of the deed they accomplished I scarce can speak. On that delicate arm for which, soft and fair, The silk of heaven were too rough to wear, They firmly fastened a goat-hair cord Whose every hair seemed a piercing sword. A woollen rope round his delicate waist Fine as a hair was securely braced. His coat from his beautiful shoulders had slipped, And he stood like a rose when her leaves are stripped. So they rent the robe of their honor away, And clothed them with shame till the Judgment Day.


Yusuf and Zulaikba.
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They lowered him down in the deep dark well, And sunk in the water half-way he fell. Down into darkness by Fate was hurled The sun that illumined the whole wide world.
But a stone jutting out from the rocky side, Above the water a seat supplied. That humble stone, as high Fate ordained, A value greater than rubies gained. The bitter water beneath his feet At the sight of that ruby, his lip, grew sweet. The well shone with the splendor his fair cheek shed, Like the face of the earth with the moon o'erhead. The fragrance that breathed from his flowing hair Purged of its poison the deadly air, And snakes and venomous creatures fled From his radiant face and the light it spread.
A shirt in an amulet round him slung, Which had saved his grandsire from the flame, was hung;
To Abraham sent by Rizvan,1 when the flame Like a garden of roses about him became. From the Sidra tree Gabriel came in haste, And the heavenly gift from his arm embraced. The precious shirt from within he drew, And o'er that pure body the garment threw. Then spoke the angel: " Lone mourner, see,
1 Abraham was by the order of Nimrod thrown into the fire. He wore a silken shirt, sent to him from Heaven, and the flame turned into a bed of roses. The shirt was transmitted through Isaac and Jacob to Yusuf. Rizvan is the porter of Paradise.

ol

442
Jami.
The Eternal Himself sends a message to thee :
' The day is nigh when I bring that band,
Who in false-hearted malice thy death have planned,.
Before thy presence to bend and bow
With hearts deeper wounded than thine is now.
Then recall to thy brothers their crime and shame,
But keep from their knowledge thy story and name.' "
The words of Gabriel cheered his heart, And bade his sorrow and pain depart. In calm content on the jutting stone He sate like a king on his royal throne, While the faithful angel, if grief should stir The heart of the boy, was a minister.
The Caravan.
Blest was the lot of the caravan From which, when he thirsted at eve, a man From that well in the desert his bucket drew, And brought unburied the moon to view; Which three days in the depth had been forced to dwell
Like the moon of Nakhshab1 in Nakhshab's well.
On the fourth bright mom when the Yusuf of day2 Arose from the gulf where entombed he lay, There came by good fortune a caravan, Passing to Egypt from Midian.
1	The " Veiled Prophet of Khorasan " is said to have caused & luminous body like the moon to rise out of a well at Nakhshab in, Turkestan.
2	The sun.


Yusuf and Zulaikba.
443
By the weary length of the way distressed They halted there and unloaded to rest. High fate was theirs to have wandered far And found Yusuf himself for a guiding star. The weary merchants halted, and first To the well they hastened to quench their thirst. Happy was he who most speedily pressed To that Water of Life and outstripped the rest, And, a second Khizar1 of high renown, Sent through the darkness his bucket down. Then Gabriel called to Yusuf, " Shed The water of grace on the world," he said. " Take thy seat in the bucket a brighter sun, And from west to east in thy swift course run. Thine horizon shall be the well's circular brim, And shall ne'er, while thou shinest, be dark or dim. Send forth a beam from thy face, and through The whole wide world light shall shine anew." Then Yusuf sprang from the stone, and fleet As water took in the bucket his seat. A strong man drew it, one skilled to say What the water he drew from a well should weigh. " What may there be in the bucket beside The water that makes it so heavy?" he cried. When that moon appeared, from his happy soul Burst a cry of rapture beyond control:
" O joy, that so lovely a moon to illume The world should arise from the depth of gloom,
1 The prophet Khizar, or Elijah, is the guardian of the Water of Life.

-==
And out of the bitterest spring a stream Of light and glory should suddenly gleam ! "
So for him grew a rose in that desolate spot; But he to his fellows revealed it not. To the place where he rested the youth he bare, And gave him in charge to his people there. Unworthy his lot is the man, unwise, Who hides not his treasure from envious eyes.
But the brothers had lingered not far from the well, And they bumed in their hearts to know what befell; They saw the merchants arrive and stood Waiting for news in the neighborhood. To Yusuf they called with a secret cry, But a hollow echo came back in reply. To the caravan with quick steps, intent On claiming the boy as their slave, they went, And with toil and labor they made their way Within the ring where the merchants lay. "This is our slave," as they touched him, they cried; " The collar of service his hand has untied. The bonds of his duty were loosened, and he From the yoke of his masters has dared to flee. Though born in our house we will gladly sell The idle boy who will never do well. When a slave is negligent, idle, perverse, Ever growing from bad to worse, 'Tis better to sell him, though small the price, Than suffer still from his rooted vice. We will labor no more to improve the wretch, But sell him at once for the price he may fetch."
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Yusuf and Zulaikba.	445
He was sold for a trifle to him whose cord Had brought him up to the light restored. Malik — so named was the merchant — gave A few pieces for Yusuf as household slave. Then the traders arising their march renewed, And onward to Egypt their way pursued.
Woe unto those who that treasure sold, And bartered their souls for some paltry gold ! No life, nor the treasures of Egypt, could buy One word from his lip or one glance from his eye. Only Jacob his sire and Zulaikha, the true, The priceless worth of that treasure knew. But his worth was unknown to those blinded eyes, And they took a few pence for the blessed prize.
The King.
Thus Malik gained with no labor the prize That fell to his fortunate merchandise. Such joy in the sight of his purchase he found That scarcely his foot seemed to touch the ground. With the hope that was in him his heart was gay, And with double marches he sped on his way.
Ere to the city of Memphis he came, The story was bruited abroad by fame : " Malik returns from his journey this morn With a slave of the race of the Hebrews born : A moon in the zenith of beauty, above All others a king in the realm of love. In the picture-house of the earth the skiesHave not seen his peer with their thousand eyes." The King of Egypt the rumor heard, And the heart within him was strangely stirred : " Is not Egypt the garden of beauty ? Where Can the eye see roses so bright and fair? The roses of heaven would droop from their stem And hide their shamed heads in the dust before them, Then he cried in haste to the Grand Vizir :
" Go, meet the merchants whose train is near, Go forth this moon of rare beauty to see, And lead him straight to my court with thee."
The noble obeyed ; the merchants he met, And his eyes on that joy of the soul were set. At the sight of that beauty his senses fled, And he fain would lie down in obeisance his head. But Yusuf raised him as lowly he bent, And chid the obeisance he might not prevent: " Bow down thy head to none living beside Him who set that head on thy neck," he cried.
He called for Malik and bade him bring The beautiful slave to the court of the king. But Malik answered : " We thought not yet In the monarch's palace our feet to set. We are weary and worn with the length of the way, And crave of thy kindness some rest and delay. With wakeful nights and with hunger distressed We need three days to recruit and rest. We will wash off the dust, and refreshed after toil, Will wait on the king without spot and soil." The Grand Vizir gave his ready consent,
Y

Yusuf and Zulaikha.
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And again to the king and his duties went.
Of the beauty of Yusuf he spoke but a word,
Yet the king's jealous heart at the story was stirred.
He gave command, and they picked and chose,
As ye cull from a rose-bed each fairest rose,
The most beautiful boys that the land possessed,
In the kingdom of beauty kings over the rest:
With dainty caps bright with glittering gold,
And shawls of brocade round their shoulders to fold :
With a jewelled girdle round each fine waist,
And gay lips sweeter than sugar to taste;
That when Yusuf s owner should spread the tale
Of his marvellous beauty, and bring him for sale,
They to the market should come and display
Their fair forms and features in rival array.
Then were he the sun, their more beauty would dim
His splendor, and chill the demand for him.
The Bath.
Past were the promised three days, and on
The blue heaven of the Nile1 the sun Yusuf shone.
" O world-adomer," said Malik, " awhile
Light with thy splendor the bank of the Nile.
Bathe in the stream, and the waters shall flee
More bright with the dust they shall borrow from thee."
That sun of beauty the order obeyed : Alone on the bank of the flood he strayed.
i The Persian word nil signifies both " blue " and " Nile." Jami frequently plays upon the two meanings of the word.
His cap of bright gold he removed from his head, And his raven locks to the sun dispread; He threw off his robe, and his limbs were bare Like the moon that shines through the cloudless air; And his neck and shoulders were tinged with a flush Like the first faint hue of the morning's blush. A bathing-robe round his waist he tied, And the cypress of silver hung o'er the stream's side. The voice of the heavens cried : " Blest, O blest Is the bank of the Nile which his feet have pressed. Ah, if in the place of the flood I might kiss Those delicate feet, how supreme were the bliss ! Nay, the sun would bend down from his noonday height,
And give the glad waters his fountain of light. Yet he heeds not that fountain of splendor, but laves The dust from his limbs in the turbid waves."
He entered the river, awhile to shine In the stream like the sun in the Watery Sign. He dipped the fair face that was bright as a sun, As the lotus dips where the sweet waters run. He struck the waves with each naked limb, And the waters lived at the touch of him. He loosened the chains of his hair while the fleet Stream made a chain for his silver feet, And to capture the spoil of the river he set From the moon to the Fish 1 a fine amber-sweet net.
i That is, from above the earth to under it, with an allusion also to the fish in the river. The earth is said to rest on Gau or the Bull, and Gau on Mahi or the Fish.
Yusuf and Zulaikba
Now a stream from his hand on his beautiful head, Like the Pleiades decking the moon, was shed. Now he rubbed the rose where the big drops lay, Now combed with his fingers the spikenard spray.1 Then pure from all dust of the journey he Rose up on the bank like a cypress-tree. Then he put on his raiment: the rose of his skin Was enhanced by the white of the jessamine.2 About his body his coat he drew, Worked with fine fancy of many a hue. A gold-bright cap on his brow he placed, And girt with a zone rich with jewels his waist. Loose hung his ambrosial tresses, and lent To the breezes of Egypt the breath of their scent.
Again in his litter the youth was placed, And they drove to the court of the king in haste. There in front of the palace gate High on a throne was the king in state, And the fairest boys of the realm stood near Expecting when Yusuf himself should appear, And a thousand eyes to the litter flew As near to the throne of the king it drew. It chanced the clouds in their dense array Hid the light of the sun that day. Then Malik gave order to Yusuf: " Spring From the litter and come to the throne of the king. Cast the veil from thy face, for a sun art thou, And the world shall be gay with the light of thy brow."
1	His hair.
2	His shirt.
S3



i
450
Jami.
He spoke ; and the lovely boy sprang to the ground, And shot sunlike rays on the circle round. " 'Tis the blessed sun," thought the wondering crowd, "That has come from the screen of his dark blue cloud."
But they turned their eyes to the sun, and knew It was not his rays that the splendor threw, For the dark cloud still o'er the sun was spread. And the face of Yusuf the radiance shed. They clapped their hands, and on every side Rose up a murmur of voices that cried : " What, O Heaven, is the brilliant star Outshining the sun and the moon by far?" And the darlings of Egypt looked down disgraced As they saw their beauty by his effaced. When the sun shines forth in his splendor, where Is the faintest star in the Lesser Bear?
Recognition.
Ne'er had it entered Zulaikha's heart
That one stage kept herself and her darling apart.
But a secret impulse at work in her breast
Filled her with longing and wild unrest.
She strove to calm it, and knew not whence
Came the hidden yearning that moved each sense.
She roamed in the meadow for change and relief,
For the house seemed a dungeon of care and grief.
But still each day was weary and slow,
And she gnashed her teeth in her depth of woe.
z&mmmmi'^mmmmmm^mmm^^mm^

Yusuf and Zulaikba.
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She gathered all luxuries round her in vain,
For each moment that passed but increased her pain.
Her fountain of tears was outwept, and her mind
To change once more and to home inclined.
Again in her litter the lady lay
And hastened back on her homeward way.
On her journey homeward Zulaikha sped,
And her road by the gate of the palace led.
And she asked, as the press of people she viewed,
If Doomsday had gathered the multitude.
One made answer and said to her : " Nay,
A youth from Canaan is here to-day :
No slave is he, but a splendid sun,
In the kingdom of beauty the brightest one."
She raised the curtain, her glances fell On the form and features she knew so well. A long sigh burst from her heart as she lay Back in her litter, her senses astray. Home with their lady the servants pressed ; In her secret chamber they laid her to rest. Again the light in her sad eyes burned, And her senses, lost in her swoon, returned. " Say, light of my soul," cried the nurse, " say why From thy troubled breast came that bitter sigh. What reft thy senses away ? What woes Made thy sweet lips with a cry unclose?" " Dear mother," she said, "what reply can I make? At each word I say must my bosom ache. Thou sawest that youth in the midst of the press, While the people were praising his loveliness.
It is he, my beloved, so long adored, My life and my treasure, my love and my lord, Whose face in my vision I saw when my soul, Lured by his splendor, burst forth from control; For whom body and soul burnt with feverous flame, For whom tears of blood from these fountains came; Whose dear love led me to this far land When I came to this city to yield him my hand. By him from my home and my friends was I torn, And left amid strangers unfriended, forlorn. The pangs thou hast witnessed, the long weary sighs, The woes that have banished all rest from mine eyes, For him all these sorrows were suffered, for him My heart was heavy, mine eyes were dim. I know not what grief has assailed me to-day, But my woes in my breast like a mountain weigh. What court as a king does my fair moon grace? What chamber is blest with the light of his face ? Whose eye takes the splendor his glances shed? And whose house does he turn to a sweet rose-bed ? Who wins from those fresh lips a life-giving kiss And beneath the fair cypress reposes in bliss ? Whose fingers the braid of his tresses entwine ? Who joys in the shade of that palm to recline? Who would give all her treasure to purchase the prize And make dust for his feet of the tint of her eyes?" When the loving nurse saw whence the fierce passion came,
She wept like a candle that melts with the flame. She said : " Lamp of beauty, hide, hide this fire ;t
A
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Conceal thy longing and sweet desire. Long hast thou suffered in patience thy woe : This day, too, endeavor like patience to show. For hope from thy patience at length may arise, And thy sun may burst forth from the cloud where he lies."
The Slave-market.
Blest is the time, of all hours most sweet, When two fond lovers, long parted, meet. When love's touch burns with a steady ray, And the pangs of longing have passed away.
The beauty of Yusuf so charmed each eye That thousands of Memphis came round to buy. Each one his costliest treasure sold, And ran to the mart with the ready gold. They say an old crone for his beauty sighed : She caught up a handful of yarn and cried : " No gold or silver to show have I, But this will admit me with those who would buy."
The crier shouted : " Come, listen to me. Who would purchase a slave from all blemish free ? The first dawnings of grace on his young cheek shine, And his lip is a ruby from beauty's mine. High wisdom's stamp on his brow is impressed, And the gentle virtues have filled his breast. He speaks no word but the truth alone, And fraud and falsehood to him are unknown." The first who spoke in the dense array


454
Jami.
A bag of red gold for the boy would pay:
A bag containing, all duly told,
A thousand coins of the finest gold.
Then others on horseback the market sought,
And a hundred bags, each of like value, brought.
Another outbid them all and would pay
As much fine musk as the boy might weigh.
Another priced him at higher rate
And offered in ruby and pearl his weight.
Thus each tendered his wealth in store,
And the price of Yusuf rose more and more.
Zulaikha was aware of the strife and stir, And the highest offer was doubled by her. Their lips were closed, and their faces blank, As low on the knee of despair they sank. To the Grand Vizir in her haste she spake : "The price of the slave to his owner take." He answered : " The musk and the pearl and gold, And all the wealth that my treasuries hold, Not half the price of the boy would be; And how can the ransom be paid by me?"
She had a casket of jewels — nay, A vault of heaven where the bright stars lay; And of all the gems of her treasure few Were less valued than Egypt's whole revenue. " Take these jewels," she cried, "O my soul's dear gem,
And pay the price of the boy with them." With fresh excuses he met her prayer : " The king will buy him, a slave so fair,
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Yusuf and Zulaikha.	455
And set over all, at his household's head, A youth so true and so gently bred." " Hasten," said she, " to the king, and all Thy faithful care to his mind recall. Say, ' Bar to my joy have I only one, That mine eyes may look on no darling son.1 Enhance my state by the boon I crave, And leave me free to command the slave.' "
Zulaikha spoke, and her lord obeyed : Before the king his request he laid. Just was the plea, and the monarch bent His ear to listen, and gave assent. He gave him permission the slave to buy And look on the boy with a father's eye.
He brought the youth to his home; and she, Zulaikha, at length from her grief was free. Thus in a rapture the lady cried As her eyes from the pearls of her joy she dried : " Can it be real, this bliss supreme ? Have I found my love, or is all a dream ? Ne'er could I hope in the gloom of night To look on the dawn of a day so white. The moon of triumph her splendor shows : Night has no sorrow and day no woes. My gentle friend will my secrets share — Thanks be to Heaven who has heard my prayer. Who is blest like me in this world of grief,
1 Zulaikha's nominal husband belonged to " that unhappy class which a practice of immemorial antiquity in the East excluded from the pleasures of love and from the hope of posterity."
When verdure revisits the faded leaf ? I gasped for water, but none was nigh : The sun was fierce and the sand was dry. From the cloud of grace came the gentle rain And bore the poor fish to her native main. I wandered lost in the gloom of night, My soul on my lips for toil and affright. A fair moon rose in the east and led My faint steps home with the light it shed. I lay on my bed, I was tortured with pain, With the lancet of Death in my heart's vital vein, When suddenly Khizar appeared in the room, And with Water of Life brought me back from the tomb.
Now thanks be to Heaven who has sent me my friend,
And brought the long woes of my life to an end.
A thousand lives be that noble heart's prize
Who brought to the market such merchandise.
If my jewels are gone, and I gain a rich mine
Of jewels instead, shall I fondly repine !
What are jewels and gems when compared with a soul ?
He is welcome, whate'er they may be, to the whole.
I recover my soul, and a few stones are lost:
Whoe'er bought such a prize at so paltry a cost?
What does he gain by his traffic who sells
The blessed Isa1 for coral and shells ?2
My coral and shells I have bartered away:
But Isa the blessed is mine to-day."
1	Jesus.
2	Things of little worth.
Yusuf and Zulaikba.
457
She sifted these thoughts in the sieve of her soul, And let pearls of tears from her glad eyes roll. Now she thought of Yusuf but spoke no word, Though her heart with the joy of his presence stirred, Again she recounted the woes that were past, And her soul rejoiced : he had come at last.
Love's Service.
When the prize to the net of Zulaikha came,
Heaven struck its coin in her happy name.
The care of Yusuf was now her task,
And no higher joy would the lady ask.
Silk embroidered with gold and brocade
To suit his stature her care arrayed.
Gold-wrought coronets, studded zones
Bright with the lustre of precious stones ;
For each day of the year a new dress to wear
She saw provided, and ceased from her care.
When the breath of morning was fresh with dew,
With a bright fresh robe to his side she flew.
When the Lord of the East with red gold was crowned,
With a new gold circlet his brow she bound.
Each day that the cypress upreared his pride,
In varied fashion his zone she tied,
Changed each morning that sunlight shone
Stealing the heart that it looked upon.
Never two days might the same crown press
The head of that cypress of loveliness.
Never, though sweet as the sugar-cane,

458
Jami.
Might he wear the same girdle like it again. With a thousand kisses she cried, as she set On his temples a glittering coronet: " May the dust of thy feet be to me for a crown, For a ladder to climb the tall height of renown !" When over his shoulders his robe she drew, She communed thus with the vest anew : " Oh, that this body of mine might be, To cling to his body, one thread of thee !" The shawl she folded about his breast In amorous words like these was addressed : " Ah, how I long for that cypress-tree, To be folded close to his heart like thee ! " When round his waist she adjusted the zone, In these wild words was her passion shown: " Ah, that mine arms were that girdle to fold The waist of my love in their clinging hold ! " When she combed the locks of his curling hair, She found a balm for her sorrow there. But ah, from its amber she wove and set, To tangle her soul in its meshes, a net. For breakfast and supper he might not leave The lady's chamber at morn and eve, Ever supplied by her tender care With varied dishes of daintiest fare. Sweet sugar-candy his lips supplied, And his teeth were the kernels that almonds hide. The fairest fruit that the summer brings in Was that silver apple, his rounded chin. Now, like her heart as it burnt in the flame,
cfc 1tYusuf and Zulaikha.
1	Her eyes.
2	Hair black as a Dev, with a face fair as a Peri's,
She gave him the breast of some wingM game. Now soft fruits which her care had dried, Sweet as her lips were, her hand supplied. She made him sherbet with sugar sweet; But a flush came o'er her and drops of heat. Whate'er he might fancy, as swift as the thought Of her own fond bosom, Zulaikha brought. When the day was done and he fain would close His weary eyelids in soft repose, A coverlet dainty and gay was spread O'er the silk and brocade of his sumptuous bed. Covered with roses the young rose-spray Pillowed on tulip and jessamine lay. Then many a story with magic spell, To clear the dust from his soul, would she tell. When slumber a veil o'er his heavy eyes drew She watched in her fever the whole night through, Feeding the while on his beauty's lawn Her pair of wild roes 1 till the light of dawn. O'er his eyes like the sleeping narcissus she bent, And inhaled with rapture the young bud's scent. Now on a tulip her fingers would close, Now from the rose-bed she gathered a rose. Then she would look on his hair and say: " O hair beloved of grace's rose-spray, Tears of blood from my sad eyes well Because thou, a Dev, with a Peri wilt dwell!"2 Thus in her passion she made lament,Till the long night, black as her hair, was spent. Ever busied in cares like these, Her day and night passed without rest or ease. Her constant thought to his wants she gave, And, queen of the house, was his humble slave.
Ah ! fond and weak is a lover, fain To toil that the loved one be spared a pain. If dust or a thorn in his love's path lie, He would sweep it away with the lash of his eye, And will wait with his soul in that eye for her To bend a kind look on her worshipper.
The Shepherd.
Blest is the lover allowed by Fate
About his beloved to serve and wait.
All thought of himself to the wind is thrown,
And his care and time are for her alone.
Would she have his life? At her feet it lies :
He kisses the ground that she treads, and dies.
Would she take his heart ? Straight that heart is filled
With love's warm blood from his eyes distilled.
His head is a foot when she bids him rise,
And he deems her service a lordly prize.
Oft has a shepherd been known to claim, As the guard of religion, a prophet's name ; And stronger and stronger in Yusufs heart Grew his rooted love for the shepherd's part. Soon as the wish of the boy she knew, rein, as he guided, Zulaikha drew.Yusuf and Zulaikba.
She ordered those skilled in the art to bring
For the use of her darling a dainty sling,
With gold like the sunlight, woven with care,
And bright as the threads of his fragrant hair.
Ah, how she longed in her heart that she
Herself one thread of the sling might be !
" Mine arm round his body I may not twine,
But a touch of his hand would be surely mine.
But ah, can I wish with one single hair
To add to the weight which that hand must bear?"
Rarest gems in the sling she set,
And pearls such as made her own eyes so wet:
And the precious rubies a king would prize
Were as worthless stones in the lady's eyes.
Then she bade the shepherds who fed their sheep
On the grassy plain and the mountain-steep
Choose from their flocks, like the Ram1 that feeds
In the heavens, the best of the finest breeds —
Lambs fed on spikenard, like the roes of Cathay,
Whom the wolf had ne'er looked on to make his prey.
And Yusuf departed to shepherd these,
Like the spring sun entering Aries.
Like a young musk-deer alone, astray,
To the lambs in the valley he bent his way.
Zulaikha sent with her shepherd boy,
Like his faithful dog, her soul, patience, and joy,
And careful guardians about him, all
Charged to watch o'er him lest harm befall.
1 The zodiacal sign Aries.
Thus, while he pleased, passed his days, and still He knew no guide but his own free will. He might feed his flock, if he chose, on the plain; If he would, in the realm of a heart might reign. Yet still in his inmost nature he stood Aloof both from kingship and shepherdhood.1
Love Repelled.
He who gives his heart to a lovely form May look for no rest but a life of storm. If the gold of union be still his quest, With a fond vain dream love deludes his breast. As the passionate blood from his heart distils, He would see the form that his fancy fills. When his tearful eyes have obtained the grace, He longs for a kiss and a close embrace. If round his darling his arm he throws, The thoughts of parting renew his woes. Love may not lead us to perfec^ bliss: Life is not sweeter for love like this. From the secret grief of the soul it springs, And self-earned death is the end it brings. How should his days in sweet calm pass by Who must drink the blood of his heart or die?
When on Yusuf, seen in her vision, as yet No waking eye had Zulaikha set, One wish alone in her heart might dwell, —
1 That is, his nature was unchanged by external circumstances.
cio
T<33*
Yusuf and Zulaikha.
463
To look on the form which she loved so well. When the sight of her darling had blessed her eyes, Her bosom yearned for a sweeter prize, And her loving arms round that form to wind Was the longing thought of her heart and mind, With a kiss on his ruby-red lips impressed, By his arm encircled, to take her rest. When a youth in the spring through a garden goes, His heart marked like a tulip, for love of the rose, First on its petals he looks with delight, And then plucks the fair flower that has charmed his sight.
With winning art would Zulaikha woo; But Yusuf far from her gaze withdrew. Tears of hot blood would Zulaikha shed; But her tears were idle, for Yusuf fled. Zulaikha's soul with deep wounds was scarred: But the heart of Yusuf was cold and hard. Still on his cheek would Zulaikha gaze; But Yusuf never his eye would raise. For a glance from her darling Zulaikha burned; But Yusufs look from her look was turned. His eye he kept lest his heart might err, And no fond glance would he bend on her.
What rest has the lover who pines alone, If his darling's eye may not meet his own? He sheds his tears, and he heaves his sighs, Hoping to gaze on his loved one's eyes. If still those eyes to his love she close, With the blood of his heart he must weep his woes.

a
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464
Jami.
When this heavy load on her bosom lay Zulaikha wasted from day to day. In the chilling autumn of pain and grief The tulip banished the pink rose-leaf. Under the weight of her sorrow she sank, And the stately young cypress tree withered and shrank. Gone was the splendor her lips had shed, And the light that had shone from her cheek was dead. Faint and weary she hardly through Her long sweet tresses her fingers drew. Scarce would she look at her mirror; she Kept her eyes bent down with her head on her knee. No borrowed bloom on her cheek was spread, For the blood that she wept from her heart was red. The world about her was black, and why Should she darken her orbs with the jetty dye ? If under those lids the dark tint had lain, The tears that she shed would have washed them again. When Zulaikha's heart with her wound was torn She rebuked her spirit with queenly scorn : " Shame on thee ! Disgrace on thy name thou hast brought
By love of the slave whom thy gold has bought.
A lady thou on a princely throne,
Wilt thou stoop to make love to a slave of thine own?
The chains of thy love on a monarch fling :
A prince's daughter should love a king.
But of all that is strange 'tis most strange that he
Should shrink from love offered by one like thee.
If the dames of Memphis but knew thy shame,
CtD
Yusuf and Zulaihba.
465
Where were the end of their scorn and blame? "
Thus spoke Zulaikha; but still she felt That he alone in her fond heart dwelt. Him she could not banish, but strove awhile To charm her pain with this simple guile.
When the loved one possesses the lover's soul, Can he tear himself free from her sweet control ? You may rend his heart from his body, yet His faith to his love he will never forget. The words of the love-stricken bard are true : " Musk will keep its scent and the rose its hue. And how may the lover have power to part From the soul of his soul and the heart of his heart? "
The Messenger.
In course of long sorrow Zulaikha knew
That her nurse was faithful and helpful and true.
" Thou hast served me often," 'twas thus she prayed;
" Help me again, for I need thine aid.
To him as my messenger take thy way,
Be thou mine eloquent tongue, and say :
' Delicate plant, ever tended with care,
Lovely with blossom but wayward as fair;
In the garden of beauty no cypress tree
Lifts up its head to compare with thee.
Moulded from spirit and soul was the clay
Wherein was planted thy Sidra-spray.
When the green leaves came on each growing bough,
They said : " The fairest of trees art thou."
Since the bride of Time was a mother, she Was never made glad by a child like thee. The eye of Adam was bright at thy birth, And the bloom of thy cheek made a rose-bed of earth. For none of the children of men is so fair; No Peri has beauty with thine to compare. If thy loveliness shamed not the Peris, why Should they hide in a corner when thou art nigh ? Angels enthroned in the heavenly height Bend their heads to the ground when thy face is in sight.
If, by favor of Heaven, so high is thy place, Have mercy and show thy poor captive grace. They say that Zulaikha is witchingly fair, But ah, she has fallen a prey to thy snare. She has carried from childhood the wound in her breast
Which for many long days has deprived her of rest. In three nightly visions thy face was shown, And no peace in her heart from that time has she known.
Now chained like the waves of the wind-rippled sea, Now roaming ere morn like the zephyr is she. She is worn by her sorrow as thin as a hair, And her longing for thee is her only care. All the gold of her life for thy sake has she spent; Have pity at last: it is sweet to relent. Pure and fresh is the Water of Life on thy lip : What harm if a drop from the fountain she sip ? With full clusters laden, what harm to allow
T
Yusuf and Zulaikba.
4 67
One taste of the fruit that hangs ripe on the bough? On thy ruby lip let her feed her fill, And perhaps the wild storm of her breast will be still. Let her pluck the dates from that palm-tree's height, Or lay down her head where thy foot may light. What wilt thou lose of thy rank, my king, If thine eye one glance on thy servant fling ? In all the pride of her station, she The least of thy handmaids would gladly be.' " He heard the speech. In reply to the dame From his ruby lips opened this answer came : " Skilled in the secrets thou knowest so well, Cheat not my soul with thy ravishing spell. The slave of Zulaikha and bought with her gold, My debt for her kindness can never be told. To this stately mansion she raised my clay, And nurtured my soul and my life each day. If I counted her favors my whole life through, I never could pay her the thanks that are due. On the line of her pleasure my head I lay, And I wait ever ready to serve and obey. But warn her never to hope that I My God's commandment will break and defy. Ne'er let her tempt me in hope to win The soul which I strive to keep pure from sin. I am called his son by the Grand Vizir; He counts me true and my love sincere. Shall I, the young bird whom his care has bred, Bring shame on the house where I long have fed ? God in various natures has sown the seeds
--—-—?——~
468
Jami.
Of divers wishes and thoughts and deeds. The pure in nature will fear disgrace; But base are his actions whose birth is base. Can a dog be born of a woman ? Where Does barley wheat or wheat barley bear? In my bosom the secrets of Jacob dwell, And my heart keeps the wisdom of Gabriel. Am I worthy of prophethood ? Well I know To holy Isaac that hope I owe. A rose am I and a secret I hold; In Abraham's garden my petals unfold. May sin never drive me — forbid it, God ! — Aside from the path which my fathers trod. Bid Zulaikha spurn the wild thought, and free Her own kind heart from the sin, and me. My trust in the God whom I serve is sure To keep my life undefiled and pure."
Excuses.
The answer was brought to Zulaikha; despair Made her senses as wild as her own wild hair. From her eye's black almond there came a flood Of thick tears mixed with her own heart's blood. She reared up her stately cypress, and flew Till its shade o'er the head of her darling she threw. " My head," she cried, " at thy feet shall be, But ne'er shall my breast from thy love be free. My love of thee throbs in each hair of my head : Self-thought and self-feeling are vanished and dead.
S3X-3S1 -OS*	SESSrfgSSi
Yusuf and Zulaikba.	469
That vision of thee is my soul, and the snare Of thy love is the collar which slave-like I wear. Have I a soul? 'Tis but longing for thee; A body? Its spirit is hasting to flee. But how of the state of my heart shall I speak? 'Tis one drop of the torrent that pours down my cheek. In the whelming sea of thy love I drown : Its waters rush o'er me and weigh me down. When the leech with his lancet would ease my pain, Love of thee, and not blood, gushes forth from the vein."
Then Yusuf wept at her words. " Ah, why Those tears?" said Zulaikha, and heaved a sigh. " Thou art mine own very eye, and while Tears of sorrow are dewing it how can I smile ? For each big drop from thine eye that flows, A flame of fire in my bosom glows. A miracle this of thy beauty, that turns Water itself into flame that burns."
He saw her anguish, he heard her sighs, And the tears flowed down from his lips and eyes : " My heart is broken," he said, "when I see How woe ever waits upon love of me. My aunt's foolish love was my earliest grief, For it made me appear to the world as a thief. Loved by my father I still was unblest, For envy grew fast in each brother's breast. From his sight they banished his favored child, And to Egypt's land have I come exiled. And now must the heart in my bosom bleed
W
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470
Jami.
At the thought of the woe which thy love may breed.
The Lord of lovers is jealous : He
Will brook in His kingship no rivalry.
He will have no partner to share His throne,
But from first to last He will reign alone.
Scarce may a cypress its proud top show
Ere like a long shadow He lays it low.
Scarce can the moon her full light display
Ere scathed by His anger it fades away.
Soon as the sun in the zenith shines
The golden light to the west declines."
Zulaikha answered : " My lamp and eye, I need no moonlight when thou art nigh. If I may not be dear in thy sight, to be The least of thy slaves were enough for me. But canst thou not treat her in gentler mood, And free her from sorrows of servitude ? No outward sign will thy handmaid show, But her heart will long and her bosom glow. Why dost thou deem me a foe? Thou art Dearer to me than mine own dear heart. And where is the fool who would add a care To double the load which his heart must bear? What dost thou fear from my hate ? My heart By the sword of thy love has been cleft apart. Ah, kiss me; the touch of thy lips will restore The rest of my soul that I sorrow no more." " Nay, my sweet mistress," thus Yusuf replied : " In duty's bonds I am chained and tied. From the path of service I may not stray :

Yusuf and Zulaikha.
471
There thou commandest and I obey.
More than such duty forbear to claim;
Make not thy love my dishonor and shame.
Assign me some labor that far from thy side
My days still for thee may be occupied.
Against thy light orders I will not rebel,
But remember thy bounties and serve thee well.
By faithful service a slave like me
Made glad by kindness at length is free.
True service rejoices a master; but still
A slave he continues who serves him ill."
"Rare jewel," she answered, "compared with thee
The meanest slave's rank were too high for me.
For each slight task, when my voice is heard,
A hundred servants obey my word.
Their ready service can I refuse,
And thee for the task or the message choose ?
The eye is counted of higher worth
Than the foot which is fashioned to tread the earth.
Thorns in the path of thy foot may lie,
But lay not upon them thy precious eye."
Again said Yusuf: " Dear lady, round Whose heart the bands of my love are bound, If thy love like the light of the morn be true, Only my will must thou seek to do. My wish is only to serve thee; thou — Or thou art no friend — must the wish allow. To please the heart that he loves, a friend Regards as his being's true aim and end. 'Neath the foot of friendship his will he sets,And self in the love of his friend forgets."
He spake in the hope that a task might bar All converse with her and keep him afar. He knew that her presence was trouble and fear: In distance was safety, and woe to be near. In fire and tempest the wool that flies When it may not contend with the flame is wise.
Fresh Counsel.
Deep in despair was Zulaikha, slain
With the love of the boy whom she wooed in vain.
One night she summoned her nurse to her side,
Where gently she bade her be seated, and cried :
" Strength of this frame when my limbs are weak,
Lamp of my soul when thy light I seek,
Thy nursling owes thee each breath that she draws ;
If she lives, the sweet milk of thy love is the cause.
Love more than a mother's, too deep to be told,
Has raised me up to the rank I hold.
How long must I pine with my fond bosom scarred,
How long from that soul of the world be debarred?
Wilt thou not aid me, and tenderly guide
My feet to the harbor that still is denied ?
What profits it me that my palace walls hold
My friend and myself, if that friend is so cold ?
The lover, whose darling refuses to hear,
Is far from his love, though he seem to be near.
If spirit from spirit be still far away,
What fruit has the meeting of water and clay? "Yusuf and Zulaikba.	473
" Sweet child of the Peris," the nurse replied,
"Though what were a Peri if set by thy side?
God gave thee thy beauty to steal from the wise
Their heart and their face with thy ravishing eyes.
If a painter of china thy form portrayed,
And hung in a temple the picture he made,
The very idols to life would spring,
And their souls be the slaves of so fair a thing.
On the mountain height if thy cheek were shown,
Love would throb and thrill in the hard flint stone.
When to the garden thy steps are led,
Each dry tree raises his amorous head.
Each fawn on the plains when thy form she spies,
Would sweep thee a path with the fringe of her eyes.
When the charm of thy lip dropping sugar is heard,
From river and sky come the fish and the bird.
Why art thou sad, when such beauty is thine ?
Why yield to thy sorrow, and bitterly pine ?
Shoot out from that eye but one arrow, and thou
Wilt conquer the boy with the bow of thy brow.
Coil but a lock of those tresses, his feet
Will be caught in that beautiful snare when you meet."
" How can I tell the cruel scorn,"
Zulaikha said, " that I long have borne ?
Can I show my beauty to one whose eye
Is bent on the ground when my step is nigh ?
Were I the moon, he would turn away:
The sun, he would shrink from his golden ray.
If, his own eye's apple, I lent him light,
Scarce would he welcome the boon of sight.s .....................
474
Jami.
Ah ! if a glance on mine eye he would throw,
The pangs that I suffer perchance he might know.
Those griefs would find place in his heart; but he
Would never languish for love like me.
'Tis not only his beauty that kills me; no,
'Tis the cold, cold heart, where no spark will glow.
Ah ! if but a pang for my sake he had felt,
Thus with my lover I never had dealt."
" Thou whose beauty casts on the sun a shade " —
The nurse to her lady this answer made —
" I have wrought a plan, and I trust that rest
Will at length be thine from the thought in my breast.
Bring forth thy treasure stored up of old,
Lade a camel with silver, a mule with gold.
I will build a palace like Iram fair,
And a skilful painter shall labor there
To paint on the walls with seductive charms,
Zulaikha folded in Yusufs arms.
If, for a moment, he visit the place,
He will see thee locked in his own embrace.
Then will he yearn for thy touch, and at length
The love of thy beauty will grow to its strength.
Soon will he yield with his senses on fire,
And naught will be left for thy heart to desire."
She heard the counsel: her heart was bold : She brought forth the stores of her silver and gold; And her wealth, fond fancies therewith to build, She gave to the nurse to be spent as she willed.

Yusuf and Zulaikba.
The Palace.
475
They who raised the dome of this story say
That the nurse, whom the plan of her brain made gay,
Called in a wise master, his aid to lend,
With a hundred arts at each finger's end;
A skilled geometer, trained and tried,
Through the maze of the stars a most trusty guide.
He had learned his figures from Almagest,1
And his problems were troubles to Euclid's rest.
If he found no compasses ready at hand,
Two fingers drew deftly the circle he planned,
And the lines that he wanted most straight and true
Without the help of a rule he drew.
He had mounted up to the seventh sphere,
And built in Saturn a belvedere.
If his hand but turned to the mason's saw,
The stone grew soft as the clay for awe.
When to architecture he turned his thought,
Wondrous and fair were the works he wrought.
The endless plain of the world on the space
Of his finger-nail he could truly trace,
And with heightened charm in the sketch he drew
The shape of a fairer creation grew.
There was life and soul in the drawing when
The lines were sketched by his artist pen.
If his fingers had graven a bird of stone,
It had risen up in the air and flown.
1 Ptolemy's Syntaxis Magna, translated into Arabic under the title Al Megiste, about 800 A.D.
By the nurse's order his hand of gold Began the work on the plan she told. There was hope in the sheen of the polished walls, And the dawn of bliss gleamed through the stately-halls.
The brightest marble adorned the floor, And ivory shone on each ebony door. Within the palace were chambers seven, In number and sheen like the stories of heaven, Pure and polished and fair to view, Each wrought of stone of a different hue ; The seventh, fair as the seventh sphere — All words, all painting would fail me here — Forty gold pillars upheld, inlaid With jewels, and beasts and birds portrayed. Against each column a musk-deer leant; And stored in the gold was the precious scent; And peacocks wrought in pure gold displayed Their jewelled plumes in the long colonnade. But a special marvel, eclipsing them, Was a shady tree with a silver stem. Never a man might its like behold, With leaves of turkois and boughs of gold. On each branch was a bird, a wonder of skill, With emerald wings and a ruby bill.
The painter there, to his orders true, The forms of Zulaikha and Yusuf drew, Like lovers both of one heart and mind, With the arm of each round the other twined. Like heaven was the ceiling, for wrought thereonYusnf and Zulaikba.
477
The sun and the moon in their glory shone. In the prime of Spring on the walls outspread To the wondering view was a bright rose-bed, And the eye might mark in each narrow space The rose-sprays twined in a close embrace. Wherever the foot on the carpet stepped Two lovely roses together slept. Search through the palace, no spot was there But showed a type of that beauteous pair. Under the foot, overhead, and around, An emblem of two happy lovers was found. The love of Zulaikha still grew meanwhile, And rose each day with the rising pile. As the idol-house met her eager gaze, With fiercer fire was her heart ablaze. There thrills a new pang through the lover's breast When he looks on the picture of her he loves best, The fair lines of her features his woes recall, And he sinks in his sorrow love's helpless thrall.
In the Palace.
Zulaikha opened her hand and decked The finished work of the Architect. Tissue of gold on the floor was strown, And its beauty enhanced with a golden throne. Jewelled lamps on the walls were hung, And odorous herbs were beneath them flung. She gathered together all things most fair, And unrolled the carpet of pleasure there.

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Jami.
But amid the charms of the sumptuous hall She longed only for Yusuf, far dearer than all. A heavenly palace is dark and dim To a lover whose darling is far from him.
She would summon Yusuf, once more they would meet:
She would set him high on a princely seat, She would woo his beauty and win success With her tender guile and her soft caress, Or feed on his lips and beguile her care With the tangled locks of the rebel's hair. But to conquer his heart she would add a grace To her peerless form and her perfect face. Her beauty needed no art, and yet A current stamp by its aid was set. The rose of the garden is fair to view, But lovelier still with her pearls of dew.
She freshened the tint of her roses and spread A livelier hue where a bud was dead. She darkened the line of her eyebrows, so To curve the new moon to a full rainbow. Her hair, like the musk of China, which fell In long black tresses she braided well, And the pink of her delicate neck between The coils that hung over her shoulders was seen. She prepared the spell of her witching eye, And darkened the lid with the jetty dye. She set here and there a dark spot on her cheek, And these were the words that her looks would speak t " Thy face is so fair, love, that I at the view

CfflD
II"
Yusuf and Zulaikha.
479
Consume, heart and soul, like the seeds of the rue." 1
Her fingers deftly with henna she stained,
That his heart thereby might be caught and detained;
But a painter colored her palm with care,
For with this a picture she hoped to snare.
The jujube's tint, on her filberts spread,
Spoke of tears of blood that her eyes had shed.
The fair new moon2 of each delicate nail,
Came full into sight from the shrouding veil,
That the new moon3 of bliss might at length appear
And announce that the feast of her joy was near.
Beside her cheek was an earring set,
And a moon and a star in conjunction met.
Ah, might that meeting herself unite
With the moon of the Faith, the wide world's delight!
Across her bosom, like sweet flowers grown
To perfect beauty, a scarf was thrown.
Then she drew on a delicate smock and her skin
Filled with roses the folds of the jessamine,
Which looked to the eye like a stream that flows
Over a garden of tulip and rose,
A wondrous stream, of fine silver made,
Where two fishes4 at rest on two arms were laid.
On each wrist a fair bracelet shone to enfold
Each glittering fish with a collar of gold.
So by her cheek and her hand was it shown
1	The seeds are black and are burnt as charms.
2	The white of the nail.
8 The appearance of the new moon at the end of Ramazan, the Mussulman Lent, is eagerly looked for, as the long fast then ends. * Her long shapely hands.


480
Jami.
That her charms from the moon to the Fish1 were known.
Next the lady her form arrayed
In precious tissue of China brocade.
She shone so bright in that robe, Chinese
To her as an idol had bent their knees.
On her jet-black garner of hair was set,
Of pearl and gold mingled, a coronet.
No peacock, proud of his jewelled plumes,
Could move more bright through the splendid rooms.
She reckoned on conquest, for who could withstand
The charms seen in the mirror she held in her hand ?
Those charms she assayed, and the mirror told
That the beauty she trusted was current gold.
As she thought of her treasures her joy rose high,
And nothing was wanting save one to buy.
She sent her maidens and bade them call Yusuf to visit her new-built hall. He came, bright, noble, and mild, like the sun And the moon and Mercury joined in one. No mixture of clay made his nature base, And light, all light, were his brow and face. One glance from that eye, and the world is aglow: He speaks, and all nations his utterance know.
Zulaikha saw, and the flames rose high, Like the spark that falls where the reeds are dry. " Purest of creatures, thou lamp to guide The eyes of those who see best," she cried.
1 Her cheek is the moon above the earth, and her hand the Fish on which the earth rests.
Yusuf and Zulaikba.	481
" O servant faithful and prompt to obey, High favor and grace should thy care repay. Thy dutiful love I can never forget, And my glory and pride is my collar of debt, Come, and to-day will I labor to show Some slight return for the debt I owe : Nay, long in the record of time shall live The meed I bestow and the thanks I give."
With gentle charm and resistless sway To the first of the chambers she led the way.
Soon as the door of pure gold he passed, With the lock of iron she closed it fast. The door she closed, but the secret nursed Deep in her heart from her lips outburst. Thus she addressed him : " O thou, the whole Wish and desire of my hungry soul, Thy vision appeared in my dreams and beguiled The sleep from mine eyes when I yet was a child. That vision brought frenzy and anguish to dwell Forever with me : I loved thee so well. Ere yet I had seen thee, to find thee here I came from my country and all that was dear. A helpless exile I sat and grieved, And no sweet comfort my woes relieved. After long pain I was blest to behold Thy face; but hope fled, for thine eye was cold. Look on me no longer with eyes so stern: Oh, one word of love, one word, in return !"
He bent his head as he answered : " Thou To whose bidding a hundred high princes bow,i


Jami.
Release me from this sore burden of woe, And freedom of heart on thy slave bestow. Dear lady, longer I would not be In this curtained chamber alone with thee, For thou art a flame, and the wool is dry : The wind art thou and the musk am I. Is the wool secure when the flame burns fast? Should the musk be left to the boisterous blast?" His eager words to the winds she threw : To the second chamber the boy she drew. Again she fastened the door: again The heart of Yusuf was rent with pain. She lifted the veil of the days gone by And poured out her grief with a bitter cry : " How long wilt thou scom me, Oh ! thou more sweet Than my soul, and rebel when I fall at thy feet? I lavished my treasure to buy thee, I gave My faith and my prudence to make thee my slave. For I hoped in my heart that, pledged to obey, Thou wouldst be my comfort and joy and stay. But no order I give thee wilt thou fulfil, And thou seekest each path save the path of my will." "Sin is not obedience," he answered; "shame Ne'er may be linked with true duty's name. Each act defying the Master's law Is in true service a breach and flaw: And never mine be the power or will To break His law by a deed so ill." Onward from chamber to chamber they strayed, And in each for a little their steps delayed.

cfo
Yusuf and Zulaikha.
New arts of temptation in each she plied,
In each new magic and charms were tried.
Through six of the rooms she had led him, still
She won not the game1 though she played with skill.
Only the seventh was left: therein
Lay her strongest hope that at last she might win.
In this way was nothing of dark despair,
For black to her eyes seemed white and fair.
If no hope from a hundred doors appears,
Eat not thy heart nor give way to tears.
For yet one door thou mayst open and see
A way to the place where thou fain wouldst be.
Flight.
These are the words of the bard who sings This ancient story of mystic things. To the seventh chamber their steps they bent, And Zulaikha cried in her discontent: " Pass not this chamber unnoticed by, And lay thy foot on this loving eye."
He entered and sat where she bade him : again She fastened the door with a golden chain. No spy, no stranger might there intrude To break the charm of the solitude. 'Twas made for the loved and the lover alone, And the dread of the censor was there unknown.
1 An allusion to the game of draughts, the Persian board containing six squares, and the game being called " shashdar," i.e., " six-doored."

The loved one's beauty was there more bright, And the lover's heart sang a song of delight. No more was the bosom's soft flame concealed, And the spirit of love had a limitless field.
Full, eyes and heart, of the flame she fanned, She seized in wild passion her darling's hand, And with gentle magic of words most sweet, Half led and half drew his slow steps to a seat. She threw herself there by his side. Then broke A flood of hot tears from her eyes, and she spoke: " Look on me, look on me once, my sweet: One tender glance from those eyes, I entreat. Then if the sun saw my glad face, he Moon-like might borrow new light from me. How long wilt thou see my poor heart's distress? How long will thy heart be so pitiless? "
She told her love, and her sorrow woke With a pang renewed at each word she spoke. But Yusuf looked not upon her : in dread He lowered his eyes and bent his head. As he looked on the ground in a whirl of thought He saw his own form on the carpet wrought, Where a bed was figured of silk and brocade, And himself by the side of Zulaikha laid. From the pictured carpet he looked in quest Of a spot where his eye might, untroubled, rest. He looked on the wall, on the door; the pair Of rose-lipped lovers was painted there. He lifted his glance to the Lord of the skies: That pair from the ceiling still met his eyes.
Yusuf and Zulaikha.
485
Then the heart of Yusuf would fain relent, And a tender look on Zulaikha he bent, While a thrill of hope through her bosom passed That the blessed sun would shine forth at last. The hot tears welled from her heart to her eyes, And she poured out her voice in a storm of sighs : " List to my prayer, thou sweet rebel, and calm The pangs of my heart with thy healing balm. Thou art Life's Water : these lips are dry; Thou art life forever : I faint and die. As thirsty eyes when no water they see, As the dead without hope, so am I without thee. For many years has my heart in its love for thee bled. And, fasting, outworn, I have tossed on my bed. Oh, let me no longer in misery weep : Give my body its food, give mine eyelids their sleep, Oh, hear my entreaties : on thee I call In the name of God who is Lord over all; By the excellent bloom of that cheek which He gave, By that beauty which makes the whole world thy slave;
By the splendor that beams from thy beautiful brow That bids the full moon to thy majesty bow; By the graceful gait of that cypress, by The delicate bow that is bent o'er thine eye ; By that arch of the temple devoted to prayer, By each fine-woven mesh of the toils of thy hair; By that charming narcissus, that form arrayed In the sheen and glory of silk brocade ; By that secret thou callest a mouth, by the hair

486
Jami.
Thou callest the waist of that body most fair;
By the musky spots on thy cheek's pure rose,
By the smile of thy lips when those buds unclose ;
By my longing tears, by the sigh and groan
That rend my heart as I pine alone;
By thine absence, a mountain too heavy to bear,
By my thousand fetters of grief and care;
By the sovereign sway of my passion, by
My carelessness whether I live or die;
Pity me, pity my love-lorn grief:
Loosen my fetters and grant relief:
An age has scorched me since over my soul
The soft sweet air of thy garden stole.
Be the balms of my wounds for a little; shed
Sweet scent on the heart where the flowers are dead
I hunger for thee till my whole frame is weak:
Oh, give me the food for my soul which I seek."
" Fair daughter," said he, "of the Peri race —
But no Peri can match thee in form or face —
Tempt me no more to a deed of shame,
Nor break the fair glass of a stainless name.
Drag not my skirts through the dust and mire,
Nor fill my veins with unholy fire.
By the Living God, the great Soul of all,
Inner and outward and great and small,
From whose ocean this world like a bubble rose,
And the sun by the flash of His splendor glows;
By the holy line of my fathers, whence
I have learned the fair beauty of innocence;
From whom I inherit my spirit's light,
Yusuf and Zulaikha
And through them is the star of my fortune bright;
If thou wilt but leave me this day in peace,
And my troubled soul from this snare release,
Thou shalt see thy servant each wish obey,
And with faith unshaken thy grace repay.
The lips of thy darling to thine shall be pressed,
And the arms that thou lovest shall lull thee to rest.
Haste not too fast to the goal: delay
Is often more blessed than speed on the way,
And the first paltry capture is ever surpassed
By the nobler game that is netted at last."
Zulaikha answered : " Ah, never think That the thirsty will wait for the morrow to drink. My spirit has rushed to my lips, and how Can I wait for the joy that I long for now? My heart has no power to watch and wait For the tender bliss that will come so late. Thy pleading is weak, and no cause I see Why thou shouldst not this moment be happy with me
Then Yusuf answered : " Two things I fear — The judgment of God, and the Grand Vizir. If the master knew of the shameful deed, With a hundred sorrows my heart would bleed. Full well thou knowest my furious lord Would strike me dead with his lifted sword. And think of the shame that the sin would lay On my guilty soul at the Judgment Day, When the awful book is unclosed wherein Recording angels have scored my sin." "Fear not thy master," Zulaikha cried;X' f 8

488
Jami.
" At some high feast when I sit by his side, A poisoned cup from this hand shall he take, And sleep till Doomsday shall bid him wake. And the God thou servest, I hear thee say, Pardons His creatures who err and stray. Still, their sole mistress, the keys I hold Of a hundred vaults full of gems and gold. All this will I give to atone for thy sin, And thy God's forgiveness will surely win."
" Ne'er can my heart," he made answer, " incline To injure another by deed of mine ; Least of all my lord, who with tender thought Bade thee cherish and honor the slave he bought. And will my God, whom no thanks can pay, Take a bribe to pardon my sin to-day? Shall the grace which a life cannot buy be sold By the Living God for thy gems and gold? "
" O King," she said, " to high fortune born, May throne and crown be thine to adorn ! My soul is the mark of the arrows of pain, And excuse on excuse thou hast marshalled in vain. Crooked, contemptible, all unmeet For a noble heart is the way of deceit. God grant that my heart from deceit may be free, And let me not hear these pretences from thee. I am sorely troubled : oh, give me rest; Grant, willing, unwilling, this one request. In words, idle words, have my days passed by, And ne'er with my wishes wouldst thou comply. A truce to pretences, or thou wilt repent
Yusuf and Zulaihba.
489
That thine eye would not glow nor thy heart relent.
A fierce flame has lighted the reeds of my heart;
Thou canst look on the flame and stand heedless apart.
What boots it to burn in this flame of desire,
If thine eyes be undimmed by the smoke of the fire ?
Come, pour a cool stream on the hot flame, if I
Fail to melt thy cold heart with the heat of a sigh,"
For new excuses his lips unclosed,
But with swift impatience she interposed :
" My time thou hast stolen while fondly I hung
On the guiling words of thy Hebrew tongue.
No more evasion : my wish deny,
And by mine own hand will I surely die.
Unless thy warm arm round my neck I feel,
I will sever that neck with the biting steel.
If fondly around me thou wilt not cling,
A streak of my blood shall thy neck enring.
A lily-like dagger shall rend my side,
And my smock in blood like a rose shall be dyed.
Then shall my soul and my body part,
And thy guile no longer distress my heart.
My lifeless corse the Vizir will see,
And the crime of the murder will rest on thee.
Then under the earth, when the doom is passed,
Near this loving heart thou wilt lie at last."
She drew from the pillow, distraught with grief,
A dagger gray as a willow leaf.
And, fierce with the fire of fever, laid
To her thirsty throat the bright cold blade.
Up sprang Yusuf; his fingers' hold
3
490
Jami.
Circled her wrist like a bracelet of gold. " Master this passion, Zulaikha," he cried; " Turn from thy folly, oh, turn aside. Wilt thou not strive for the wished-for goal? Wilt thou abandon the aim of my soul?" She fancied his heart was relenting; she thought His love would give her the bliss she sought. The gleaming steel on the ground she threw, And hope sprang up in her breast anew. She sugared his lip with a touch of her own : One arm was his collar and one his zone.
With a long sweet kiss on his lips she hung, And an eager arm round his neck was flung.
One nook of the chamber was dark with the shade Of a curtain that glittered with gold brocade. And Yusuf questioned her : " What or who Is behind the curtain concealed from view? " " It is he," she answered, " to whom, while I live, My faithful service I still must give : A golden idol with jewelled eyes — A salver of musk in his bosom lies. I bend before him each hour of the day, And my head at his feet in due worship lay. Before his presence this screen I drew To be out of the reach of his darkened view. If I swerve from religion I would not be Where the angry eyes of my god may see." And Yusuf cried with a bitter cry : " Not a mite of the gold of thy faith have I. Thine eye is abashed before those that are dead,


Cfo		
Yusuf and Zulaikha.	491	1
And shrinks from the sight of the lifeless in dread. And God almighty shall I not fear, Who liveth and seeth and ever is near?"
He ceased : from the fond dream of rapture he woke; From the arms of Zulaikha he struggled and broke. With hasty feet from her side he sped, And burst open each door on his way as he fled. Bolt and bar from the stanchions he drew — All open before him as onward he flew. Of his lifted finger a key was made, Which every lock at a sign obeyed. But Zulaikha caught him, with steps more fast, Or ever the farthest chamber he passed. She clutched his skirt as he fled amain, And the coat from his shoulder was rent in twain. Reft of his garment he slipped from her hand Like a bud from its sheath when the leaves expand. She rent her robe in her anguish ; low On the earth, like a shadow, she lay in her woe. A bitter cry from her heart she sent, And uttered these words in her wild lament: " Ah, woe is me for my luckless fate ! He has left my heart empty and desolate. Ah, that the game from my net should slip ! Ah, that the honey should mock my lip ! A spider once, I have heard them say, Went forth in its hunger to hunt for prey. On a bough a falcon had taken her stand, Who had fled from her rest on a royal hand. The spider would weave round her wings a snare492
Jami.
To hinder her flight through the fields of air.
It labored long on this toil intent
Till all the fine threads of its store were spent.
At length the falcon her pinions spread,
And the spider had naught but the broken thread.
I am that spider: I weep and moan,
The single hope of my heart o'erthrown.
The vein of my heart is the broken thread,
And the bird whom I hoped to ensnare is fled.
Each tie to my life is now broken in twain,
And the severed ends in my hand remain."
The False Charge.
The pen that has written this tale relates, That when Yusuf fled through the palace gates, Soon as his foot in the court was set, The Grand Vizir and his lords he met. The master looked on his troubled face And questioned him wherefore he fled apace. Yusuf was ready with apt reply, And with courteous words put the question by. The Grand Vizir took his hand in his own, And they came where Zulaikha sat brooding alone, She saw them together, and cried, dismayed, To her own sad spirit, " Betrayed ! betrayed ! " Moved by the fancy, in loud lament, The veil of the secret she raised and rent: " O Balance of Justice, what sentence is due To him who to folly thy wife would woo?
And, false to his duty, has plotted within
The folds of his treason a deed of sin ? "
" Speak, fairest one, speak : let thy tale be clear.
Who has thus dared?" said the Grand Vizir.
"The Hebrew servant," she cried, " has done
This thing, whom thy favor hast made a son.
Freed from the trouble and toil of the day,
Here in my chamber asleep I lay,
He came to the bed where alone I repose,
And would pluck the flower of the spotless rose;
But the hand of the robber my slumber broke,
With a start and a cry from my rest I woke.
He started in fear when I raised my head,
And swift to the door of the chamber fled.
He fled amain, but I followed fast
And caught him ere yet from the palace he passed.
I caught his garment, my strength outspent,
And it split as the leaf of a rose is rent.
The garment he wears on his shoulders view,
And see that the words which I speak are true.
Now were it best for a little time
To send him to prison to mourn his crime;
Or let the sharp lash on his tender skin
Cure the wild boy of his wish to sin.
Let the scourge be heavy, the pain severe,
That others in time may be warned and fear."
The Grand Vizir in amazement heard :
His visage changed and his heart was stirred,
From the path of justice he turned aside,
And his tongue was a sword of rebuke as he cried :
" Treasures of pearl and of gold I gave,
When I weighed out my jewels to purchase my slave.
I made thee my son of mine own free grace,
And gave thee beside me an honored place.
I gave thee Zukaikha for guardian to tend
Thy youth with her maidens and be thy friend.
The slaves of my household obeyed thy will;
They were gentle in speech and ne'er wished thee ill.
I made thee lord over all that I had,
And never would suffer thy heart to be sad.
A folly and sin was this thought of thine :
May God forgive thee the base design.
In this evil world, full of grief and woe,
Kindness responsive to kindness we owe.
But thou, all my love and my trust betrayed,
My tender affection with ill hast repaid.
Thou hast broken the bond which the meal had tied,
And the pledge which the salt had sanctified."
At the wrathful words of the Grand Vizir He shrank like a hair when the flame is near. He cried to his master : " How long, how long Wilt thou burden the guiltless with cruel wrong? False is the tale that Zulaikha has told : Her lie is a lamp when the flame is cold. From the man's left side came the woman. Who Will hope that the left will be right and true? From the day Zulaikha beheld me first, A frantic passion her heart has nursed. About me ever she comes and goes, And with soft allurement her fancy shows.

Yusuf and Zulaikha.
But ne'er have I lifted mine eye to her face, Ne'er have I looked for a kiss or embrace. Who am I, thy servant, that I should be The tempter of her who is sacred to thee ? From earthly wealth I had turned away, To the pangs of exile my heart was a prey. A word from Zulaikha bade doors unclose, And opened a way to a hundred woes. She called me hither — her spells were sweet — And drew me aside to this lone retreat. With passionate pleading her love she pressed, And made my bosom a stranger to rest. By many a bar for a while detained, The gate of the palace at length I gained. She followed fast as I fled, and tore Behind from the shoulder the coat I wore. This is the story I have to tell: This, only this and no more, befell. If thou wilt not believe I am free from guilt, In the name of Allah do what thou wilt."
Zulaikha heard, and in self-defence Called Heaven to witness her innocence. She swore an oath on each sacred thing, By the throne, and the crown, and the head of the king, By the rank and state of the Grand Vizir Whom the monarch honored and held so dear.
When trouble and doubt in a suit arise, An oath the place of a witness supplies. But ah, how oft, when the truth is known, Has the shameless lie of that oath been shown !
Then she cried, as her tears in a torrent ran: " From Yusuf only the folly began." Tears, ever ready to flow, supply Oil for the lamp of a woman's lie. Fed with this oil the flame waxes in power And destroys a whole world in one little hour.
The oath of Zulaikha, the sob, the tear, Shut the blinded eye of the Grand Vizir. He gave a sergeant his order, like The strings of a lute the boy's heart to strike, That the vein of his soul might be racked with pain, And no trace of compassion or mercy remain; That the boy should be lodged in the prison till They had thoroughly fathomed the secret ill.
The Infant Witness,
His hand on Yusuf the sergeant laid, And straight to the prison his way he made. The heart of the captive with woe was rent, And the eye of complaint on the sky he bent: " Thou who knowest all hearts," he cried, " And every secret which men would hide ; Who discernest the true from the false, whose might Save Thine only can bring this secret to light? Since the lamp of truth in thy heart Thou hast placed, Let me not with the charge of a lie be disgraced. Bear witness against mine accuser, I pray, That my truth may be clear as the light of day." He spoke in his sorrow; and straight to its aim
Yusuf and Zulaikha.
497
The shaft of his prayer from his spirit came. In the court was a dame, to Zulaikha allied, Who was night and day by Zulaikha's side. With her babe on her bosom but three months old She seemed her own soul in her arms to hold. No line in the volume of life had it read, And its tongue like a lily's no word had said. But it cried : " Vizir, be thy judgment more slow, And beware of the haste that will end in woe. No stain of sin upon Yusuf lies, But he merits the grace of thy favoring eyes."
In courteous words spake the Grand Vizir In reply to the speech which he marvelled to hear: " O thou whom God teaches to speak while yet With the milk of thy mother thy lips are wet, Speak clearly and say who lighted the flame That has threatened the screen of my honor and fame." " No informer am I," said the babe, " to reveal The secret another would fain conceal. The tell-tale musk is so black in its hue, For no folds will imprison the scent that steals through; And the screen of the petals that round her cling, Gives a charm to the smile of the rose in Spring. No secret I utter, no tale I tell, But I give thee a hint which will serve thee well. Go hence to Yusuf; examine and note, As he lies in the prison, the rent in his coat. If the rent in the front of the garment appear, The skirt of Zulaikha from soil is clear. There is then no light in the charge he brings,
Jami.
And the stain of a lie to his story clings. But if rent be the back of the garment, he From charge of falsehood and slander is free. Then faithless Zulaikha has turned aside From the path of truth and has basely lied."
The Grand Vizir to the prison went, And summoned Yusuf, to view the rent. He saw that the garment was torn behind; And he cried to that woman of evil mind: " Thou hast forged a lie, and thine art has sent The innocent boy to imprisonment. What hast thou gained by thy crafty toils Since the shame of thy deed on thyself recoils ? Thou hast left the straight path and hast sullied thy name,
By wooing thy slave to a deed of shame, From the path of honor thy feet have strayed, And on him the guilt of thy sin thou hast laid. The arts and wiles of a woman rend The heart of a man, and they never will end. Those who are noble they bring to naught, And the wisest hearts in their toils are caught. O that men from the plague of their arts were free ! O that treacherous woman might cease to be ! Begone : on thy knees in repentance fall, And pray for forgiveness, thy face to the wall. Let the tears of contrition thy penitence grace, And the blot from thy volume of life efface. And, Yusuf, set on thy lips a seal: This tale of dishonor to none reveal.
cfc fYusuf and Zulaikha,
The Women of Memphis.
Love is ill suited with peace and rest:
Scorn and reproaches become him best.
Rebuke gives strength to his tongue, and blame
Wakes the dull spark to a brighter flame.
Blame is the censor of Love's bazaar :
It suffers no rust the pure splendor to mar.
Blame is the whip whose impending blow
Speeds the willing lover and wakes the slow;
And the weary steed who can hardly crawl
Is swift of foot when reproaches fall.
When the rose of the secret had opened and blown,
The voice of reproach was a bulbul in tone.1
The women of Memphis, who heard the tale first,
The whispered slander received and nursed.
1 An allusion to the bulbul's love of the rose, whose beauty he sings.
Enough that thy speech—for thy words were wise — Has shown thee guiltless and opened mine eyes." He spoke; then he turned from the prison : and food
For tale and jest was his clement mood.
Ah yes; it is good to forgive and forget;
But bounds e'en to mercy itself should be set.
If the man be too mild when the woman sins,
There ends good-nature, and folly begins.
Too patient a part, should thy wife offend,
Makes a rift in thine honor which naught can mend.Then, attacking Zulaikha for right and wrong,
Their uttered reproaches were loud and long :
" Heedless of honor and name she gave
The love of her heart to the Hebrew slave,
Who lies so deep in her soul enshrined
That to sense and religion her eyes are blind.
She loves her servant. 'Tis strange to think
That erring folly so low can sink;
But stranger still that the slave she wooes
Should scorn her suit and her love refuse.
His cold eye to hers he never will raise;
He never will walk in the path where she strays.
He stops if before him her form he sees;
If she lingers a moment he turns and flees.
When her lifted veil leaves her cheek exposed,
With the stud of his eyelash his eye is closed.
If she weeps in her sorrow he laughs at her pain,
And closes each door that she opens in vain.
It may be that her form is not fair in his eyes,
And his cold heart refuses the proffered prize.
If once her beloved one sat with us
He would sit with us ever, not treat us thus.
Our sweet society never would he leave,
But joy unending would give and receive.
But not all have this gift in their hands : to enthrall
The heart they would win is not given to all.
There is many a woman, fair, good, and kind,
To whom never the heart of a man inclined ;
And many a Laili with soft black eye,
The tears of whose heart-blood are never dry."Yusuf and Zulaikha.
Zulaikha heard, and resentment woke To punish the dames for the words they spoke. She summoned them all from the city to share A sumptuous feast which she bade prepare. A delicate banquet meet for kings Was spread with the choicest of dainty things. Cups filled with sherbet of every hue Shone as rifts in a cloud when the sun gleams through. There were goblets of purest crystal filled With wine and sweet odors with art distilled. The golden cloth blazed like the sunlight; a whole Cluster of stars was each silver bowl. From goblet and charger rare odors came; There was strength for the spirit and food for the frame. All daintiest fare that your lip would taste, From fish to fowl, on the cloth was placed. It seemed that the fairest their teeth had lent For almonds, their lips for the sugar sent. A mimic palace rose fair to view Of a thousand sweets of each varied hue, Where instead of a carpet the floor was made With bricks of candy and marmalade. Fruit in profusion, of sorts most rare, Piled in baskets, bloomed fresh and fair. Those who looked on their soft transparency felt That the delicate pulp would dissolve and melt. Bands of boys and young maidens, fine As mincing peacocks, were ranged in line ; And the fair dames of Memphis, like Peris eyed, In a ring on their couches sat side by side.
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They tasted of all that they fancied, and each AVas courteous in manner and gentle in speech.
The feast was ended ; the cloth was raised, And Zulaikha sweetly each lady praised. Then she set, as she planned in her wily breast, A knife and an orange beside each guest: An orange, to purge the dark thoughts within Each jaundiced heart with its golden skin. One hand, as she bade them the orange clasped, The knife in the other was firmly grasped. Thus she addressed them : " Dames fair and sweet, Most lovely of all when the fairest meet, Why should my pleasure your hearts annoy? Why blame me for loving my Hebrew boy? If your eyes with the light of his eyes were filled, Each tongue that blames me were hushed and stilled. I will bid him forth, if you all agree, And bring him near for your eyes to see." " This, even this," cried each eager dame, " Is the dearest wish our hearts can frame. Bid him come; let us look on the lovely face That shall stir our hearts with its youthful grace. Already charmed, though our eyes never fell On the youth we long for, we love him well. These oranges still in our hands we hold, To sweeten the spleen with their skins of gold. But they please us not, for he is not here : Let not one be cut till the boy appear."
She sent the nurse to address him thus : " Come, free-waving cypress, come forth to us.
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Let us worship the ground which thy dear feet press, And bow down at the sight of thy loveliness. Let our love-stricken hearts be thy chosen retreat, And our eyes a soft carpet beneath thy feet."
But he came not forth, like a lingering rose Which the spell of the charmer has failed to unclose. Then Zulaikha flew to the house where he dwelt, And in fond entreaty before him knelt: " My darling, the light of these longing eyes, Hope of my heart," thus she spoke with sighs, " I fed on the hope which thy words had given : But that hope from my breast by despair is driven For thee have I forfeited all: my name Through thee has been made a reproach and shame. I have found no favor : thou wouldst not fling One pitying look on so mean a thing. Yet let not the women of Memphis see That I am so hated and scorned by thee. Come, sprinkle the salt of thy lip to cure The wounds of my heart and the pain I endure. Let the salt be sacred : repay the debt Of the faithful love thou shouldst never forget."
The heart of Yusuf grew soft at the spell Of her gentle words, for she charmed so well. Swift as the wind from her knees she rose, And decked him gay with the garb she chose. Over his shoulders she drew with care, The scented locks of his curling hair, Like serpents of jet-black lustre seen With their twisted coils where the grass is green.
i
A girdle gleaming with gold, round the waist That itself was fine as a hair, she braced. I marvel so dainty a waist could bear The weight of the jewels that glittered there. She girt his brow with bright gems; each stone Of wondrous beauty enhanced his own. On his shoes were rubies and many a gem, And pearls on the latchets that fastened them. A scarf, on whose every thread was strung A loving heart, on his arm was hung. A golden ewer she gave him to hold, And a maid brow-bound with a fillet of gold In her hand a basin of silver bore, And shadow-like moved as he walked before. If a damsel had looked, she at once had resigned All joy of her life, all the peace of her mind. Too weak were my tongue if it tried to express The charm of his wonderful loveliness.
Like a bed of roses in perfect bloom That secret treasure appeared in the room. The women of Memphis beheld him, and took From that garden of glory the rose of a look. One glance at his beauty o'erpowered each soul And drew from their fingers the reins of control. Each lady would cut through the orange she held, As she gazed on that beauty unparalleled. But she wounded her finger, so moved in her heart, That she knew not her hand and the orange apart. One made a pen of her finger, to write On her soul his name who had ravished her sight —
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Yusnf and Zulaikba.
505
A reed which, struck with the point of the knife, Poured out a red flood from each joint in the strife. One scored a calendar's lines in red On the silver sheet of her palm outspread, And each column, marked with the blood drops, showed
Like a brook when the stream o'er the bank has flowed.
When they saw that youth in his beauty's pride : " No mortal is he," in amaze they cried. " No clay and water composed his frame, But, a holy angel, from heaven he came." " 'Tis my peerless boy," cried Zulaikha, " long For him have I suffered reproach and wrong. I told him my love for him, called him the whole Aim and desire of my heart and soul. He looked on me coldly; I bent not his will To give me his love and my hope fulfil. He still rebelled : I was forced to send To prison the boy whom I could not bend. In trouble and toil, under lock and chain, He passed long days in affliction and pain. But his spirit was tamed by the woe he felt, And the heart that was hardened began to melt. Keep your wild bird in a cage and see How soon he forgets that he once was free."
Of those who wounded their hands a part Lost reason and patience, and mind and heart. Too weak the sharp sword of his love to stay, They gave up their souls ere they moved away.

The reason of others grew dark and dim, And madness possessed them for love of him. Bareheaded, barefooted, they fled amain, And the light that had vanished never kindled again. To some their senses at length returned, But their hearts were wounded, their bosoms burned. They were drunk with the cup which was full to the brim,
And the birds of their hearts were ensnared by him.
Nay, Yusuf s love was a mighty bowl
With varied power to move the soul.
One drank the wine till her senses reeled;
To another, life had no joy to yield ;
One offered her soul his least wish to fulfil;
One dreamed of him ever, but mute and still.
But only the woman to whom no share
Of the wine was vouchsafed could be pitied there.
Threats.
When many rivals compete, the prize Waxes more dear in the winner's eyes, When another loves the fair maid you seek, The love grows strong that before was weak, And the flame that languished bursts forth anew When eager rivals come near to sue. The flame fed afresh on Zulaikha's mind, And her heart more strongly to Yusuf inclined. Again she spoke to that lovely band, Whom love had wounded in heart and hand :
" If ye think I had reason, forbear to chide And blame me for love which I could not hide. The door of friendship is open; be Friends in my trouble and prosper me."
They swept the chords of love's lute and raised Their voices in tune and excused and praised. " Yes, he is lord of the realm of the soul; There his is the right and the sway and control. What creature that looks — nay, even what stone — On that lovely face, calls its heart its own? If thy love for him be thy sum of distress, Thine excuse is sufficient, his loveliness. Breathes there a mortal beneath the sky, Who can look unmoved on that witching eye ? The heaven has oft compassed the earth, but where Has it seen a darling so bright and fair ? Thou hast loved the sweet youth, but thou art not to blame,
Thy soul is afire, but thy love is no shame. May his strong heart touched by thy passion relent, And shame make thy darling his coldness repent." They ceased. On Yusuf their eyes they bent, And addressed him thus in admonishment: " Joy of the age, from the east to the west, The fame of thy virtue by all is confessed. This garden, where roses with thorns we see, Has ne'er grown a rose without thorns like thee. Stoop down for a little, and ac^d a grace To that height by descent from thy lofty place. Zulaikha is dust for thy feet to tread,Trail thy skirt for a while where that dust is spread. How, O pure one ! wilt thou be hurt By touching the dust for a time with thy skirt ? One wish has Zulaikha : no longer refuse To grant the sole favor for which she sues. If thy wish be to have no desires of thine own, Oh, leave not the thirsty to languish alone. She has waited on thee, with thy wishes complied; Oh, let not the meed of her love be denied. Regard her entreaties, no longer be coy, For we fear in our hearts, O too beautiful boy, If thou still wilt rebel and no warning wilt heed, The fruit in the end will be bitter indeed. She will wash out thy love from the depths of her soul,
And a deluge of fury will over thee roll. Beware, and remember love turned to hate, Will press the old friend with the sorest weight. When over the bank the fierce torrents burst, The mother will tread on the child she nursed. She threatens a prison. Beware, beware, And think of the pains that await thee there. 'Tis narrow and dark like a tyrant's grave, Far from it fly those who have lives to save; Where the foul air stifles the living breath, Where wretches lie who are waiting for death, The hand of the builder has fashioned there No narrowest passage for light or air. Plague is the gift which the close air brings, And its floor is the soil whence misery springs.
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Yusuf and Zulaihba
The light of dawn never enters where
The door is closed with the key of despair.
Narrow and blacker than pitch, the chains
Are the only treasure the vault contains.
There without bread, without water, lie
The weary wretches who fain would die.
Warders watch over them, turn by turn,
And their eyes are fierce and their words are stern.
Now say, shall such an ill mansion be,
O heart-enslaver, a home for thee ?
Let not thy heart be so cruel; spare
Thyself and open the door to her prayer.
Bend thy proud head as a reed is bent:
Banish all fear from thy heart, and consent.
Or if thy fancy perchance prefer
More winning beauty and turn from her,
To us in secret thy heart incline,
And be ours forever as we are thine.
See, in our charms we are matchless ; see,
Moons lighting the heaven of beauty are we.
Shame makes Zulaikha her own mouth close
When we open our lips whence the honey flows.
How can Zulaikha with us compare ?
So sweet are we and so bright and fair."
He heard the voice of the charmers, and knew That their zeal for Zulaikha was all untrue. They would lead him to swerve from his faith and err, But more for the sake of themselves than of her. His heart was troubled, he turned aside, And no tender look to their looks replied.


510
Jami.
He lifted to heaven his hands and prayed :
" 0 Thou who givest the needy aid,
Friend of the humble recluse, the sure
Help and refuge of all who are pure;
Against the oppressor a strong defence,
The lamp and beacon of innocence ;
Their wiles torment me. The bolt, the bar,
The chains of the prison were better far.
Years in a dungeon were lighter pain
Than to look on the face of these women again.
Thus our hearts grow blind that we cannot see,
And we wander farther and farther from Thee.
If Thou wilt not turn their devices aside
Who have strayed from the path and their faith denied,
Who will not permit me to rest and be free —
If Thou wilt not aid me, ah, woe is me."
For prison he prayed. Nor would God deny The boon he sought with his eager cry. But had Yusuf asked at His hands release, The boy unimprisoned had gone in peace. From the snares of the women the bird had flown, And the pains of the dungeon he ne'er had known.
Imprisonment.
In vain they tempted him. No success, Had the art of each wily idolatress. The pure soul of Yusuf was still unmoved, Nay, firmer still by temptation proved. And like bats that flee ere the sun is bright,

Yusuf and Zulaikha.	511
They despaired of the joy of his beauty's light.
But they left not Zulaikha a moment's rest, On her sorrowing soul their advice they pressed. "Poor suffering creature," 'twas thus they cried, " Unworthiest thou to be thus denied; No Houri's child is like Yusuf fair, But he will not listen to grant thy prayer. We gave him rebuke and advice enough, And the file of our tongue we made sharp and rough. But his heart is hard, and he will not feel; The file, though rough, would not bite the steel. Let the forge — his prison — be heated, so The stubborn iron will melt and glow. When the metal grows soft in the flame, the skill Of the smith can fashion its form at will. If the softened iron thou canst not mould, Why hammer in vain when the steel is cold? "
She trusted the words that the charmers spoke, And hope in her bosom again awoke. She would prison the treasure her heart loved best, And make him suffer that she might rest. When love is not perfect, with one sole thought — Himself — is the heart of the lover fraught. He looks on his love as a charming toy, The spring and source of his selfish joy. One rose will he pluck from his love, and leave A hundred thorns her lone heart to grieve.
As Zulaikha sat by her husband's side, She poured out the rage of her soul and cried : " This boy has brought me to grief and shame ;

1
512
Jami.
The high and the humble reproach my name. Men and women the story tell, How I pine for the youth whom I love too well ; That I am the game he has struck with his dart, And laid on the ground with a bleeding heart. Barb upon barb in my breast, they say, Has drained the blood from the stricken prey; No hair on my head from that love is free, And my very self is a stranger to me. To send him to prison and thus repel The growing slander, methinks, were well, And in every street of the town to proclaim By the voice of the crier the traitor's shame; Thus shall be punished the slave who allows His eye to look on his master's spouse, And with lawless feet, on the carpet spread For the lord who owns him, presumes to tread. The tongue of reproach will be silent when My avenging wrath is made known to men."
The plan she spoke to his willing ear, Delighted the heart of the Grand Vizir. " I have pondered it long," was the answer he made; " Long on my soul has the trouble weighed ; But I never have pierced a pearl so fine, Or devised a plan to compare with thine. The boy is thine own, as thou wilt, to treat ; Sweep thou the dust from the path of thy feet."
She heard his speech with a joyful smile, And she turned to Yusuf the rein of her guile : " O wish of my heart and desire of mine eyes,
to
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Yusuf and Zulaikha.
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The only treasure on earth I prize, My lord's permission has left me free To deal as my will may incline with thee. Thy head, if I will, in a prison must lie, Thy foot, if I order, will tread the sky. Why still rebellious ? why still so blind ? Bend thy proud spirit at last and be kind. Oh, come, tread the path of agreement and peace; Me from torment, thyself from affliction, release. Come, grant me my wish; I with thine will comply; In the zenith of glory thy name shall be high. Beware, beware, or the door will unclose Of a prison fraught with a hundred woes; And to lie there in sorrow and chains will be Less sweet than to sit and smile softly on me." He opened his lips in reply : but well You know the answer I need not tell. In Zulaikha's bosom resentment woke, And thus to the chief of the guard she spoke : " Off with his robe and his cap of gold; In coarsest woollen his limbs enfold. His silver with fetters of iron deck, And bind the slave's collar about his neck. Guilty of crime, make him sit on an ass And through every street of the city pass; And let a crier's loud voice proclaim That the treacherous servant, lost to shame, Who dares on his master's carpet to tread, Shall thus with scorn to his prison be led." The multitude gathered on every side,

I
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514
Jami.
And " God forbid," in amaze they cried, " That from one so fair should come evil deed — The robber of hearts cause a heart to bleed. Of the race of the angels he surely is one, And no deeds of Satan by them are done. No evil act will the lovely do, For the sage has said, and his words are true : ' The fair in face are not soiled with sin; Less fair are their looks than their souls within. But he who is hideous in form and face, Has a heart in his breast that is yet more base.' And we see the truth of the maxim still, Ne'er the hideous do good nor the lovely ill." Thus to the dungeon the boy was driven, And there to the charge of the jailer given. Within the prison the saint was led, And life seemed to return to the corpse of the dead. A cry of joy from the captives rose, And happiness came to that house of woes; While all in rapture their fetters beat As they saw the approach of his blessed feet. None felt the chain that confined each limb, The ring on his neck was no bond for him. A rapturous joy was his gloomy fate, And a mountain of woe was a straw in weight. Wherever is one of the Houris' race She makes a heaven of the dreariest place. Where the loved one comes with her cheek of rose, There a rose-bed is though a furnace glows. When the glad commotion was hushed and still,

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To the jailer Zulaikha declared her will: " Spare him : with kindness the captive treat; Strike the ring from his neck and the chain from his feet.
Strip off the rough gown from his silver skin; Bring silken raiment to robe him in, Wash the dust of toil from his head, and set On his brows the bright round of a coronet. A separate house for his rest prepare, And lodge him apart from the others there. The door and the walls with sweet scent perfume; Brighten each window and arch of his room; And over the floor be a carpet laid Of silver tissue and gold brocade."
Within the chamber the captive passed : The carpet of prayer on the ground he cast, And raised — for such was his wont each day— His tranquil face to the arch to pray. He joyed to have fled from the women's snare, And his burden was light for his heart to bear. Woe never visits the world but it brings Sweet scent of the coming of happier things; And the weary captive who lies in chains Feels the breath of a blessing to lighten his pains.
Repentance.
In this vault of turki's upreared of old, The children of Adam are dull and cold; Their hearts are never in thankful mood,
m - -- .....=
516	Jami.
But their thoughts are still of ingratitude; And the worth is unknown, till they fade away, Of the blessings which brighten each passing day. Though many a lover may nerve his heart, When he deems he is weary of love, to part, When the flame of absence is kindled by Doom His body will waste and his heart consume. The light that the rose-cheek of Yusuf shed Made the house of bondage a bright rose-bed ; But Zulaikha, whose palace had been more fair Than a garden of roses when he was there, Felt a deep gloom on her spirit press, When she saw not the light of his loveliness. Sad was her heart in that dungeon's hold, And one sorrow by parting became twofold.
Where is woe like the lover's who looks on the place Once blest with the light of his darling's face? What comfort is found in the drear rose-bed, When the thorns are left and the roses are dead? Ah, how the heart of the bulbul is torn — A roseless garden and spears of thorn ! When her look on her desolate garden was bent, Like a bud unclosing her robe she rent. Why should the hand of the mourner refrain From tearing his robe in a torment of pain? Let him rend through his bosom a way to his heart That comfort may enter and banish the smart.
Each thing he had touched, as it met her eye, Drew from her bosom a long deep sigh.


Yusuf and Zulaikha.	517
Sad was her soul, and her eyes were dim,
As she caught up the raiment once worn by him.
But the touch was to her as the breath of the rose,
And soothed the fierce pain of her burning woes.
About her own neck his collar she tied,
With a hundred kisses of love applied :
" This is my collar of glory, nay,
The band of my heart," she would cry, "and its stay."
To place her arm in his mantle's sleeve
Would for a moment her pain relieve;
As she thought of her love it was touched and kissed,
And with silver filled of her dainty wrist
She pressed to her eyes — and the touch was sweet —
The skirt that had lain on her darling's feet,
And, hopeless to fasten her lips on them,
Deluded her soul with a kiss of the hem.
Pearl and ruby in showers she spread
Over the cap that had decked his head.
For once it had shaded the beautiful brow
To which the whole world loved in worship to bow.
To the zone that had girded his waist she gave
The honor due from a faithful slave ;
As a token most dear of her vanished fawn
Round her neck for a snare was the girdle drawn.
With dim eyes weeping, her hands displayed
The glittering folds of his robe of brocade.
She bathed its skirts with her tears, and the gleam
Of the rubies she dropped was on band and seam.
Thus was the grief of Zulaikha renewed Through the dreary day by each thing she viewed.As she knew not the value of present joy The fierce flame of absence must bliss destroy. Zulaikha sorrowed, but sorrowed in vain; Only patience was left her to heal her pain. Yes, patience would bring her the balm of rest, But how could she banish her love from her breast?
Death to the lover who weeps alone Is the loss of the love he has loved and known. Of torments and woe there is none like this — To part from one's love after days of bliss. If no sweet companionship linked their lives, His heart may break, but it still survives.
Zulaikha fain from herself would fly, And, of good despairing, would gladly die. The wall and the floor with her head she smote, The bloodthirsty dagger was faised to her throat. She sought, like a watchman, the roof at night To cast herself down from the giddy height. She twisted a cord of her hair, and strove To stifle her breath with the noose she wove. She sought release for her weary soul — A poisonous draught from life's pleasant bowl. She sickened of all, and would fain destroy Her life with each thing that was once her joy.
The pitying nurse sought her lady's side, Kissed her hands and feet and blessed her and cried: " May thy darling return to dispel thy woe ; May thy cup with the wine of his love o'erflow ! May a happy meeting thy bliss restore, With no fear of parting for evermore !
Y

Yusuf and Zulaikha.	519
How long shall this folly subdue thee ? Arise,
Throw off thy madness, again be wise.
This sad heart bleeds when thy grief I see :
What woman ever has acted like thee?
Patience — list to the voice of age —
Patience alone will thy grief assuage.
Impatience has brought thee this fever of pain :
Let patience allay it with soothing rain.
When o'er thee the whirlwinds of sorrow pass,
Flee not before them like scattered grass.
Keep thy foot in thy skirt with undaunted will,
And stand firm in thy place like a rooted hill.
Patience will lead thee to lasting bliss,
And the fruit of thy longing thou shalt not miss.
Every triumph from patience springs,
The happy herald of better things.
Through patience the pearl from the raindrop grows,
And the diamond shines and the ruby glows;
The full ear springs from the scattered seed,
And food from the ear for the traveller's need.
So moons come and vanish till babes are born,
And with moonlight beauty the world adorn."
Zulaikha listened, and, half consoled, The outward signs of her grief controlled. Rent to the skirt was her robe, but still She confined her feet with a stronger will. But if for a moment the lover hears, The warner speaks to forgetful ears; Hushed is that tongue and no traces remain Of the words of wisdom he spoke in vain.


520
Jami.
The Visit to the Prison.
When the sun, like Yusuf, afar in the west,
In his gloomy prison had sunk to rest;
And, like Zulaikha, the mourning skies
Wept for his loss with their starry eyes;
While the skirt of the heavens was dipped in a flood
Of rose-red hue from its tears of blood;
Hot tears for Yusuf Zulaikha shed,
And her eyes like the evening horizon were red.
She went to her chamber to sigh and to grieve,
And the wail of the day was renewed at eve.
When the day of a lover is merged in night Again wakes his pain with redoubled might. For the loss of his love his lone day is dim : But the night is yet darker and sadder for him. Dark is the day when she comes not back, But the night is darker, deep black upon black For night to the lover comes heavy with gloom, And fierce is the offspring that comes from her womb; When the terrible child is brought forth it lives On blood for the milk which a mother gives. Ah, think what woe must the mother bring From whom a child thirsting for blood can spring ! In the wild impatience that drove her mad, The night to Zulaikha was gloomy and sad; The darling who ravished her heart was away, And her night was moonless and sunless her day. There was splendor of torches, yet dark was each place Where shone not the light of her loved one's face.
•ar

Yusuf and Zulaikba.
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Through the stress of her anguish she closed no eye;
And she said with hot tears and a bitter cry :
" How fares he this night ? Ah, how can I tell ?
Who is the bail that they serve him well ?
Who has smoothed the folds at his feet, and set
In order the bolster and coverlet?
Whose hand has lighted a lamp by his bed,
And softened the pillow to rest his head?
Who has loosened the zone from his waist, and told,
To lull him, tales of the times of old ?
Has the prison injured his tender frame ?
Like a bird encaged, is the captive tame?
Have his roses paled in the dungeon air?
Are his locks still bright as the spikenard's hair?
Is the bloom of the rose-garden faded and dead ?
Is the splendor that shone from the spikenard fled ?
In his heart like a rosebud compressed with woes,
Or expanded in joy like the perfect rose?"
Thus till a watch of the night was spent She poured out her anguish in wail and lament. Then strength departed, endurance died ; The brook of her patience was empty and dried. Then the flame of her longing flashed forth : with eyes Streaming she called to her nurse : " Arise, I can wait no longer: arise, let us go Unseen of all to the house of woe. There we will hide in some corner; thus The Moon of our prison will shine for us. With the rosy cheek of one's darling, there No prison may be, but the spring is fair.
1

Jami.
Let others be glad when gay gardens they see: This bud of the prison is all to me."
In graceful motion away she sped, And the nurse followed close where the lady led. She came like a moon to the prison wall, And the warder rose at her secret call. He opened the gate as he moved the bar And showed her the moon of her love afar. On the carpet of worship his head he bent, As the sun declines ere the day is spent. Then he reared like a flambeau his stately height, And threw o'er the captives long rays of light. Then he curved his back to a moon whose glow Fell on the carpet outspread below. Then, like a rose-twig by the night-wind swayed, He bowed and to God for forgiveness prayed; Then in humble hope with his head depressed Like a modest violet sat at rest.
Silent and hidden she moved no limb, Far from herself but so near to him. But she wept in her heart, and the tears she shed Turned the jasmine hue of her cheek to red. With pearl she mangled the ruby, and tore The rich ripe dates that the palm tree bore. Then her grief burst forth, and while hot tears ran From their fountain in torrents, she thus began : " Eye and lamp of the lovely ones, thou Whom the fairest would follow with prayer and vow, In my breast thou hast kindled a flame of fire; From my head to my foot I am all desire.
Yusuf and Zulaihha.
52>
But no drop of pity hast thou bestowed To quench the flame when its fury glowed. Thou hast gored my breast and no pity felt For the cruel wound which thy hand has dealt. Hast thou no ruth, O most heartless, none For me rejected, oppressed, undone? I bear from thee daily fresh grief and scorn: Ah, woe is me that I ever was born ! Or if she had borne me, a babe unblest, Would I ne'er had lain on my mother's breast, Ne'er on kindly milk from her bosom fed, But deadly poison had sucked instead."
Thus sad Zulaikha wept and complained; But cold and unyielding his heart remained. Unmoved was his soul, or no sign betrayed That his ruth was stirred as she wept and prayed.
The night passed away : the pure skies o'erhead Wept tears like those which the holy shed. Loud sounded the drum from the palace, high Rose through the air the Muezzin's cry. The watch-dog's baying was hushed, and round His throat for a collar his tail was wound. Up started the cock from his sleep; his throat Sent forth to the morning its clarion note. Then Zulaikha rose ; from the jail she withdrew, But its threshold she kissed ere she bade it adieu.
Long as her moon in that prison lay, To its portal nightly she found her way. Thus ever she went and she came; and this Was her heart's sole comfort, her only bliss.
None loves a garden where bright flowers blow As she loved to visit that house of woe. Yes, when your love is in prison, where Will your soul find comfort save only there ?
The Palace-roof.
Night o'er the lover a soft veil throws To lighten the pang of his bitterest woes, And brings him many a counsel that lay Lost in the toil of the bustling day. As her nightly sorrow grew less and less, And her anguish lost some of its bitterness, The day returning her pangs renewed, And the hundred woes of her solitude. Her road to the prison by day was barred, And away from that prison her life was hard. Some costly trifle each morn she laid In the willing hand of her trustiest maid, And instead of herself she commissioned her To look on the face of the prisoner. When from her errand the maid returned, A thousand caresses her task had earned. On the damsel's foot she would rest her cheek She would kiss her eyes and thus softly speak : " Thy foot has been where my darling lies, And his cheek has been seen by these happy e No kiss of mine on his eyes may be pressed; My cheek on his foot is forbidden to rest. Yet this eye of thine for a moment — for this

Yusuf and Zulaikba.
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Has looked on the eye of my love — I kiss; And I lay my cheek on thy feet instead, Which have trodden the ground which my darling's tread."
Then would she question the maiden : " How Was the glance of his eye? And his cheek? And brow?
In his daily life is there knot or thorn?
Is his face untroubled, or pale and worn ?
Has the lonely air of the prison made
His body suffer, his roses fade ?
Did he deign to taste of the dainties I sent ?
Does he think of her whose heart he has rent?"
She would ask and listen; then swift would she rise
And hasten away with her streaming eyes.
High on her house stood a turret between, Whose pillars the roof of the prison was seen; There, when the hours of the night had flown, She would close the door fast and would sit alone. On each cheek was a ruby, a pearl in each eye, As she gazed on the prison and said with a sigh : " What am I to behold his dear face ! To see The roof where he dwells is enough for me. Unworthy to look on his cheek, mine eye With those walls and that door will I satisfy. A Paradise blooms in the dreariest walls Wherever the light of my dear moon falls. That roof is blest with a matchless prize, For the sun of the world in its shelter lies. My back with a burden of grief is bent
When I think of that wall where his back has leant.
Joy through that portal erect can march,
But my cypress must stoop ere he passed the arch.
Ah, happy threshold ! Ah, blest above
All others to kiss the dear feet of my love !
O joy, when that sun makes me crumble away
Into atoms scarce seen as they float in the ray,
When I leap from my window that sun to meet
And throw myself down at his lovely feet.
Ah, even the earth is more blest than I,
For his graceful feet on her bosom lie,
And the dust of the path which his footsteps stir,
Clings to his skirt and falls sweetly on her."
Through the weary day till the night brought ease Such was her bondage, her words were like these. While the light of her heart in that prison lay, This is the story of night and day. Still to the prison at night she went, And by day her eyes on its roof were bent. Day after day, week after week, She looked on that wall and she gazed on his cheek. She had made him a home in her heart: no care For her life, for the world, could find entrance there. Lost to herself she thought of him still, From her heart's tablet washing all good and ill. When the call of her maidens rang loud and clear She scarce came to herself, though she seemed to hear.
Then to those maidens she oft would say: " My senses are gone, ah, forever, astray.
Yusuf and Zulaikha.
52 7
Attention from me it is hopeless to seek; Touch me and shake me before you speak. I may come to myself, by your touches stirred; Mine ear may be opened, your message heard. My heart is with him in the prison : hence Springs all the trouble that steals my sense. She in whose bosom that fair moon lives, No care and no thought to another gives."
Fierce fever followed her heart's wild pain, And the point of the lancet must open a vein. They who stood round saw each blood-drop spell A letter of Yusuf s name as it fell. This word on the ground, so that all might note, The lancet-reed of the surgeon wrote. So full of her love were the vein and the skin That nothing save Yusuf might dwell therein. Blest is the lover whose soul has fraught The zephyr of love with no selfish thought; Whose heart is so full of its darling, there No room may be for a single hair; Where absolute love through each vein is spread, In each drop of his blood, in each hair of his head; Who forgets his own form and his features, knows No love of friends and no hatred of foes; Who bids farewell to the world, looks down With scorn on ambition and throne and crown. If he utters a word 'tis to her that he speaks, And would win for her only each thing that he seeks. He recks not of self, and, in all he desires, His love for his darling each thought inspires.

528
Jami.
His former self he has thrown aside, And each thought is ennobled and purified.
Rise, Jami, thou ! A new life begin; Seek the mansion eternal and enter in. Thou knowest the way which thy feet should tread: Ne'er the path of the sluggard to bliss hath led. Quit self and this being forever: set Thy feet no more in the worldling's net. Once thou wast not, and no loss was thine : Now be rich forever, this life resign. Seek not thy bliss in thyself; refrain From the fruitless hope that will bring no gain.
Fellow-prisoners.
He who is born to high fate on earth
Disperses the dark as he springs to birth.
For him in each thicket a lily blows,
And the musk of Tartary breathes from the rose.
He visits the field like a cloud of soft rain,
And Paradise blooms on the thirsty plain.
Like a breeze of spring through a garden he strays,
And the rose awakened her lamp displays.
If his face in a dungeon he deign to show,
Each captive there will forget his woe.
So while the prison where Yusuf lay Smiled with his presence and all was gay, Each prisoner, happy in heart, forgot The bond and the chain and his dreary lot. But if ever a captive sickened there,

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The weary victim of toil and care,
Yusuf watched tenderly o'er him till he
Was made whole from the pain of his malady.
Was the soul of any oppressed with grief
Yusuf was ready to lend relief,
With a smile so sweet and a voice so kind
That the mourner was cheered and his heart resigned.
If a penniless wretch of his lot complained,
As the new moon filled or the full moon waned,1
Yusuf took from the wealthy a golden key,
Relieved the debtor and made him free.
If a rich man dreamed a sad dream and was caught
In the threatening whirlpool of wildered thought,
The dream was explained by those lips, and he
Was saved from the depth of the surging sea.
Two lords, once high in the ruler's grace, Had fallen low from their lofty place, And, doomed in that prison long days to spend, Had won the love of that faithful friend. Each dreamed a dream one night, and the breast Of each was moved with a wild unrest; For one had the promise of freedom, one Was warned that the days of his life were done. So weighed those dreams, both of hope and dread, On the heart of each, uninterpreted. They came to Yusuf and prayed him unfold The secret drift of the dreams they told. "Thou on the gallows," he said, " must swing; And thou wilt return to the court of the king." 1 As the days came near on which he was bound to pay debts.530
Jami.
True were his words. To the youth restored To his place of honor beside his lord, Ere he turned to the court from his bonds set free, Thus spoke Yusuf: " Remember me. If fortune favor thee, time may bring A happy hour to address the king. Thou wilt gain thy reward if thou speak to him then As he sits in the hall with his noblemen. ' A stranger,' say, ' in the prison lies Barred from the sight of thy pitying eyes. It beseems not a heart that is righteous like thine To suffer the guiltless in bonds to pine.' "
But when that servant his rank regained, And the cup of the grace of his master drained, For many a year his glad heart forgot The prayer of Yusuf or heeded not. The tree of his promise brought forth despair, And Yusuf yet lingered a captive there.
From him who is chosen, whom God above Deems worthy to rest in the shade of His love, All earthly means in this world are withdrawn: No mortal may hold His elected in pawn. Gods draws him away to Himself alone, And to none but Him may his love be shown. To the will of another he may not bend, But on God alone may his hope depend. No prayer to others must he prefer, But be God's own servant and prisoner.Yusuf and Zulaikha.
The King's Vision,
Many a lock in this world we see To open whose wards we can find no key, When the wit of the wise is of no avail, And care and quick sight and endeavor fail. On a sudden, touched by no master-hand, With no device that an artist planned, Through a cause unknown the lock open flies And displays to the seeker the long-sought prize.
The heart of Yusuf all hope resigned That his own device would his bonds unbind. His hope was only in Him from whom Comes help to us all in the days of gloom, And, free from self-thought in his low estate, He was guided by God the Compassionate.
Clear to the ruler of Egypt's sight Appeared seven kine, as he dreamed one night; Each more fair than the other, all Were healthy and handsome and fat from the stall. After them others advancing were seen, Equal in number, but weak and lean. By these the former were overpowered And, like the grass of the field, devoured. Seven ears of corn then were seen to rise, That might gladden the heart and delight the eyes. Then seven thin ears, grown each from a stem, Followed and withered and ruined them.
In the early morn when the king awoke, To each wakeful heart of his dream he spoke.
Jami.
" We cannot interpret it," all replied;
" Thought and conjecture are here defied.
The dream is a riddle no wit may explain,
And wisest are they who from guess refrain."
Then he who had knowledge of Yusuf flung
Aside the veil that before him hung,
And said : — "A youth in the prison lies,
In solving riddles supremely wise.
His wit can interpret each dream, and he
Will bring up the pearl when he dives in the sea.
Permit me to tell him this secret thing,
And the drift of thy dream from his lips will I bring."
"What need," said the king, "of permission to speak?
What better than sight may the blind man seek?
And from this moment the eye of my mind,
Till I master this secret, is dark and blind."
He ran to the prison with utmost speed,
And gave to Yusuf the dream to read.
" Years," he explained, "are those ears and kine,
Whose looks of those years are the mark and sign.
The fair fat kine and the full ears well
The nature and hope of those years may tell.
The meagre ears, the kine thin and weak,
Of years of dearth and misfortune speak.
In the former seven the kindly rain
Will fill the fields full with rich grass and grain,
And all the land will be glad and gay.
But seven will come,when those pass away,
To ruin the gifts of the years before;
And the hearts of men will be glad no more.

CED
V
Yusuf and Zulaikha.
533
No gracious cloud the sweet rain will bring,
No blade of grass from the ground will spring.
No joy will the wealth of the rich supply,
And the poor and needy will hunger and die.
On the table of Time is no food, and Bread !
Is the cry of thousands who die unfed."
The noble listened, and straight returned
To the court of the king with the lore he had learned.
To his master the words of Yusuf he told,
And made his glad heart like a bud unfold.
" Bring Yusuf to me," said the monarch, " that I
On the truth of these words may more surely rely.
'Tis sweetest to hear a dear friend repeat
With his own lips the words which, reported, are sweet;
And who is content from another to hear
The words he may draw from the lips that are dear?"
Again to the prison his steps he bent, And gave Yusuf the message the king had sent: " Fair cypress, come from thy still retreat, In the monarch's garden to set thy feet. O come, and the court of his house will shine More fair with the rose of that cheek of thine." " Shall I visit," cried Yusuf, " the court of a king Who has cast me aside like a guilty thing — Who has left me in prison long years, nor bent One pitying glance on the innocent? Let him first command, if he will that I go Forth to his court from this house of woe, That they whom, at sight of me, wonder led To wound with the knife their own hands till they bled,
H
»
H


I

N
534
Jami.
Like the Pleiades gathered before his face, Uplift the veil and make clear my case; And let them declare for what fault or crime I have lain in the prison this dreary time. Then will the secret come forth to light, And my skirt will be proved to be pure and white. The path of sin have I never pursued, But traitorous thought in my heart eschewed. To my lord I was faithful in deed and in thought, No perfidy planned, no dishonesty wrought. Ere thus with my master I stooped to deal, Like a midnight thief I would plunder and steal."
The message was given ; the monarch heard; To the women of Memphis he sent his word, And, called from their homes by the summons, they came
To the light of his presence like moths to the flame. When their company entered the court of their lord, He loosened his tongue as a flaming sword : " How did that pure light offend, that you The sword of dishonor against him drew ? How could you send to a prison the boy Whose face was your garden and spring of joy? Bind chains on the neck of an idol for whom The weight of a rose were too heavy a doom ? No chains but the links of the dew should be borne By the rose that is bowed by the breath of the morn." " O King," they answered, " whose splendor has lent To the crown and the throne a new ornament, Purity only in Yusuf we saw,

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Yusuf and Zulaikba.
535
Honor and love of each holiest law. No pearl ever lay 'neath the depth of the sea More pure in the shell that enfolds it than he."
There too Zulaikha sat with the rest, With no lie on her lip and no guile in her breast. The schooling of love and his sweet control Had chastened her spirit and softened her soul. The splendor of truth from her bosom broke, And like the true dawning of day she spoke. The veil of her folly was flung aside, And, " The light of the truth is revealed," she cried. " To the charge of Yusuf no sin is laid; I in my love for him erred and strayed. With the spells of my love I would draw him near, And I drove him afar when he would not hear. To the house of woe for my woes was he sent, And my sufferings caused his imprisonment. When the love-grief I felt was too heavy to bear, Of the load of my sorrows I gave him a share. I was the tyrant, and, oh ! that he Were repaid for the woes he has suffered through me !
Each grace, each honor and bounty — all That the king may give — were a gift too small."
He heard Zulaikha the secret disclose; He smiled like a rosebud, and bloomed like a rose. He gave command to his servants to speed, And back from the prison bring Yusuf freed. " In the loveliest garden the rose should bloom, And not lie immured in a dungeon's gloom.In the realm of love he is lord supreme, And no seat but a throne may that king beseem,
Release.
In this ancient lodge 'tis a well-known tale That ne'er without bitter may sweet prevail. When the weary days of the moons have passed, The mother looks on her babe at last. In the rock pines the ruby till, one by one, Its veins are filled full of the light of the sun.
The night of Yusuf was long and drear, But it fled at last and the dawn was clear. Long on his heart lay a mountain of woes, But bright o'er its summit the sun arose. To welcome him back with due honor, all The courtiers who stood in the monarch's hall, Were straightway commanded to line the way From the court to the prison in full array. There youths apparelled in rich brocade And glittering girdles with gold inlaid; There skilful riders were fair to see, On the noblest chargers of Araby; There, bright as the sun, was a minstrel throng Skilled in all Hebrew and Syrian song; And the lords of Egypt on every side Scattered their silver coin far and wide, While the poor and needy flocked round to gain A share of the wealth of the shining rain. Forth from the prison came Yusuf, gay^
Yusuf and Zulaikha.
53 7
In the pomp and sheen of a king's array. The stately steed by his hand controlled Was a mountain covered with pearl and gold. Bags full of jewels and coin, and trays Of musk and ambergris strewed the ways, Thrown from each side at the feet of his steed, And from want the poor were forever freed. He passed through the street of the royal town; At the gate of the palace he lighted down, And silk and satin and gold brocade Beneath his feet — yea, and heads — were laid, And o'er azure carpets his steps he bent Like a moon sailing on through the firmament.
Swift as the wind the glad monarch pressed, Warned of his coming, to meet the guest. He clasped him close to his bosom : so A box tree her arms round a cypress might throw. He made him sit on his royal seat : He questioned him long, and his words were sweet. First the drift of his dream would the monarch hear, And Yusufs words made the meaning cleaxr Then of many an action and place and thing He plied him with eagerest questioning. Each answer of Yusuf was clear and true, And the king's delight with his wonder grew. " Help me with counsel," at last he said; " This dream which thy lips have interpreted — How shall I meet the woe threatened ? How drain The bitter cup of my country's pain ? "
" In the years of abundance," he thus replied,


538
Jami.
" When the clouds the blessing of rain provide, Send out thine orders that all shall till The fields of the land with one heart and will; With sharp nails harrow each stony place, And scatter the seed with the blood of the face. Let the grain, which the ears when they ripen, afford For the food of the future be gathered and stored. In the days of famine each laden ear Rends the heart of thy foe with its pointed spear. Let the gathered corn in the granaries lie ; Then, when the drought and the dearth are nigh, From the ample stores thou hast gathered give Enough to each man that his soul may five.	<
But o'er every business should one preside Whose skill and knowledge are proved and tried; Whose keen-eyed prudence each end foresees, And his hand performs what his head decrees. Search through the world for such heart and brain, A man like me will be sought in vain. This weighty task to my charge commit, For none in the land wilt thou find so fit."
The king was glad at his sage reply; Mid the lords of Egypt he raised him high. He bade the soldiers his word obey And gave him the land for his own to sway. He was Grand Vizir by the monarch's grace, And sat on the throne in the ruler's place. Enthroned he sat in his seat of pride, And the people bowed prostrate on every side. The shouts of the heralds, as forth he went

Yusuf and Zulaikha.
To the plain, rose up to the firmament. To every place, as his fancy led, By thousands his coming was heralded ; And near their lord, when he chose to ride, Was a countless army to guard and guide.
When thus to Yusuf the Lord Supreme Gave the highest rank in the King's esteem, The Grand Vizir saw his sun go down, And low sank the flag of his old renown. Crushed was his heart by his loss of state, And he fell a prey to the dart of Fate.
The Blind Widow.
Untouched by delight and by meaner pain Is the heart that loves fondly but loves in vain. Only this care to its skirts may cling; No joy may gladden, no sorrow sting. If this world of ours were a sea of woes, And the billows of wrath high as mountains rose, They might roar about him and rage, but the hem Of his garment would never be wetted by them. If Fate spread a banquet of joy — a feast Whose delight never ended and still increased — He would turn away, for the dainties there Would not lighten his load by a single hair.
A hapless bird was Zulaikha. She pined In the narrow cage of the world confined. Befriended by Fortune, in pride and power,When a rose-bed bloomed in her secret bower; With her lord beside her to shade and screen The tender plant when her bud was green — With all dainty things, if she cared but to speak; When no lamp was so bright as her youthful cheek: Yusuf e'en then her whole heart possessed — The sweet name on her lips, the dear hope in her breast.
Now, when from her side her protector was reft, When naught of her rank and her treasures was left, The sole friend of her heart, who ne'er changed his place,
Was the sweet remembrance of Yusuf s face. She thought of him ever; her sad house seemed Her dear fatherland when of him she dreamed. No food could she eat, and she closed not her eyes; She wept tears of blood and she said with sighs : — " Beloved Yusuf, where, where art thou? Why false and faithless to pledge and vow? Oh, that again those sweet hours I might see, When one happy home held my love and me ! When no fear of parting could mar delight, And I gazed on his beauty from morn till night. When stern Fate robbed me of this sweet joy, I sent to prison that innocent boy. Unseen by night to his presence I stole, And the sight of his cheek was as balm to my soul: And a glance at the walls where my darling lay Rubbed the rust of grief from my heart by day. No joy is now left me, no solace like these ;
Yusuf and Zulaikba.
541
My heart and my frame perish of pain and disease. All I have left is the image which still, Where'er I may be, this sad bosom must fill. The soul of this frame is that image, and I, Bereft of its presence, should languish and die." Then her breast and her heart she would fiercely tear,
And engrave the form of her darling there. She would strike her soft knee with her hand till the blue
Of the lotus supplanted the jasmine's hue.
I am worthy the love of my love," she would cry, " For my love is the sun and the lotus am I. As my love is the lord of the east and the west, The place of the lotus for me is the best."
She would strike her heart's fir-cone1 again and again With closed fingers knotted like sugar-cane. And her hand — no picture could match its grace — Left on her bosom a blood-red trace. For a reed each bleeding finger she took, And, white as pure camphor, her hand was a book; But the only word she could write therein Was the syllable grief on the silver skin; And ah, her beloved would read or note No single line of the word she wrote.
Long years of sorrow, each like the last, In hopeless yearning alone she passed. White, white as milk grew each plaited tress,
1 The heart, from its shape, is frequently by Persian poets likened to a fir-cone.

i

542
Jami.
And dark was the light of her loveliness. The musk had departed, the camphor was there, And the gray dawn had banished the night of her hair. From the arrow of Fate had the raven fled, And the owlet lodged in the nest instead; Lives any so old who can call to mind Owls keeping a nest by the ravens resigned ? In her eye's narcissus the jasmine grew : Tears had washed from her eyelid its jetty hue. Black in the days of her joy was that eye Which looked delighted on earth and sky. Why, when her hope and her heart had failed, And her joy passed away, was the blackness paled? From Hindustan had she learned to wear Nothing but white in her woe and despair? With wrinkles the bloom of her cheek was marred, And the leaves of the wild rose were withered and scarred;
Each line that in blandishment once lent a grace To her delicate brow now disfigured her face. In this ancient world who ever has known The smooth water lined when no breeze has blown ? But there ever were wrinkles and lines to deform Her face's soft splendor in calm or in storm. Grief had bent down the cypress once stately and proud,
And her head like a ring to her foot was bowed — Weighed down by its burden it lay on her feet, Like a ring on the door where the happy ones meet. When no longer the blessing of sight remained

Yusuf and Zulaikba.
543
On this earth with the blood of the dead distained,
She bowed down her back and she bent her head
As if seeking the treasure which long had fled.
Slowly and sadly the years came round :
Her foot was unringed and her head uncrowned.
There gleamed on her shoulder no satin's sheen,
No precious gems in her ears were seen.
On her neck was no collar of costly stone;
No gold-wrought veil o'er her cheek was thrown.
On the cold bare earth for a bed she lay,
And the cheek once so dainty was pillowed on clay.
Ah, earth, with his love, was a pleasanter bed
Than a silken couch by a Houri spread !
Yes, a jewelled pillow from Paradise seemed
The brick on her cheek when of him she dreamed.
In this sorrow, of which but a part is sung In the vocal pearls which my pen has strung, His name was all that her lips could speak, The only comfort her soul might seek. While yet she had treasures, a wealth untold Of jewels and silver, of pearl and gold, Her gold and silver she cast at the feet Of her whom some tale of her love would repeat, And her pearls and her jewels she gave to each Who poured forth those jewels and pearls of speech; But her gold and silver, her pearls, and her vast Treasure of jewels were spent at last. With a woollen gown and a girdle rent From the bark of the palm she was then content. Then all on the knee of deep silence fell:
No more of Yusuf she heard them tell. No longer came the sweet tidings to cheer Her lonely heart through the path of her ear.
That this food of her life might be still supplied She built her a hut by the highway side, That each ear might catch — and the hope was sweet —
The measured tread of his escort's feet.
Ah, poor, unhappy, deserted soul,
From whose hand has fallen the rein of control!
From the love of her darling by Fate debarred,
The voice of her longing was tuneless and hard.
No breath from her love might be wafted to her,
No tidings be learned from a messenger.
Oft would she question the wind if it knew
Aught of her love, and the bird as it flew.
Whenever a traveller passed the place
With the dust of the road on his weary face,
She would wash that brow, she would bathe those feet,
For they came from his home to her lone retreat.
If her lord and king by her cottage passed,
No look on his face had she power to cast,
Content with the sound of his horse's tread,
And the dust of his path on her happy head.
The Cottage of Reeds.
A cottage of reeds had she built by the side Of the way where Yusuf was wont to ride; And with reeds that uttered a plaintive sound
Yusuf and Zulaikha.
Like the voice of a flute, she had fenced it round. Whenever she uttered her wail and cry, Each reed in concert gave sigh for sigh. When the fire of absence consumed her, the seeds Of the wild flame fell on the pitying reeds. Heartbroken she dwelt in that hut, nor stirred From the place where she lay like a wounded bird. Yet the thought of her love was so sweet a pain That each reed was to her like a sugar-cane.
In his stalls had Yusuf a fairy steed, A courser through space of no earthly breed; Swift as the heavens, and black and white With a thousand patches of day and night; Now a jetty spot, now a starry blaze, Like Time with succession of nights and days. With his tail the heavenly Virgo's hair, With his hoof the moon, was afraid to compare. Each foot with a golden new moon was shod, And the stars of its nails struck the earth as he trod. When his hoof smote sharp on the rugged flint A planet flashed forth from the new moon's dint; And a new moon rose in the sky when a shoe From the galloping foot of the courser flew. Like an arrow shot through its side in the chase, He outstripped the game in the deadly race. At a single bound he would spring, unpressed, With the lightning's speed from the east to the west. As he lifted the dust with his foot, the wind Of the rushing tempest was left behind. If the road he traversed was dank and wet,
g§3i f^Ks^EsasaOn his coat you would see not a drop of sweat. But oft would his paces be gentle and slow, As the big drops combine till the torrents flow. Now, a flying treasure, away would he dash O'er the plain, untouched by the snake1 of the lash. Had he loved to rest in his quiet stall, The heavens had served him, a careful thrall; Had quenched his thirst from the fount of the sun, With the urn of the moon, when his course was run. They had fed him with Virgo's gold barley, and hay Gleaned from the field of the Milky Way.2 A sieve for his use they had bidden prepare, Each year and month, of a comet's hair; And the birds who sing praise at the break of morn From the Lote tree3 had flocked to pick stones from his corn.
On his back for a saddle the Scales had been flung, And a new moon each side for his stirrup hung. When Yusuf mounted, the moon bestrode The Scales his saddle and forth he rode. At the touch of that thigh the proud courser neighed, And his thoughts no more from the journey strayed. The neigh of the charger rang clear and loud, And the drum of departure was shouts frorrf the crowd; And like planets grouped round the moon a ring Of courtiers gathered about their king.
From her cottage of reeds came Zulaikha out
1	An allusion to the serpent which is said to guard hidden treasure.
2	Kahkashan, its Persian name, means literally " Hay-Attractor." 8 The Sidrah or Lote tree in Paradise.
Yusuf and Zulaihha.	\
When she knew of his coming and heard them shout.
In grief and anguish of heart by the side
Of the road he would travel she sat and cried.
When the host that preceded his courser was near
Loud rang the voices of boys with a cheer :
" Look, Yusuf himself, whom the sun in the sky
And the bright moon envy, is nigh, is nigh."
Zulaikha answered : " Mine eyes are blind,
But no trace of Yusuf mid these I find.
Mock me not, darlings ! oh, spare me the pain,
No breath from Yusuf has reached my brain.
The musk of Tartary scents the place
That is blest with the light of his lovely face,
And when he sits in his litter, thence
A precious perfume pervades the sense."
Nearer and nearer, mid loud acclaim, Of hearts that were jubilant, Yusuf came. They called to Zulaikha : — " The guards are nigh, But no trace of Yusuf has met our eye." " Strive not to deceive me," Zulaikha replied; " My darling's coming ye may not hide. Can the coming of one who was born to wield The sceptre of sway o'er each soul be concealed ? The breath of his fragrance gives life to the whole Of this world of ours and each single soul; And the presence of him who gives life is made known To the poor thirsty soul that must perish alone."
When Zulaikha, long buried in darkness and gloom, Heard the shout of the escort," Make room, make room !"
A loud cry she uttered: " Rejected, forlorn, A long age of absence my spirit has borne. I can suffer no more : I have had my full share : Loss of patience is now the sole loss I may bear. Far better, forever excluded from bliss, To fly from myself than to linger like this."
Thus cried Zulaikha, then sank and lay Unconscious awhile, all her senses astray. That cup of unconsciousness still she kept, As, oblivious of self, to her cottage she crept. Then rose the shrill wail as her sad heart bled, And reeds sighed in tune with the strain she led. Thus passed in her sorrow the time away, And this was the task of each mournful day.
The Convert.
Never content is the lover; each hour His longing waxes in strength and power. Ne'er to one wish for two moments true, A joy still dearer he holds in view. He would look on the rose when he breathes her scent,
And pluck the fair flower when the stem is bent.
Zulaikha had sat by the way, but now She would lift her eyes to his cheek and brow. At the foot of the image to which she prayed From the days of childhood her head she laid : " O thou, to whom praying I turn me, before Whose feet I have loved thy dear might to adore;Yusuf and Zulaihha.	549
II have served thee devoutly from youth's early day; But the gem of my sight has been taken away. Cast a pitying look on my ruin ; restore The light of mine eyes that I sorrow no more. Between Yusuf and me must there still be a bar ? Oh, let me but see him — one look from afar. This prayer — thou art mighty; this one wish fulfil; Give this, and then deal with me after thy will. What is life to a wretch who must hopelessly pine ? Far better were death than a life like mine." Thus cried Zulaikha. She laid down her head, And wet was the ground with the tears she shed.
To his throne in the east rose the Lord of Day, And the steed of Yusuf was heard to neigh. She came from her cottage in beggar's weed To the narrowest turn in the way of the steed, With raised hand acted the mendicant's part, And made a low moan from the ground of her heart. Before their master, the horsemen's cry, " Make room, make room !" went up to the sky; And the tread and tramp of the mighty throng, And the neighing of steeds as they moved along, Smote on each ear, and no eye was turned To the spot where Zulaikha sat undiscerned. He looked not on her; she rose forlorn, In a hundred pieces her heart was torn. Her broken spirit sent out a cry, And a flame came forth in each burning sigh. To her house of woe she returned distraught, And a hundred flames for each reed she brought.m	—
550
Jcimi.
She placed before her the idol of stone, And to lighten her sorrow thus made her moan : " O thou who hast broken mine honor's urn, Thou stone of offence wheresoever I turn, I should smite—for thy falsehood has ruined my rest— With the stone thou art made of, the heart in my breast. The way of misfortune too surely I trod When I bowed down before thee and made thee my god;
When I looked up to thee with wet eyes in my woe, I renounced all the bliss which both worlds can bestow. From thy stony dominion my soul will I free, And thus shatter the gem of thy power and thee." With a hard flint stone, like the Friend,1 as she spoke,
In a thousand pieces the image she broke.
Riven and shattered the idol fell,
And with her from that moment shall all be well.
She made her ablution, mid penitent sighs,
With the blood of her heart and the tears of her eyes.
She bent down her head to the dust; with a moan
She made supplication to God's pure throne : —
"" O God, who lovest the humble, Thou
To whom idols, their makers, their servants bow;
'Tis to the light which Thy splendor lends
To the idol's face that its worshipper bends.
Thy love the heart of the sculptor stirs,
And the idol is graven for worshippers.
1 Abraham, the Friend of God, broke the images which his father and his people worshipped.
Yusuf and Zulaihba.	551
IThey bow them down to the image, and think That they worship Thee as before it they sink. To myself, O Lord, I have done this wrong, If mine eyes to an idol have turned so long. I have erred and strayed; let repentance win Forgiveness, Good Lord, for my grievous sin. Because I have wandered, nor heeded Thy right, From mine eyes Thou hast taken the jewel of sight. Thou hast washed the dark stain of my sin away : Now restore the lost blessing for which I pray. May I feel my heart free from the brand o'f its woes, And cull from the garden of Yusuf a rose."
As Yusuf home to his palace hied, Again by the way stood Zulaikha and cried : " Glory to God ! to a monarch's state He has lifted the poor and cast down the great. He has cast the king from his glory down, And set on the head of a servant his crown."
When Yusuf the voice of Zulaikha heard, His heart in his bosom was strangely stirred. He cried to a lord : " As I hear her speak My spirit sinks and my heart grows weak. Who is the beadswoman ? Bid her appear In my council-chamber that I may hear From her lips the tale of her life, and know Her share of fortune, her dole of woe. For the words of praise which mine ears have caught On my troubled spirit have strongly wrought. By some grievous woe is her heart down-weighed. Or why should my soul be so touched and swayed ? "
552
J ami.
Two hundred souls, to the king who can note The truth of each sigh and each glance, I devote; Whose eye can discern the light of the true From the false look of those who deceive when they sue ; Who honor and punishment justly can mete To the true light of dawn and the liar's deceit; Not like the princes whose judgment, for gold, In our evil days may be bought and sold. Each tyrant with cheeks like a guinea in hue Makes a hundred wretches his mystery rue. Gold brings the flush of delight to the cheek; But justice from gold it were idle to seek.
Youth Restored.
For what sweeter joy can a lover yearn Than to love his love and be loved in return; To bear to her bower his burden of woes, And find the sweet comfort which love bestows; To tell the dear hopes of his heart and repeat The tales of old time at his darling's feet?
When Yusuf, freed from the pomp and din, Had sought his chamber and entered in, A chamberlain cried at the door: " O best Of princes, famous from east to west, That ancient woman in beggar's weed, Who laid her hand on the rein of thy steed, Whom by thine order I bade appear This day in thy presence, is waiting here." " Go, hear her petition," thus Yusuf replied,
JB

Yusuf and Zulaikha.
553
" Is she poor and in want, for her need provide." " She is not," said the chamberlain, " one of those Who will tell me the tale of her need and woes."
" Admit her," said Yusuf, " that, face to face, She may lift the veil of her mournful case."
Zulaikha came in, when permission was won, As free as the motes in the light of the sun. Like a bud she expanded : the lips that were pale Smiled bright as a rose, and she bade him hail. He asked her her name and her home, the while He marvelled much at that joyous smile.
" I am she who chose thee," she cried; " and thou, Since that one first glance, hast been loved till now; To whom, bought with my wealth, I devoted the whole
True love of my heart and my mind and my soul. I cast for thy sake my young life to the wind, And age has come o'er me and youth declined. Thine arms for a consort this realm have embraced, And I am unpitied, forgotten, disgraced."
From his eye the big tears of compassion fell As he heard the tale he remembered so well. " Zulaikha," he said, " what unhappy fate Has brought thee down to thy low estate?"
When she heard her beloved her name express, Zulaikha fell prostrate, Zulaikhaless. The wine of unconsciousness boiled in her heart, And the sense from her body was riven apart. Then thus began Yusuf, as slowly at length Zulaikha recovered her senses and strength :
" Where is thy youth, and thy beauty, and pride? " " Gone, since I parted from thee," she replied. " Where is the light of thine eye ? " said he, " Drowned in blood-tears for the loss of thee." " Why is that cypress tree bowed and bent? " " By absence from thee and my long lament." " Where is thy pearl, and thy silver and gold, And the diadem bright on thy head of old?" "She who spoke of my loved one," she answered, " shed,
In the praise of thy beauty, rare pearls on my head. In return for those jewels, a recompense meet, I scattered my jewels and gold at her feet. A crown of pure gold on her forehead I set, And the dust that she trod was my coronet. The stream of my treasure of gold ran dry; My heart is love's storehouse, and I am I."
Again spoke Yusuf: " Zulaikha, say, What is the wish of thy heart to-day?" " My prayer," she answered, " wilt thou refuse; But no help save thine can I wish or choose. And if with an oath thou wilt pledge thy word, To utter that prayer shall my tongue be stirred. If not, in silence my lips I close, And give my soul back to my life of woes."
" By the truth of that Father1 who reared of yore The temple of prophecy," thus he swore ; " To whom a tulip bloomed forth in the flame, And from heaven a robe of high honor came;
1 Abraham.Yusuf and Zulaikba.
Whatever thy will be this day, I vow —
If I have but the power — I will grant it now."
" First, my beauty," she cried, " and my youth restore
In the pride and splendor thou knewest before; Then add the gift of new sight to those, To see thee and cull from thy cheek a rose."
He moved his lips and his prayer began While the healing stream from his pure mouth ran. The beauty returned which was ruined and dead, And her cheek gained the splendor which long had
Again shone the waters1 which sad years had dried, And the rose-bed of youth bloomed again in its pride. The musk was restored and the camphor withdrawn, And the black night followed the gray of the dawn. The cypress rose stately and tall as of old : The pure silver was free from all wrinkle and fold. From each musky tress fled the traces of white : To the black narcissus came beauty and light. The halo of youth round her age was seen: For the forty-years' dame stood a girl of eighteen; Yes, fairer and brighter in loveliness stood Than in days of her ripening maidenhood,
Again said Yusuf: " O thou most fair, If a wish now be left thee, that wish declare."
"The one sole wish of my heart," she replied, " Is still to be near thee, to sit by thy side;
1 Ab, in Persian, means both water and splendor.To have thee by day in my happy sight, And to lay my cheek on thy foot at night; To lie in the shade of the cypress and sip The sugar that lies on thy ruby lip; To my wounded heart this soft balm to lay: For naught beyond this can I wish or pray. The streams of thy love will new life bestow On the dry thirsty field where its sweet waters flow,
When Yusuf the prayer of Zulaikha had heard, He bowed down his head and he spoke no word, To the world unseen were his eyes turned away, And he gave her no answer of Yea or Nay. Then a sound on his ear, as he doubted, fell, And he knew 'twas the wing-beat of Gabriel. Thus spoke the Angel: " To thee, O king, From the Lord Almighty a message I bring. ' Mine eyes have seen her in humble mood; 1 heard her prayer when to thee she sued. At the sight of her labors, her prayers, and sighs, The waves of the sea of My pity rise. Her soul from the sword of despair I free, And here from My throne I betroth her to thee.'"iK > <M>	-i :<£> -K?-*' < < £
53
NOTES.
ODE I.
i. A black mole is to the Persians a great mark of beauty.
3. The Luli or gypsies, as they were contemptuously called, were a people of the tribe of Keredj, of Indian origin, who inhabited the country between Shiraz and Isfahan. Their young men and maidens were famous for their beauty and musical accomplishments.
6. Joseph's separation from his father stands for the parting of lovers.
ODE II.
4. The glass of Alexander, sometimes a mirror, sometimes a bowl, is identical with the cup of jam, or jamshid, which plays so large a part in Persian imagery. This magic glass reflected in its surface all that was passing on the earth; by its aid Alexander was able to foresee all the movements of Darius, and so to conquer him. Alle-gorically the glass of Alexander, or bowl of jamshid, means the intuition into the truth of the universe gained by union with the Godhead through the ecstasy of intoxication, literal or mystical.
7. The morning draught, the cure for " hot coppers," is the sign of an abandoned toper. The bulbul sings all night through to keep the frequenters of the tavern awake in readiness to drink at dawn.
9.	It was Mohammed himself who called the wine the "dam of abominations." The saying is here attributed to the anonymous "Sufi" only from obvious motives of piety — or policy.
10.	Kurun, the Korah of the Bible, is the Mohammedan Croesus. The Koran says that the keys alone of his treasure-houses made burdens for several men.
11.	Hafiz has been appointed from the creation of the world to be a wine-drinker, and this must be his excuse before orthodox teachers for whom abstinence has been foreordained.
557
558
Notes.
ODE III.
4.	Here the Hostel of Two Doors is life, with its gates of birth and death. Khayyam's thought, rendered by Fitzgerald, is, " this battered Caravanserai, whose portals are alternate Night and Day."
5.	The " vow of Alast" is the eternal compact which binds man to obedience to his Maker; and the day of Alast is the day of creation.
7. Solomon was blessed with three privileges among others: he could ride on the wind, he knew the language of birds, and he had for his Grand Vizir the sage Asaph, Asaph of the psalms, famous for his wise conduct of the kingdom through the troublous time when Solomon's seal, to which he owed his superhuman powers, was in the possession of Sakler the Genie, who had stolen it, through the carelessness of Asaph himself.
ODE IV.
5. The Mohammedans say that Abraham's father was named Azar, which in Persian means " fire," and that he was a maker of idols, and hence idolatry and fire-worship were the prevalent religions of that time. Nimrod, the king of the day, caused Abraham to be cast into a great fire which was miraculously turned into a rose garden. Hence the fire of Nimrod which enflames the tulip.
ODE VI.
This ode, so Anacreontic in form and spirit, was written on the occasion of one of the periodical edicts which enforced the laws against wine-drinking,
ODE VII.
8. The " Angel Guard" is the mythical Khizr, the " Green Old Man." See note XXIX.
ODE VIII.
Hafiz wrote this ode during his visit at Yezd on the Sultan's invitation. This is said to be his only long journey away from Shiraz. Besides homesickness he suffered from niggardly treatment. 3. The Protector is Khizr, the Angel Guard of VII.
cfo f

Notes.
559
7. This couplet illustrates a curious conceit, much used in Persian poetry — the introduction of the elements in rhetorical relation. Three out of the four are brought in here, air, water, and earth; and the lines thus possess an elegance which the uninstructed Occidental would never suspect.
9. Zuhra is the planet Venus, the Anahita or Uahid of the old Persian mythology, and the lute-player of the heavens.
ODE XXIV.
3. The Persians describe the dimple in the chin of their mistress as a dangerous well filled with her lover's tears, into which, when he approaches her mouth, he may fall and be drowned.
6. " Oh rose, tearing thy robe in two": that is, bursting into flower beneath the warm breath of the wind that blows from where thou art.
ODE XXV.
1. This poem is addressed to the Vizir of Sultan Oweis of Baghdad, Hadji Kawameddin, who founded a college for Hafiz in Shiraz. With true Persian exaggeration the poet must needs write to his patron much in the same terms in which a lover would wrile to his mistress; but his words, though they sound strangely to our ears, are nothing more than the Oriental way of saying, " Awake, my St. John ! "
The mystical interpretation of the first few lines is said to be: As the wine glows in the cup like the reflection of a ruddy cheek, so in the goblet of my heart I have seen the reflection of God, the true Beloved.
6. It is related that upon a certain occasion, when Hafiz was feasting with the Vizir in the latter's garden, a servant handed to him a goblet of wine, and as he took it he saw in it the reflection of the crescent moon overhead. The incident suggested this verse to him. I should say that the anecdote was of doubtful authenticity.
ODE XXVI.
1. Hafiz wrote this poem upon the death of his son.
3. Rosenzweig, in his edition of the Divan, says that the allusion is to the dust and water which God kneaded into the body of Adam, and that, out of derision, Hafiz calls the human body a house of joy.
§
S]
560
Notes.
The moon, according to Persian superstition, has a baneful influence upon human life.
4. Rosenzweig says that "I had not castled" means that Hafiz had not taken the precaution of marrying his son, and so securing for himself grandchildren who would have been a consolation to him on their father's death. For that reason he had nothing more to lose, and was indifferent as to what his next move in the game should be.
ODE XXVII.
3.	" Night is with child" — a Persian proverb extraordinarily suggestive of the clear, deep, Eastern sky. The sight seems to slip through between the stars and penetrate a darkness which is big with possibilities.
ODE XXVIII.
Sidrah and Tuba are two trees in the Garden of Paradise. The former is the abode of the angel Gabriel. Concerning the latter Sale says: "They fable that it stands in the palace of Mohammed, though a branch of it will reach to the house of every true believer; that it will be laden with pomegranates, grapes, dates, and other fruits of surprising bigness, and of tastes unknown to mortals. So that if a man desire to eat of any particular kind of fruit, it will immediately be presented to him; or if he choose flesh, birds ready dressed will be set before him, according to his wish. They add that the boughs of this tree will spontaneously bend down to the hand of the person who would gather of its fruits, and that it will supply the blessed not only with food, but also with silken garments and beasts to ride on, ready saddled and bridled and adorned with rich trappings, which will burst forth from its fruits; and that this tree is so large that a person mounted on the fleetest horse would not be able to gallop from one end of its shade to the other in a hundred years." — Introduction to the Koran.
4.	He means either facilis decensus Averni, or, more probably, that a great number of those upon whom the orthodox look askance will be found to have equal claim to reward, since the distinction between Sufi and orthodox is in fact nothing.
ODE XXIX.
1. Blue is the Persian color of mourning. Hafiz compares the weeping lovers, clad in robes of grief, to a bed of violets, and as

cfo fNotes.
561
the violets bow their heads when the wind passes over them, so they bow down when their mistress passes by with flowing curls.
3. " Erghwan," the Syringa persica or Persian lilac. In the early spring, before it comes into leaf, it is covered with buds of a beautiful reddish purple color.
" Khizr," a prophet whom the Mohammedans confound with Phineas, Elias, and St. George, saying that his soul passed by metempsychosis successively through all three. He discovered the fountain of life and drank of it, thereby making himself immortal. It is said that he guided Alexander to the same fountain, which lay in the Land of Darkness. It was he, too, for whom Moses set out to seek when he had been informed by God that A1 Khizr was wiser than he. He found him seated on a rock, at the meeting of the two seas, and followed him for a time, learning wisdom from him, as is related in the eighteenth chapter of the Koran. His name signifies Green; wherever his feet rested, the earth was covered with green herbs, and it was he from whom Hafiz took the cup of immortality.
ODE XXX.
2.	That is to say, the prayer-carpet of the orthodox Mussulman had not enough value to procure for him so much as one glass of Sufi wine. Nor was he worthy to lay his head even upon the dusty steps of the tavern — the place of instruction in Sufi doctrine.
3.	To be clothed in one color Is the Persian idiom for sincerity. He means that the single purple robe of the grape is worth more than the hypocritical garment of the dervish, all torn and patched with long journeying — in the wrong road.
ODE XXXII.
5. Shah Shudja was not always on the best of terms with Hafiz, partly because he was jealous of the latter's fame as a poet, and partly because Hafiz had been the prot6g6 of Shah Shudja's former rival, Abu Ishac. Accordingly the king looked about for some means of doing the poet an injury, nor was it long before he found what he sought. He accused Hafiz of denying the resurrection, basing the accusation upon the last couplet of this poem — the last three lines of the present translation — and cited him before the Ulema as an infidel. But Hafiz was too many for him. Before the day on which he was to answer the charge against himself, he inserted another couplet into the ode, in which he stated that the dangerous lines did not express his own opinion, but that of afll ................................... =
562
Notes.
heretical Christian. He came off with flying colors; for not only was he entirely cleared, but it was also acknowledged that he had dealt a good blow on behalf of the Mohammedan religion, since he had shown up one of the errors of the infidel.
ODE XXXIV.
3. The month of Sha'aban is the eighth month of the Arabic year. It is followed by Ramazan, during which month the Prophet decreed that from two hours before dawn until sunset nothing should pass the lips of his followers. The fast is so strictly observed, especially by the lower orders, that not only do they refrain from eating and drinking, but they will not even smoke until the sunset gun puts an end to the day's abstinence. The night, however, is passed in feasting and revelry, and the richer classes will sleep late in Ramazan and shorten the long hours that must pass before they may breakfast.
ODE XXXV.
1. The story of the creation of Adam, and of the part played in it by the angels, is told by Mohammed in the following terms: " When thy Lord said unto the angels, I am going to place a substitute on earth; they said, Wilt thou place there one who will do evil therein, and shed blood ? but we celebrate thy praise and sanctify thee. God answered, Verily 1 know that which ye know not ; and he taught Adam the names of all things, and then proposed them to the angels, and said, Declare unto me the names of these things if ye say truth. They answered, Praise be unto thee, we have no knowledge but what thou teachest us, for thou art knowing and wise. God said, O Adam, tell them their names. And when he had told them their names, God said, Did I not tell you that I know the secrets of heaven and earth, and know that which ye discover and that which ye conceal ? And when he said unto the angels, Worship Adam; they all worshipped him, except Eblis, who refused, and was puffed up with pride, and became of the number of unbelievers." — Koran, chap. ii.
Tradition has amplified and adorned this story. It is said that the three archangels, Gabriel, Michael, and Israfil, were each in turn ordered to take from the earth seven handfuls of clay of three different colors, red, white, and yellow, that God might create out of it the races of mankind. But each in tum was moved by the earth's prayer that he would not rob her of her substance, and each returned to heaven empty-handed. The fourth time God sent

cfo lbNotes.
Azrail, the angel of death, who tore the seven handfuls from the earth, but hearing her lamentations, promised her that when man ceased to live his substance should return to the earth from whence it had been taken. With the clay that Azrail brought him God moulded the figure of man, and when it was finished he left it forty days to dry. The angels came often to gaze upon it, and Eblis, kicking it with his foot, found that it rang hollow. When the figure of clay was dry, God breathed the breath of life into its nostrils, and ordered the angels to submit to the man he had created. But Eblis refused, saying that he had been created of pure fire, and would not serve a hollow mould of clay; for which reason God cast him out of Paradise. The rest of the angels acknowledged the superiority of Adam after God had made him tell them the names of all the creatures of the earth, though they had at first protested that it was not seemly that they should bow down to him, for their love for God was greater than his. It is with this legend in his mind that Hafiz speaks of the angels as standing at the tavern door, where man may enter and receive instruction in God's wisdom, but where they must knock in vain, and as moulding a wine-cup with the despised clay out of which the human body was moulded. I think he means that man himself is the vessel into which divine love and wisdom are poured; and when he says that the angels first brought him wine, he means that by their example they showed him what it was to be intoxicated by the contemplation of God.
3. " Concerning the forbidden fruit," says Sale in a note to the second chapter of the Koran, " the Mohammedans, as well as the Christians, have different opinions. Some say it was an ear of wheat, some will have it to have been a fig tree, and others a vine."
There are supposed to be seventy-two sects in Islam. Many Mohammedan writers compare them to the seventy-two branches of the family of Noah after the Babylonian confusion of tongues and the dispersal of the children of Adam.
ODE XXXVII.
1. It is related that Ghiyasuddin Purabi, who succeeded his father to the throne of Bengal in the year 1367, fell sick. During his illness he was nursed by three faithful handmaidens whose names were Cypress, Tulip, and Rose, and owing to their care he eventually recovered. The rest of the Sultan's ladies were jealous of the gratitude that the three maidens had earned from Ghiyasuddin, and nicknamed them contemptuously "the three bath women," because they had washed the king's body while he was ill. He1IZ
GSD f
Notes.
therefore determined to do them honor by commemorating their devotion in a poem, and to this end he composed the first line of a couplet, and ordered the poets of his court to complete the ode. The line ran thus: " S&ki hadis-i-sarvo gul o lAleh miravad" — Cup-bearer, a tale runs of a Cypress, a Rose, and a Tulip. But the poets were unable to perform the task to the king's satisfaction, and at length some one suggested that the line should be sent to Hafiz of Shiraz, the fame of whose great skill had reached Bengal. This was accordingly done, and Hafiz composed the ode here translated, with which the Sultan (whose taste seems to have turned toward the discursive in poetry) was much delighted. The three cups of wine are an allusion to the three maidens who washed the king's body; the parrots of India are the court poets of Ghiyasuddin, and the Persian sweetmeat is the ode that Hafiz sent to Bengal.
4. Samir. A1 Samiri belonged, say the Mohammedans, to a certain tribe among the Jews called the Samaritans, whence his name. In this the Mohammedans strangely betray their ignorance of history, for the Samaritans were not formed into a people, nor did they bear that name, until many ages later. Some say that he was a proselyte, but a hypocritical one, and originally of Kerman or some other country. His real name was Musa ibn Dhafar. He was a magician and an alchemist. Pharaoh employed him as a rival to Moses when the latter worked miracles with his hand and his staff, but A1 Samiri was unable to show wonders as great as those performed by Moses. It was he and not Aaron, according to Mohammedan tradition, who cast the golden calf. The calf was made of the ornaments of gold and silver and other materials which the Israelites had borrowed from the Egyptians; for Aaron, who commanded in his brother's absence, having ordered A1 Samiri to collect those ornaments from the people, who carried on a wicked commerce with them, and to keep them together till the return of Moses, A1 Samiri, understanding the founder's art, put them all together into a furnace, to melt them down into one mass, which came out in the form of a calf. The Israelites, accustomed to the Egyptian idolatry, paying a religious worship to this image, A1 Samiri went further, and took some dust from the footsteps of the horse of the angel Gabriel, who marched at the head of the people, and threw it into the mouth of the calf, which immediately began to low, and became animated; for such was the virtue of that dust. (Sale, Notes to second and twenty-second chapters of the Koran.) A1 Samiri is mentioned by name in the twenty-second chapter of the Koran : " A1 Samiri led them astray."