1Cademy - دفتر سوم - بخش ۱۴۲ - مخصوص بودن یعقوب علیه السلام به چشیدن جام حق از روی یوسف و کشیدن بوی حق از بوی یوسف و حرمان برادران و غیر هم ازین هر دو / Book Three — Section 142 — The Particularity of Jacob (peace be upon him) in Tasting the Cup of the Real from the Face of Joseph, and Drawing the Scent of the Real from the Scent of Joseph, and the Deprivation of the Brothers and Others from Both of These

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مثنوی معنوی: دفتر سوم / Masnavi: Book Three

Poem

دفتر سوم - بخش ۱۴۲ - مخصوص بودن یعقوب علیه السلام به چشیدن جام حق از روی یوسف و کشیدن بوی حق از بوی یوسف و حرمان برادران و غیر هم ازین هر دو / Book Three — Section 142 — The Particularity of Jacob (peace be upon him) in Tasting the Cup of the Real from the Face of Joseph, and Drawing the Scent of the Real from the Scent of Joseph, and the Deprivation of the Brothers and Others from Both of These

Original content

آنچ یعقوب از رخ یوسف بدید
خاص او بد آن به اخوان کی رسید

این ز عشقش خویش در چه می کند
و آن بکین از بهر او چه می کند

سفرهٔ او پیش این از نان تهیست
پیش یعقوبست پر کو مشتهیست

روی ناشسته نبیند روی حور
لا صلوة گفت الا بالطهور

عشق باشد لوت و پوت جانها
جوع ازین رویست قوت جانها

جوع یوسف بود آن یعقوب را
بوی نانش می رسید از دور جا

آنک بستد پیرهن را می شتافت
بوی پیراهان یوسف می نیافت

و آنک صد فرسنگ زان سو بود او
چونک بد یعقوب می بویید بو

ای بسا عالم ز دانش بی نصیب
حافظ علمست آنکس نه حبیب

مستمع از وی همی یابد مشام
گرچه باشد مستمع از جنس عام

زانک پیراهان بدستش عاریه ست
چون بدست آن نخاسی جاریه ست

جاریه پیش نخاسی سرسریست
در کف او از برای مشتریست

قسمت حقست روزی دادنی
هر یکی را سوی دیگر راه نی

یک خیال نیک باغ آن شده
یک خیال زشت راه این زده

آن خدایی کز خیالی باغ ساخت
وز خیالی دوزخ و جای گداخت

پس کی داند راه گلشنهای او
پس کی داند جای گلخنهای او

دیدبان دل نبیند در مجال
کز کدامین رکن جان آید خیال

گر بدیدی مطلعش را ز احتیال
بند کردی راه هر ناخوش خیال

کی رسد جاسوس را آنجا قدم
که بود مرصاد و در بند عدم

دامن فضلش بکف کن کوروار
قبض اعمی این بود ای شهره یار

دامن او امر و فرمان ویست
نیکبختی که تقی جان ویست

آن یکی در مرغزار و جوی آب
و آن یکی پهلوی او اندر عذاب

او عجب مانده که ذوق این ز چیست
و آن عجب مانده که این در حبس کیست

هین چرا خشکی که اینجا چشمه هاست
هین چرا زردی که اینجا صد دواست

همنشینا هین در آ اندر چمن
گوید ای جان من نیارم آمدن

English translation

What Jacob saw in the face of Joseph was particular to him — when did it reach the brothers? This one, out of love for him, casts himself into the pit, and that one, out of hatred — what does he do because of him? Before this one, his spread is empty of bread; before Jacob it is full, for he is the one who has appetite. The unwashed face does not behold the face of the houris; he said: "No prayer except with purity (ṭahūr)." Love is the feast and sustenance of souls; hunger, from this perspective, is the nourishment of souls. The hunger for Joseph was that nourishment for Jacob; the scent of his bread reached him from afar. He who took the shirt was hastening, yet could not find the scent of Joseph's shirt. And he who was a hundred farsakhs away on that far side — being Jacob — sniffed out the scent. O, how many a scholar is deprived of true knowledge; that person is a custodian of knowledge, not a beloved (ḥabīb). The listener still finds the scent from him, even if the listener is of the common sort. For the shirt is in his hand on loan, as the slave-girl is in the hand of that slave-merchant. The slave-girl before the slave-merchant is passing, in his hand she is for the buyer. The allotment is the Real's (Ḥaqq's) sustenance, destined to be given; for each one, there is no road toward another's. One fair imagination has become a garden for that one, one foul imagination has blocked the path for this one. That God who from one imagination made a garden, and from another imagination made hell and a place of melting — who, then, can know the path to His rose-gardens? Who, then, can know the place of His furnaces? The sentinel of the heart cannot see in the interval from which corner of the soul imagination arrives. If he could see its rising-point through cunning, he would block the path of every unpleasant imagination. When can the spy's foot reach that place which is the watchtower, held in the grip of non-existence? Take hold of the hem of His grace like a blind man; this is the blind man's grasp, O renowned one. His hem is His command and His decree; happy is he whose soul is taqwā. One is in the meadow with running water, and another, beside him, is in torment. He is left wondering: what is the delight of this one? And that one is left wondering: in whose prison is this one? Heed! Why are you parched when here are springs? Heed! Why are you pallid when here are a hundred cures? O companion, heed — come into the meadow! He says: O my soul (jān), I cannot come.

Updated 2026-06-30

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