1Cademy - بخش ۵۵ - در دست از دهن باز داشتن زنان مصر و زبان طعن بر زلیخا کشیدن و به تیغ غیرت عشق دست و زبان ایشان بریدن / Section 55 - The Women of Egypt Withholding Their Hands from Their Mouths, Loosing the Tongue of Reproach Against Zulaykha, and the Sword of Loves Jealous Ardor Cutting Their Hands and Tongues

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Haft Awrang

Poem

بخش ۵۵ - در دست از دهن باز داشتن زنان مصر و زبان طعن بر زلیخا کشیدن و به تیغ غیرت عشق دست و زبان ایشان بریدن / Section 55 - The Women of Egypt Withholding Their Hands from Their Mouths, Loosing the Tongue of Reproach Against Zulaykha, and the Sword of Love's Jealous Ardor Cutting Their Hands and Tongues

Original content

نسازد عشق را کنج سلامت
خوشا رسوایی و کوی ملامت

غم عشق از ملامت تازه گردد
وز این غوغا بلند آوازه گردد

ملامت شحنه بازار عشق است
ملامت صیقل زنگار عشق است

ملامت های عشق از هر کرانه
بود کاهل تنان را تازیانه

چو باشد مرکب رهرو گران خیز
شود زان تازیانه سیر او تیز

زلیخا را چو بشکفت آن گل راز
جهانی شد به طعنش بلبل آواز

زنان مصر ازان آگاه گشتند
ملامت را حوالتگاه گشتند

به هر نیک و بدش در پی فتادند
زبان سرزنش بر وی گشادند

که شد فارغ ز هر ننگی و نامی
دلش مفتون عبرانی غلامی

چنان در مغز جانش جا گرفته ست
که دست از دین و دانش وا گرفته ست

عجب گمراهیی پیش آمد او را
که رو در بنده خویش آمد او را

عجب تر کان غلام از وی نفور است
ز دمسازی و همرازیش دور است

نه گاهی می کند در وی نگاهی
نه گامی می زند با وی به راهی

به هر جا آن رود این ایستد باز
به هر جا ایستد رفتن کند ساز

به هر جا آن کشد برقع ز رخسار
زند این از مژه بر دیده مسمار

ز هر غم کو بگرید این بخندد
هر آن در کو گشاید این ببندد

همانا پیش چشم او نکو نیست
ازان رو خاطرش را میل او نیست

گر آن دلبر گهی با ما نشستی
ز ما دیگر کجا تنها نشستی

ره ناکامی ما کم گرفتی
به ما هم کام دادی هم گرفتی

به مقبولی کسی را دسترس نیست
قبول خاطر اندر دست کس نیست

بسازیبا رخ نیکو شمایل
که سویش طبع مردم نیست مایل

بسا لولی وش شیرین کرشمه
که ریزد خون ز دل ها چشمه چشمه

زلیخا چون شنید این داستان را
فضیحت خواست آن ناراستان را

روان فرمود جشنی ساز کردند
زنان مصر را آواز کردند

چه جشنی بزمگاه خسروانه
هزارش ناز و نعمت در میانه

ز شربت های رنگارنگ صافی
چو نور از عکس در ظلمت شکافی

بلورین جام ها لبریز کرده
به مائالورد عطرآمیز کرده

ز زرین خوان زمینش مطرح خور
ز سیمین کاسه ها برجی پر اختر

به طعم و بوی خوش آن کاسه و خوان
طعامش قوت جسم و قوت جان

در او از خوردنی ها هر چه خواهی
ز مرغ آورده حاضر تا به ماهی

پی حلواش داده نیکوان وام
ز لب شکر ز دندان مغز بادام

ز تخته تخته حلواهای رنگین
بنای قصر جشنش بود شیرین

برای فرش در صحن وی افکند
هزاران خشت از پالوده قند

دهان تنگان به لب های شکرخا
نداده در دهان لوزینه را جا

چو گشته کامجو لوزینه زانها
به حشوش نام رفته بر زبانها

ز تازه میوه های تر نایاب
سبدها باغبان پر کرده از آب

نکرده هیچ نادربین تصور
کز آب آید برون زانسان سبد پر

روان هر سو کنیزان و غلامان
به خدمت همچو طاووسان خرامان

پریرویان مصری حلقه بسته
به مسندهای زرکش خوش نشسته

ز هر خوان آنچه می بایست خوردند
ز هر کار آنچه می شایست کردند

چو خوان برداشتند از پیش آنان
زلیخا شکرگویان مدح خوانان

نهاد از طبع حیلت ساز پر فن
ترنج و گزلکی بر دست هر تن

به یک کف گزلکی در کار خود تیز
به دیگر کف ترنجی شادی انگیز

ترنجی رنگ آن صفراء فاقع
پی صفراییان درمان نافع

بدیشان گفت پس کای نازنینان
به بزم نیکویی بالانشینان

چرا دارید ازینسان تلخ کامم
به طعن عشق عبرانی غلامم

اگر دیده ز وی پر نور دارید
به دیدارش مرا معذور دارید

اجازت گر بود آرم برونش
بدین اندیشه کردم رهنمونش

همه گفتند کز هر گفت و گویی
به جز وی نیست ما را آرزویی

بفرما تا برون آید خرامان
کشد بر فرق ما از ناز دامان

که ما از جان و دل مشتاق اوییم
رخش نادیده از عشاق اوییم

ترنجی کز تو اکنون بر کف ماست
پی صفراییان داروی صفراست

بریدن بی رخش نیکو نیاید
نمی برد کسی تا او نیاید

زلیخا دایه را سویش فرستاد
که بگذر سوی ما ای سرو آزاد

برون نه پا که در پای تو افتیم
به پیش قد رعنای تو افتیم

بود غمخانه دل تکیه گاهت
بیا تا دیده گردد فرش راهت

به قول دایه یوسف در نیامد
چو گل ز افسون او خوش برنیامد

به پای خود زلیخا سوی او شد
در آن کاشانه همزانوی او شد

به زاری گفت کای نور دو دیده
تمنای دل محنت رسیده

ز خود کردی نخست امیدوارم
به نومیدی فتاد آخر قرارم

فتادم در زبان مردم از تو
شدم رسوا میان مردم از تو

گرفتم آنکه در چشم تو خوارم
به نزدیک تو بس بی اعتبارم

مده زین خواری و بی اعتباری
ز خاتونان مصرم شرمساری

دل ریشم نمکخوار لب توست
نمکریزی بر او کار لب توست

مده ره در وفاداریم شک را
نگه می دار حق این نمک را

شد از افسون آن افسونگر گرم
دل یوسف به بیرون آمدن نرم

پی تزیین او چون باد برخاست
چو سرو از حله سبزش بیاراست

فرو آویخت گیسوی معنبر
به پیش حله اش چون عنبر تر

تو پنداری که بود از مشک ماری
کشیده خویش را در سبزه زاری

میانش را که با مو همبری کرد
ز زرین منطقه زیورگری کرد

ز چندان گوهر و لعل گرانسنگ
عجب دارم که نامد آن میان تنگ

به سر تاج مرصع از جواهر
ز هر جوهر هزارش لطف ظاهر

به پا نعلین از لعل و گهر پر
بر او بسته دوال از رشته در

ردایی از قصب کرده حمایل
به هر تارش گره صد جان و صد دل

به دستش داد زرین آفتابه
کنیزی از پیش زرکش عصابه

یکی طشتش به کف از نقره خام
به سان سایه او را گام بر گام

بدانسان هر که دیدش چابک و چست
نخست از جان شیرین دست خود شست

نیارم بیش ازین گفتن که چون بود
که از هر وصف کاندیشم برون بود

ز خلوتخانه آن گنج نهفته
برون آمد چو گلزار شگفته

زنان مصر کان گلزار دیدند
ز گلزارش گل دیدار چیدند

به یک دیدار کار از دستشان رفت
زمام اختیار از دستشان رفت

ز زیبا شکل او حیران بماندند
ز حیرت چون تن بی جان بماندند

چو هر یک را در آن دیدار دیدن
تمنا شد ترنج خود بریدن

ندانسته ترنج از دست خود باز
ز دست خود بریدن کرد آغاز

یکی از تیغ انگشتان قلم کرد
بدان حرف وفای او رقم کرد

قلم دیدی که با تیغ ار ستیزد
ز هر بندش برون شنگرف ریزد

یکی پر ساخت کف از صفحه سیم
کشیدش جدول از سرخی چو تقویم

به هر جدول روانه سیلی از خون
ز حد خود نهاده پای بیرون

چو دیدندش که جز والا گهر نیست
برآمد بانگ زیشان کین بشر نیست

نه چون آدم ز آب و گل سرشته ست
ز بالا آمده قدسی فرشته ست

زلیخا گفت هست این آن یگانه
کز اویم سرزنش ها را نشانه

ملامت کز شما بر جان من بود
همه از عشق این نازک بدن بود

مراد جان و تن من خواندم او را
به وصل خویشتن من خواندم او را

ولی او سر به کارم در نیاورد
امید روزگارم بر نیاورد

اگر ننهد به کام من دگر پای
ازین پس کنج زندان سازمش جای

رسد کارش در آن زندان به خواری
گذارد عمر در محنت گذاری

ز زندان خوی سرکش نرم گردد
دلش در نیکخویی گرم گردد

نگردد مرغ وحشی جز بدان رام
که گیرد در قفس یکچند آرام

گروهی زان زنان کف بریده
ز عقل و صبر و هوش و دل رمیده

ز تیغ عشق یوسف جان نبردند
ازان مجلس نرفته جان سپردند

گروهی از خرد بیگانه گشتند
ز عشق آن پری دیوانه گشتند

برهنه پای و سر بیرون دویدند
دگر روی خردمندی ندیدند

گروهی آمدند آخر به خود باز
ولی با سوز و درد عشق دمساز

زلیخاوار مست از جام یوسف
فتاده مرغ دل در دام یوسف

جمال یوسف آمد خمی از می
به قدر خود نصیب هر کس از وی

یکی را بهره مخموری و مستی
یکی را رستن از پندار هستی

یکی را جان فشاندن بر جمالش
یکی را لال ماندن در خیالش

نباید جز بر آن بی بهره بخشود
کزان می بهره اش بی بهرگی بود

English translation

Love does not abide in the corner of safety; Blessed are disgrace and the lane of blame. The sorrow of love is renewed by reproach, And through this uproar its fame grows loud. Blame is the constable of love's marketplace; Blame is the polisher of love's rust. The reproaches of love from every side Are a whip for the indolent. When the wayfarer's mount is slow to rise, That whip makes its pace swift.

When the flower of Zulaykha's secret blossomed, A whole world became a nightingale singing reproach against her. The women of Egypt learned of it And became the destination to which blame was consigned. They pursued her every good and evil deed And opened their tongues in condemnation of her:

She has cast aside every shame and reputation; Her heart is infatuated with a Hebrew slave. He has taken such a place within the core of her soul That she has relinquished religion and wisdom. What astonishing error has overtaken her, That she has turned toward her own servant! More astonishing still, that slave recoils from her And keeps far from her company and confidence. He never casts a glance at her, Nor takes a step beside her. Wherever she goes, he remains behind; Wherever she stands, he prepares to leave. Wherever she lifts the veil from her face, He drives the nails of his lashes into his eyes. At every grief that makes her weep, he laughs; Every door she opens, he closes. Surely she is not beautiful in his eyes, And therefore his heart feels no desire for her. If that beloved were sometimes to sit with us, How could he ever again sit alone apart from us? He would tread our path of frustration less often, And would both grant us our desire and take his own. No one has control over being accepted; The heart's acceptance lies in no one's hands. Many possess a lovely face and handsome form Toward whom human nature feels no inclination. And many a gypsy-like beauty of sweet coquetry Makes blood stream from hearts, spring upon spring.

When Zulaykha heard this account, She resolved to disgrace those insincere women. At once she ordered a feast prepared And summoned the women of Egypt. What a feast—a banquet fit for kings, With a thousand delights and luxuries arrayed within! Clear, many-colored sherbets Whose reflected light pierced darkness like radiance; Crystal cups filled to their brims And perfumed with rosewater; Its floor, beneath golden tables, a field of sunlight, And silver bowls like a constellation filled with stars. With such pleasing taste and fragrance were bowl and table That their food nourished both body and soul. Every food one could desire was there, From fowl to fish, all made ready. For its sweetmeats, the beauties had furnished a loan: Sugar from their lips and almond kernels from their teeth. Slab upon slab of colorful confections Made the edifice of the festive palace sweet. As paving across its courtyard they spread Thousands of bricks made from sugared pudding. The narrow-mouthed beauties with sugar-chewing lips Left no room within their mouths for almond pastries. When the pastries sought satisfaction from them, The name of their filling passed onto their tongues. With fresh and rare succulent fruits, The gardener had filled baskets as though with water. No connoisseur of wonders had ever imagined That a basket could emerge from water so full. Everywhere maidservants and young slaves moved, Strutting in service like peacocks. The fair-faced Egyptian women formed a circle, Seated pleasantly upon gold-brocaded couches. From every table they ate whatever was fitting, And performed every customary observance.

When the tables were removed from before them, Zulaykha, offering thanks and reciting praises, Through her ingenious, artful disposition Placed a citron and a knife in every hand: In one palm, a knife sharpened for its task; In the other, a joy-inspiring citron, A citron whose color was brilliant yellow, A beneficial remedy for those afflicted by yellow bile. Then she said to them: O lovely ones, Exalted guests at the banquet of beauty, Why do you make my palate so bitter By reproaching my love for a Hebrew slave? If your eyes should become filled with his light, You would excuse me on beholding him. If you permit, I shall bring him forth; With this thought I guided him here. They all replied: Of everything that might be said, We desire nothing but him. Command him to come striding forth And sweep his robe of coquetry over our heads. For we yearn for him with heart and soul; Without seeing his face, we are already his lovers. The citron you have now placed in our hands Is medicine for those afflicted by yellow bile. It would not be right to cut it without his fair face; No one will cut until he comes.

Zulaykha sent the nurse to him, saying: Come toward us, O free and stately cypress. Step outside, that we may fall at your feet And prostrate ourselves before your graceful stature. The sorrowing heart shall be your resting place; Come, that our eyes may become the carpet beneath your path. At the nurse's words Joseph did not come; Like a flower, he did not bloom happily through her enchantment. Zulaykha herself went to him And sat beside him in that chamber. Pleading, she said: O light of my two eyes, Desire of this affliction-stricken heart, At first you made me hopeful through yourself, But in the end my lot became despair. Because of you I have fallen upon people's tongues; Because of you I have been disgraced among the people. Granted that I am contemptible in your eyes And of little worth in your presence, Do not, through this contempt and worthlessness, Make me ashamed before the ladies of Egypt. My wounded heart has eaten the salt of your lips; It is the duty of your lips to scatter salt upon it. Let no doubt enter concerning my fidelity; Honor the obligation created by this salt.

Through the warm enchantment of that enchantress, Joseph's heart softened toward coming forth. To adorn him, she rose as swiftly as the wind And dressed him like a cypress in a green robe. She let his ambergris-scented hair hang down Before his robe like moist ambergris. You would think it was a serpent made of musk Stretched out across a meadow. Around his waist, which rivaled a hair in slenderness, She fashioned an ornament from a golden belt. Considering so many weighty pearls and rubies, I marvel that his narrow waist did not suffer. Upon his head was a crown studded with jewels, A thousand graces shining from every gem. Upon his feet were sandals filled with rubies and pearls, Their straps fastened with strings of pearls. A robe of fine linen hung across his shoulder, A hundred lives and a hundred hearts knotted to every thread. She placed a golden ewer in his hand; Before him walked a maid with a gold-brocaded headband, Holding in her hand a basin of pure silver And following him step by step like a shadow. Whoever saw him thus, graceful and agile, First washed his hands of his own sweet life. I dare say no more of what he was like, For he surpassed every description I can conceive. From the private chamber that hidden treasure Came forth like a garden bursting into bloom.

When the women of Egypt beheld that rose garden, They plucked the flower of vision from his garden. At a single sight, control slipped from their hands; The reins of choice fell from their grasp. They remained bewildered by his beautiful form, And in astonishment became like lifeless bodies. As each of them, amid that vision, Desired to cut her citron, Unaware, she left the citron and instead Began cutting her own hand. One made a pen of her fingers with the blade And inscribed with it the letters of fidelity to him. Have you seen how, when a pen contests a sword, Vermilion pours from every joint? Another made her palm into a sheet of silver And ruled it like a calendar with lines of red. Through every ruled line flowed a torrent of blood, Stepping beyond its proper bounds. When they saw that he was nothing but a jewel of the highest order, Their cry arose: This is no mortal! He is not fashioned like Adam from water and clay; He is a holy angel descended from above!

Zulaykha said: This is that unique one Because of whom I became the target of your reproaches. All the blame you laid upon my soul Was for my love of this delicate-bodied one. I called him the desire of my soul and body; I invited him to union with me. But he paid no heed to my affair And did not fulfill the hope of my life. If he does not henceforth submit to my desire, I shall make a prison cell his dwelling. His condition in that prison will descend into humiliation, And he will spend his life enduring affliction. In prison his rebellious nature will grow gentle, And his heart will become inclined toward good conduct. A wild bird is tamed only in this way: By resting for a time within a cage.

A group of those women, their palms cut, Were driven from reason, patience, sense, and heart. They did not survive the sword of Joseph's love; Before leaving that gathering, they surrendered their lives. Another group became strangers to reason And were driven mad by love of that fairy-like one. Barefoot and bareheaded, they rushed outside And never again saw the face of wisdom. Another group eventually returned to themselves, But remained companions of love's burning pain. Like Zulaykha, they were drunk from Joseph's cup; The bird of their hearts had fallen into Joseph's snare.

Joseph's beauty was a vat of wine; Each person received from it according to her capacity. One received languor and intoxication, Another deliverance from the illusion of selfhood; One scattered her soul before his beauty, Another remained speechless in imagining him. Pity is due only to that person left without a share, Whose portion of that wine was deprivation itself.

Updated 2026-07-18

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Ganjoor

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