The Story of Yussuf & Zuleika
The Story of Yussuf and Zuleika – by the
Persian poet Jami (15th Century)
“Grandfather,
the evening is young, the moon and stars illume the sky, the air is perfumed
with jasmine and rose—so let us remain in the garden a little longer and tell
me please another story.”
“My
dear, I can think of nothing more pleasing than to linger here with you and
speak of love and wine. Do you know of the story of Yussuf and Zuleika?”
“It
is a story I’ve heard told, but stories, even old, are new when told by you.
Please, do tell me of the story of Yussuf and Zuleika.”
“My
dear, the story begins with the dream of a beautiful princess—the princess
Zuleika. In her dream she beheld a figure of such extraordinary beauty that she
was overcome with love and desire. When she awoke she could think about nothing
else but him. Her heart was restless and she prayed that night would fall
quickly and he would come to her again in her dreams. The dream was repeated
three times.”
“Zuleika,
fairer than the flowers,
Lay
tranced—for ’twas not sleep that stole her senses,
Through
the nights’ still hours,
And
raised new vision to her soul.
The
heart unfettered, free to rove,
Turned
towards the idol of her love.
“No:—for
’twas not sleep, ’twas motionless,
Unbroken
thought, repressed in vain;
The
shadow of the day’s distress,
A
frenzy of remembered pain.
“But,
’midst those pangs, what rapture still;
The
same dear form is ever there;
Those
eyes the rays of Eden fill,
And
odours of the blest distil,
From
every curl of that bright hair.”
“I
like this story, Grandfather, of the beautiful princess and her mysterious
visions—please continue.”
“Yes
my dear, and as they say, ‘When the apple is thrown into the air, it will turn
a thousand times before it comes back down.’ So years passed until one day, as
the lovely Zuleika was absorbed in her thoughts of her visionary lover, an
offer of marriage was received from the adviser to the Pharaoh of Egypt.
Convinced that he must be the one of her dreams, she immediately accepted the
offer and departed to Egypt with a huge and splendid retinue. Of course,
Zuleika could not wait to see her lover and counted the moments until he would
meet her caravan and she would finally be able to see him.”
“O
joy too great! O hour too blest! He comes—they hail him—now more near,
His
eager courser’s feet I hear.
O
heart! Be hushed within my breast,
Burst
not with rapture! Can it be?
The
idol of my life—divine, all radiant, clothed in mystery,
And
loving me as I adore him,
As
none dared ever love before,
Shall
be—nay, is—even now, is mine.”
“Hearing
his horse’s footsteps approach, Zuleika peeps through the curtain of her
litter, but is filled with unspeakable grief and dismay on seeing a totally
different person from the lovely image of her dreams.”
“Oh
my!”
“Not
he! Not he! On whom for years my soul has dwelt with sacred truth;
For
whom my life has passed in tears of longing,
And
wasted was my bloom of youth;
For
whom I breathed, and thought, and moved,
My
own, my worshipped, my beloved!
“I
hailed the night that I might gaze
Upon
his star’s unconquered blaze:
The
morn but rose that I might pray,
“Hope,
wish, expect from day to day,
My
sole existence was that thought,
And
do I wake to know ’tis nought?
Vain
tears, vain madness, vain endeavour,
Another
blasts my sight forever!”
“Grandfather,
the apple has begun to spin! Poor Zuleika, her heart is broken, what will
become of her?”
“My
dear, she hid her feeling from the world, at least at first, before love’s
persistence eventually broke the walls and turned them into dust. Zuleika was
brought to the palace and was placed on the throne.”
“A
throne the Peris might have framed,
The
sun and moon’s pale lustre shamed:
And
she, whose radiance all effaced—Zuleika—on the throne was placed.
“Sparking
with jewels, red with gold,
Her
heart shrunk, withered, crushed, and cold.”
“Yes
my dear, the apple had begun to spin—madly. Now let me tell you more of Yussuf,
whose supernatural beauty was so great, that no woman could look on him without
love. It is told, that when Yussuf first entered Zuleika’s chamber, all the
women present were cutting pomegranates for their princess, but when Yussuf
entered, they all became so lost to themselves that they began to cut their own
fingers instead of the fruit.”
“And
Grandfather, how did it come that Yussuf entered her chamber?”
“Yussuf’s
life was governed by a fate not shared with common men—veiled in divine
mystery; it had so many twists and turns. It is said, that Yussuf was always
surrounded with a celestial light. And his beauty, my dear, was not, as they say, ‘merely
skin deep,’ he was a good and kind man who, legend tells, gave the sufferers a
portion of his own food, every day when the seven year famine held Egypt in her
grip. And so it was dear Granddaughter that Yussuf was loved by many, but he
was also feared by some who felt their power threatened, and that is why he was,
one day, captured and sold into slavery—which is how he came to be in Zuleika’s
chamber.”
“Oh
my! Zuleika became his purchaser?”
“Yes,
she recognized him instantly and wanted him near her always, but consider her plight—married
to royalty, yet, in love with a slave—could she keep her secret?—and for how
long?”
“Keep
her secret from her husband?”
“Yes,
her husband—but also Yussuf—for awhile.”
“And
she told no one?”
“She
told one person, her nurse, who in an impudent moment discloses Zuleika’s
secret to Yussuf.”
“Grandfather,
what did he do?”
“Why,
my dear, he abandoned her—leaving her in an agony of despair and grief.”
“Is
this a dream?—another dream,
Like
that which stole my senses first,
Which
sparkled o’er my life’s dull stream,
By
erring fancy nursed?
“Was
it for this my life I spent in murmurs deep,
And
discontent—
Slighted,
for in this, all homage due,
From
generous faithful love withdrew?
For
this, no joy, no pomp have prized;
For
this, all honors have despised—
Left
all my soul, to passion free,
To
be thus hated—spurned—by thee?
“O
God! to see thee loathing turn,
While
on my cheek swift blushes burn;
Contempt,
abhorrence on thy brow,
Where
radiant sweetness dwelt—till now.”
“Grandfather,
I am just a young girl, but it does seem to me that Yussuf’s actions were
unbecoming.”
“My
dear, neither youth, nor age, can understand the working of divine fate. But do
remember the words of dear Hafez, ‘Praise be to God, for He never tries His
slave in vain.’”
“So,
my dear, the secret of her love revealed, Zuleika is cast out from her life of
riches and becomes a hapless beggar in the street. Still, her love for Yussuf
never wanes—her every thought is of him alone, his name speaks to her with her
every breath. Years pass; she weeps ceaselessly; her tears turn to blood;
Zuleika is blind.”
Zuleika’s
Lament:
“Your
picture in my heart will never go—though you are gone,
Your
face is a lovely moon that my soul’s eye gazes on.
The
cherished one abandoned me,
So
I too forsook myself
And
lost a throne, a king’s estate
And
both health and wealth.
“When
I was rejected and tried my best to neglect you,
This
fire inside would never permit me to do so;
Do
you know that you plundered a queen’s eyes, heart, and soul?
I
wonder what befell the other hearts you stole.
I
dreamed of loving you and all my calamities began;
Who
would believe one so lovely could be so stone-hearted?
“The
world that forgot me I forgot long ago,
You,
my endless yearning, and your name are all I know.
Yussuf,
now my heart cried out for you again and again,
Now,
at last, I am finding you in my tears and pain.
Now
the world can rightly say that Zuleika is ruined and blind,
Who
can know how she beholds her beloved in her heart and mind?” –
Nordeen and Wagner, Meherabad 1979
“And
Grandfather, does the story end here—with Zuleika in ruin? Oh, I hope not.”
“Do
not worry my dear, for as the poet said,
‘Oh
dust!
Did
you really think that your journey was over when you found the feet of your
Beloved?
You
had become helpless and hopeless,
Worthless
in every way,
But
did you think He would allow you to remain in your pathetic state?
Did
you think your Lord would breathe dust?’ – Kovitz, Meditation and Prayers on 101 Names of
God
“No
my dear, the story of Yussuf and Zuleika is not yet complete.”
“Years
passed, dear Granddaughter, and Zuleika’s love for Yussuf grew more and more
and became more and more pure. Blind, she saw only him, all the time. She lived
not in the past, not in the future, but in the eternal moment of her love. She
cared not that the only roof over her head was the firmament, the hard ground
her only bed; she cared not whether she ate or did not eat, or if people looked
at her with scorn or pity. She no longer was in the world or of the world.”
“And
Yussuf, Grandfather; what became of Yussuf?”
“Ah
Yussuf, his fortune turned; he was freed from prison—eventually he became the
grand vizir of Egypt. He was loved by all, became the beloved of all who knew
him—or, even heard of him.”
“And
so dear Grandfather, does the story end here? You quoted the poet who said that
the beloved would not breathe dust, would not allow his lover to remain dust.”
“Yes,
my dear, he would not, nor did Yussuf. The story continues:
“One
day Yussuf was out walking with a few of his close companions when they came
upon a blind beggar woman at the side of the road. Seeing her, Yussuf turned to
his companions and said, ‘look at that woman, do you know who she is?’ They all
looked at each other and shook their heads. ‘That woman is Zuleika.’ he told
them. ‘Do you not recognize her? Her love for me has led her to this state. She
has wept tears of blood for me and become blind to everything but me.’
“Yussuf
then walked over to Zuleika, kneeled and took her hand in his and then passed
his other over her eyes and restored her sight. The others saw her eyes grow
wide with wonder as she gazed at the face before her. The saw her whole countenance
change, transfigured in bliss. Yussuf stood up and gently lifted her to her
feet. Together they turned, without a word spoken between them, and he led her
back to the palace and they were never without each other again.”
“Grandfather,
the story of Yussuf and Zuleika was both sad and beautiful, but I feel that it
has meaning beyond itself—like all of the stories that you tell me.”
“You
are right dear Granddaughter; all of the great Sufi stories have multiple
meanings, depending on who the listener is. Tell me first, what do you make of
it?”
“First
I would say that the story of Yussuf and Zuleika is a love story, and as you
have reminded me so many times, ‘the tale of love must be heard from love
itself, for like the mirror, it is both mute and expressive.’ Now I am just a
young girl; I know nothing about love between a man and a woman, but am I wrong
in thinking that this story is not about that kind of love?”
“It
is, and it isn’t, because in both the dream and the reality there is only love.
Love alone prevails, and there is always continuity between all of the levels of
illusion and reality—between the deepest deep sleep and complete awakening. The
worldly minded can take from this story the lesson that love has the power to
lift oneself out of oneself, to transform one’s life, to bring both happiness
and suffering. It is also about sacrifice and suffering. Did not Meher Baba
once say that real love is not for the weak and faint-hearted? When human love
reaches its zenith, the lover loses oneself in the beloved—one forgets herself.
Zuleika sacrificed herself, her life, lost herself, lost her life and still cared
for nothing except Yussuf.”
“And
Grandfather, what of the so-called spiritually minded? What are they to take
from this story?”
“Yes,
the spiritually minded—the seeker—the wayfarer; there are many lessons…many
lessons… I will give you my interpretation of this story:
“Yussuf
was a man and Yussuf became more than a man—Yussuf became a Perfect Man—a
Perfect Master. In the beginning of the story Yussuf was already advanced on
the path. This is what accounts for his extraordinary beauty and the attraction
that all felt for him. But, though advanced, he was still in illusion; his
consciousness was still of illusion. His state was symbolized by his
imprisonment and his slavery. Yussuf was experiencing the most excruciating
state of seeing God everywhere and in everything, yet was not able to recognize
himself as God—not yet in the state of union with God.
“Now,
Zuleika saw Yussuf three times in a dream—in a vision. Yussuf was reaching out
for her from his state on the inner planes of consciousness. She too, was
reaching out for him—reaching out for God. This was not the first lifetime they
were to be together. Do you know dear Granddaughter that the Sufis have many
words for love? Some say that there are sixty-seven; some say that every word
is a word for love. Those that study the inner-science of calligraphy know that
every letter has its own meaning also. There are those who practice writing the
same letter for years and years.
“Yes,
Zuleika had courted and been courted by love for lifetimes, and as the saying
goes, ‘When her time has come, the prey finds the hunter.’ Love was her
Beloved, but love was not her only beloved, and at a certain time—when the
moment is right—the real Beloved appears and begins to destroy one by one, or
sometimes all at once, the lover’s other beloveds—the lover’s desires.
“So,
after Yussuf’s realization, symbolized in our story by his release from bondage
and his acquisition of power over the kingdoms of heaven and earth, he began
his work to make Zuleika worthy of union with him—worthy of union with God.”
“And
so he took away her riches?”
“Yes.”
“And
her sight?”
“Yes,
my dear, he took away everything—including himself.”
“And
why did he take away himself?”
“My
dear, it is a game the Beloved plays with the lover—it is a game of push and
pull—Hafez spoke of it when he said, ‘I straddle the line between the barren
desert and the cultivated fields.’ It is a state the Beloved gives to the
lover. Neither does the lover have the pains and pleasures of worldly life, nor
does she have the joys of the spiritual world.
“The
lover begins to cry out to the Beloved, ‘Neither do I have this world nor the
next, nor am I even able to see you. You hide from me and from your hiding
place you shoot arrows that pierce my heart. And you just go on shooting me,
covering me with wounds! See my pitiable state, I have nothing left except
these wounds, and so I beg you, if you do not show yourself to me, then do not
stop shooting your arrows—for they are all I have—and when I look inside my
wounds—I see you! So, please, keep shooting your arrows for I can bear
everything—except your disregard.’”
“Indeed
Grandfather, this game of love is not for the weak and fainthearted.”
“True,
but as Hafez says, ‘Praise be to God, for He never tries His slave in vain.’
And when the time is right, as it was for Zuleika, He takes her to Him, we
becomes One, and the lover has Everything—Infinitely and Eternally!”
© Copyright Michael Kovitz 2019
Labels: Embedded with the Kali Yuga, Hafez, Meher Baba, Persian Poetry, Yussuff and Zuleika by Jami