1Cademy - بخش ۵۹ - بی طاقت شدن زلیخا در مفارقت یوسف علیه السلام و در شب همراه دایه به زندان رفتن و مشاهده جمال وی کردن / Section 59 - Zulaykha Losing Patience in Separation from Joseph, Peace Be Upon Him, Going to the Prison at Night with the Nurse, and Beholding His Beauty

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بخش ۵۹ - بی طاقت شدن زلیخا در مفارقت یوسف علیه السلام و در شب همراه دایه به زندان رفتن و مشاهده جمال وی کردن / Section 59 - Zulaykha Losing Patience in Separation from Joseph, Peace Be Upon Him, Going to the Prison at Night with the Nurse, and Beholding His Beauty

Original content

چو در زندان مغرب یوسف مهر
نهان کرد از زلیخای فلک چهر

زلیخای فلک را چهره شد گم
ز مهر یوسف اندر اشک انجم

زلیخا را غم یوسف چنان کرد
که از اشک شفق گون خونفشان کرد

شفق را شد ز اشک او جگر خون
وز آن خون دامن گردون جگرگون

به گریه ناله جانسوز برداشت
همان آه و فغان روز برداشت

چو روی اندر شب آرد روز عاشق
به شب گردد فزون بر سوز عاشق

ز هجران تیره باشد روزگارش
فزاید تیرگی شبهای تارش

ز غم روزش بود رو در سیاهی
شبش گردد سیاهی بر سیاهی

شب آبستن بود وان دم که آید
برای عاشقان اندوه زاید

چو آرد از مشیمه بچه بیرون
به جای شیر از دلها مکد خون

ازان مادر که برخوردار باشد
کزینسان بچه اش خونخوار باشد

زلیخا را چو از بی صبری خویش
بدین خونخوارگی آمد شبی پیش

ز دلبر دور وز دلدار مهجور
شبش بی ماه ماند و خانه بی نور

چو نبود روی جانان پرتو افکن
به صد مشعل نگردد خانه روشن

ز بس اندوه دل چشمش نمی خفت
ز دیده خون دل می راند و می گفت

ندانم حال یوسف چیست امشب
کفیل خدمت او کیست امشب

که گسترده ته پا بسترش را
که کرده راست بر بالین سرش را

چراغ افروز بالینش که بوده ست
کف راحت به بالینش که سوده ست

که بگشاده کمربند از میانش
که بوده وقت خواب افسانه خوانش

هوای آن مقامش ساخت یا نه
چو مرغ آن دام رامش ساخت یا نه

گل او همچنان بر آب خود هست
مسلسل سنبلش بر تاب خود هست

نبرده آن هوا آب و گلش را
بشولیده نکرده سنبلش را

دلش چون غنچه در تنگی فتاده
و یا چون گل به شادی لب گشاده

همی گفت اینچنین در هر لباسی
غم خود تا ز شب بگذشت پاسی

ازان پس طاقت و تابی نماندش
به دل از جوی صبر آبی نماندش

ز شوقش در دل افتاد آتش تیز
به دایه دیده پر خون گفت برخیز

که یکدم جانب زندان گراییم
به آن محنتسرا پنهان درآییم

نهان در گوشه زندان نشینیم
مه زندانی خود را ببینیم

چو زندان جای آنسان گلعذاریست
نه زندان بلکه خرم نوبهاریست

دل هر عاشق از بستان گشاید
مرا این غنچه در زندان گشاید

روان شد همچو سرو ناز و دایه
فتان خیزان به دنبالش چو سایه

به زندان چون رسید آن ماه شبگرد
نهانی میر زندان را طلب کرد

اشارت کرد تا بگشاد ره را
نمود از دور آن تابنده مه را

بدیدش بر سر سجاده از دور
چو خورشید درخشان غرقه در نور

گهی چون شمع بر پا ایستاده
ز رخ زندانیان را نور داده

گهی خم کرده قامت چون مه نو
فکنده بر بساط از چهره پرتو

گهی سر بر زمین در عذر تقصیر
چو شاخ تازه گل از باد شبگیر

گهی طرح تواضع در فکنده
نشسته چون بنفشه سر فکنده

ز خود دور و به وی نزدیک بنشست
ولی در گوشه تاریک بنشست

ز جان زاری و از دل ناله می کرد
ز نرگس یاسمین را لاله می کرد

به لؤلؤ لعل لب را می خراشید
ز نخل تر رطب را می تراشید

به چشم خونفشان و اشک گلگون
همی داد از درون این راز بیرون

که ای چشم و چراغ نازنینان
مراد خاطر اندوهگینان

به جانم آتشی افروخت عشقت
سراپای وجودم سوخت عشقت

نزد بر آتشم وصل تو آبی
به آبی از دلم ننشاند تابی

به تیغ ظلم کردی سینه ام چاک
همی بینم تو را زین ظلم بی باک

نداری رحم بر مظلومی من
زهی مرحومی و محرومی من

ز تو هر لحظه ام از نو غمی زاد
مرا ای کاشکی مادر نمی زاد

وگر می زاد مادر کاش دایه
به فرق من نمی افکند سایه

ز شیر ناب کم می داد بهرم
به شیر از قهر می آمیخت زهرم

ز حال خود بدینسان در سخن بود
ولی یوسف به حال خویشتن بود

سر مویی بدو حاضر نمی شد
وگر می شد اثر ظاهر نمی شد

چو شب بگذشت و همچون صبح خیزان
زلیخای فلک شد اشکریزان

غریو کوس سلطانی درآمد
مؤذن در سحر خوانی برآمد

دم سگ حلقه بر حلقوم او بست
دمش را از فغان شب فرو بست

خروس از خواب شب شد گردن افراز
ز نای ساز کرده تیز آواز

زلیخا دامن اندر چید و برگشت
به خدمت آستان بوسید و برگشت

به زندان تا مهش خلوت نشین بود
شد آمد سوی زندانش چنین بود

غذای جان او شد آن تک و پوی
نبودش جز در آن آمد شدن روی

نکردی کس به بستان میل چندان
که بود آن خسته دل را میل زندان

بلی آن را که زندانیست یارش
به جز زندان کجا باشد قرارش

English translation

When the Joseph-sun, in the prison of the west, Hid himself from the celestial-faced Zulaykha, The face of Zulaykha's heaven disappeared, And, for love of Joseph, dissolved into the stars' tears. Grief for Joseph so afflicted Zulaykha That she shed blood from twilight-colored tears. The twilight's heart was bloodied by her tears, And that blood stained heaven's skirt the color of a wounded heart. Weeping, she raised a soul-searing lament; She continued the same sighing and wailing all day. When an عاشق's day turns its face toward night, The عاشق's burning grows still greater at night. His days are darkened by separation, And the darkness of black nights deepens them. From grief, his day faces toward blackness; His night becomes blackness upon blackness. Night is pregnant, and when its hour arrives, It gives birth to sorrow for lovers. When it brings the child forth from the womb, Instead of milk, it sucks blood from hearts. Blessed indeed is the mother Whose child is bloodthirsty in this fashion! When, through her impatience, Such a bloodthirsty night confronted Zulaykha, Far from her beloved and parted from her darling, Her night remained moonless and her house without light. When the beloved's face casts no radiance, A hundred torches cannot brighten the house. From such anguish her eyes would not sleep; She poured her heart's blood from her eyes and said: I do not know how Joseph fares tonight; Who is charged with serving him tonight? Who has spread his bedding beneath his feet? Who has set his head straight upon the pillow? Who has lit the lamp beside his pillow? Whose palm of comfort has stroked his pillow? Who has loosened the belt from his waist? Who has told him tales at bedtime? Has the air of that place suited him or not? Has that snare tamed him like a bird or not? Does his rose retain its freshness still? Do his curling hyacinth-locks retain their wave? Has that air not diminished his water and clay? Has it not disordered his hyacinth-locks? Has his heart fallen into confinement like a bud, Or opened its lips joyfully like a rose? Thus she spoke, clothing her grief in many forms, Until a watch of the night had passed. After that, neither strength nor endurance remained in her; No water remained in her heart's stream of patience. A fierce fire of longing fell into her heart; Her eyes filled with blood, she told the nurse: Arise, So that for one moment we may turn toward the prison And secretly enter that abode of affliction. Let us sit concealed in a corner of the prison And behold my imprisoned moon. Since the prison is home to such a rose-cheeked beauty, It is no prison, but a delightful new spring. Every lover's heart opens in a garden; For me, this bud will open in the prison. She set forth like a graceful cypress, with the nurse Stumbling and rising behind her like a shadow. When that night-wandering moon reached the prison, She secretly summoned the prison governor. She signaled for him to open the way And show her that radiant moon from afar. From a distance she saw him upon his prayer rug, Like a shining sun immersed in light. At times he stood upright like a candle, Giving the prisoners light from his face. At times he bent his form like the new moon, Casting radiance from his face across the carpet. At times he placed his head upon the ground, seeking pardon for his shortcomings, Like a fresh rose branch bowed by the dawn breeze. At times he assumed the posture of humility, Sitting with bowed head like a violet. Far from herself but near to him, she sat, Yet she remained in a dark corner. She lamented with her soul and moaned from her heart; With narcissus eyes, she turned the jasmine of her face into a tulip. With pearls of tears she scratched her ruby lips; From the fresh palm, she pared away the ripe date. With blood-shedding eyes and rose-colored tears, She disclosed this secret from within: O eye and lamp of all the cherished ones, Desire of sorrowful hearts, Your love has kindled a fire in my soul; Your love has burned my whole existence. The water of union with you did not strike my fire, Nor did a drop of water calm my heart's fever. With the sword of cruelty you tore my breast apart, And I see you unafraid of this cruelty. You show no mercy toward me, the wronged one; What pity and deprivation are mine! Each moment a new grief is born to me from you; Would that my mother had never borne me! And if my mother had borne me, would that the nurse Had never cast her shadow over my head! Would that she had given me less pure milk as my share And mixed poison born of wrath into the milk! Thus she spoke about her condition, But Joseph remained absorbed in his own state. Not by a hair's breadth did he become present to her; And if he did, no sign of it appeared. When the night had passed and, like those who rise at dawn, The Zulaykha of the heavens began shedding tears, The thunder of the royal drum arose, And the muezzin began his chant at daybreak. The breath of dawn fastened ring upon ring around her throat And stopped the breath of her nightly lamentation. The rooster raised its neck from nighttime sleep And sharpened its cry upon the pipe of song. Zulaykha gathered up her skirt and returned; She kissed the threshold in devotion and returned. As long as her moon remained secluded in prison, Such was her continual coming and going to his prison. That restless journeying became nourishment for her soul; She had no inclination except toward coming and going there. No one ever desired a garden as greatly As that heartsick woman desired the prison. Indeed, when one's beloved is imprisoned, Where but the prison can one find rest?

Updated 2026-07-18

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Ganjoor

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