M6:2735 — هست تن چون ریسمان بر پای جان / می‌کشاند بر زمینش ز آسمان

Translation: The body is like a rope tied to the soul's foot, Pulling it down to earth from heaven. Meaning: This verse illustrates how the material body acts as a tether, dragging the soul, which inherently yearns for spiritual realms, back to the earthly plane and preventing its ascent to its true origin.

In this verse, Rumi masterfully illustrates the timeless struggle between the soul and the body. He posits that the "body" (tan) acts as a rope tied to the foot of the "soul" (jān), constantly pulling it, which originates from the "heavens" (āsemān) and the angelic realms, down towards "earth" (zamīn) and the material world. This is the narrative of an celestial soul trapped in the confines of an earthly body—a body that serves as a weight, or, to put it differently, as a snare that has captured the mythical bird of the soul (ʿanqā-ye rūḥ) in the dust.

I have often stated that the soul is inherently inclined towards flight; it does not belong to this world. Its true homeland is elsewhere, and for this reason, it finds itself imprisoned in the cage of the body. Indeed, the entire Mathnawi is, at its heart, a narration of this very "separation" (jodāʾī)—the soul's estrangement from its original home. We are "strangers" (gharīb) in this world, and the ultimate goal of the spiritual journey is to return to that origin. Rumi describes this journey as the "travelogue of the soul" (safarnāme-ye rūḥ), not merely a lament.

This perspective of Rumi must be contrasted with other approaches. For instance, Hafez, in one of his verses, states: "Since my vagrant heart went into the tresses of her hair, / From that long journey, it resolves not to return home." Here, Hafez finds his Kaaba in the beloved's tresses and no longer yearns for another "homeland"; it seems this very place has become his home. But for Rumi, this world is never the soul's true homeland. We are travelers, and a traveler must eventually reach their destination.

It is here that the famous prophetic tradition, "Love of homeland is part of faith" (ḥubb al-waṭan min al-īmān), acquires a deeper meaning. Sheikh Bahāʾī, himself a great mystic, interpreted this to mean that this homeland is not "Egypt, Iraq, or Syria," but rather "a city that has no name"—the soul's primordial homeland in the world of meaning. Rumi and all mystics hold the belief that we have strayed from our origin, and "Whoever remains distant from their origin, / Will seek again the day of reunion."

What follows in the tale of the mouse and the frog offers another image of this very pull: the soul, like a frog in water, traverses spiritual realms and celestial dreams in an "unconscious sleep" (khāb-e bī-hūshī). But the "mouse of the body" (mūsh-e tan), with its rope of needs and demands, pulls the soul from that realm, awakening it. This tug-of-war causes the soul to taste "several bitter experiences" (chand talkhī). Were it not for this "pull of the wheat-brained mouse" (jadhb-e mūsh-e gandum-maghz), the soul would have "reveled" (ʿaysh-hā kardī) in that ocean of life and never looked downwards. This verse vividly expresses the confining nature of the body and the free, soaring nature of the soul, which constantly yearns to return to its heavenly source.

Key takeaways

• The body acts as a rope, tethering the soul to the earthly realm and hindering its innate flight.
• The soul inherently belongs to the heavens and is inclined to ascend; the body's cage restricts its freedom.
• Rumi perceives this world as a place of exile for the soul, a traveler destined to return to its true homeland.
• Unlike some perspectives, for Rumi, this material world is never the soul's ultimate home.
• Separation from the spiritual origin is the fundamental anguish narrated in the Mathnawi, with reunion as the ultimate goal.