M6:3270 — ای من و صد هم‌چو من در ماه و سال / مر ترا چون نسل تو گشته عیال

Translation: O You, by whom I and a hundred like me, through months and years, have become like Your family, Your dependents. Meaning: This verse praises an exceptionally generous and steadfast patron or divine figure, under whose care countless individuals consider themselves as family and dependents.

This verse, addressed to a high-ranking individual or divine presence, expresses the pinnacle of humility and gratitude. You see, Rumi states that not only I, but a hundred like me, over months and years, have become like your ʿiyāl (family/dependents). This means we all live reliant on you, under your care and protection. The term ʿiyāl conveys a deep sense of dependence and reliance, as if we are all nurtured in your bosom.

This beyt speaks of someone whose “ceiling of spiritual ambition (himmat) never cracked” (saqf-e himmatat hargiz nakofat); meaning, the limits of their generosity and high aspiration never fail, never suffer breakage or defect. They give without measure, never regretting what they have given, nor keeping account of it. This is the ultimate benevolence, where the giver doesn't even recall "what was lost from my wealth" (az mālam che raft).

I have said this many times: Rumi sometimes employs expressions that are clearly deliberate and well-considered. He spoke and composed poetry extemporaneously in the evenings, yet certain phrases indicate that his mind was attuned to them, having refined and prepared these expressions beforehand. This praise of boundless generosity is, without doubt, one of those mature and profound themes.

Saʿdi aptly stated: "Two things are the fruit of life: a good name and merit / Beyond these two, all on it (earth) shall perish." Human survival rests on a good name and otherworldly reward. Rumi, with this verse, in a way confirms the same truth: that this boundless generosity and lofty ambition ensures, "You did not die, but our grace and fortune did" (to namordi, nāz o bakht-e mā bomord); meaning, your name and memory live on and endure, even if our lives and joys fade. However, it must be emphasized that good deeds should not be performed for the sake of a good name or fame; fame should come to one naturally, rather than being the objective of the good act. Abraham the Friend, in his prayer, also said: "And grant me a truthful tongue among the later generations" (wa ijʿal lī lisāna ṣidqin fī l-ākhirīn).

Rumi compares this generous being to "one like a thousand in battle and generosity" (vāḥid ka-alf dar razm o karam); meaning, in the field of battle, they are unique among thousands of brave ones, and in the arena of generosity, they are like a hundred Hatam Ta'is. Hatam Ta'i, a symbol of magnanimity in our culture, is used here as a benchmark to portray the immense generosity of this 'You.' I recall the story of Hatam Ta'i's daughter, brought captive to the Prophet, upon whom the Prophet cast his cloak, leading Iqbal Lahori to address the Prophet: "We are more naked than that lady of Tayy, unveiled before the nations of the world." Yet, the 'You' addressed by Rumi is more generous than any Hatam, encompassing all under their protection. Muhyiddin Ibn Arabi, acclaimed as the greatest mystic of the Islamic world, also traces his lineage back to the tribe of Tayy, and in a way, to Hatam Ta'i. This demonstrates how deeply generosity is rooted in our Islamic and mystical culture, and Rumi elevates it to a degree where even Hatam Ta'i falls short in comparison.

Key takeaways

• This verse is an unreserved praise of the boundless generosity and steadfastness of a sublime being, the source of support for countless individuals.
• The concept of ʿiyāl (family/dependents) expresses humanity's deep reliance and dependence on the benevolence of this generous presence.
• Rumi portrays the addressed generosity as limitless and beyond material calculations, such that the giver does not even recall what has been bestowed.
• Unlike Hafez, who might lament the crookedness of the world, Rumi here displays absolute gratitude towards a perfect source of beneficence.
• The reference to a "good name" without seeking fame, and the comparison to Hatam Ta'i, illustrates the profound impact of generosity in Islamic-Persian culture.