M6:620 — بعد ازین این سوز را قبله کنم / زانکه شمعم  بسوزش روشنم

Translation: From now on, I will make this soz (burning/ardour) my qibla (spiritual direction), For I am a candle, and by my burning, I am illuminated. Meaning: This verse expresses the lover's resolute acceptance of inner suffering, transforming it into the very focal point of their spiritual journey, as this self-consumption is the source of their light and perfection.

“From now on, I will make this soz (burning/ardour) my qibla (spiritual direction), for I am a candle, and by my burning, I am illuminated.”

This verse is a decisive declaration by the seeker, not a lament of pain, but a conscious, even laudatory, embrace of it. Here, Rumi teaches us that inner suffering and ardour are not scourges to be avoided, but a potent force for spiritual orientation and perfection. This is the zenith of acceptance in the spiritual journey, where pain transforms into a qibla – a focal point of prayer and devotion.

As I have noted before, from the Ash'arite perspective, God is the absolute owner, and whatever He does with His property is permissible, without any injustice being ascribed to Him: “If you burn your own house, burn it; who is there to say it is not permissible?” This verse is not merely a justification for divine justice but an expression of the lover's profound surrender to the Beloved. The lover sees themselves in this process, where their burning is an act of the Divine manifesting within their being. This self-effacement and intoxicated surrender signify a love that has overcome reason, creating an ecstatic state where suffering is not only endured but actively adopted as a spiritual direction. This is no longer an involuntary burning, but one that is wholly embraced and oriented.

This act of “making suffering one's qibla” demonstrates that Rumi has moved beyond mere complaint. While the listener might perceive the reed's cry as a complaint, Rumi himself clarifies: “I am not the complainer; I am the narrator.” Here too, the candle's burning is not a sign of weakness or misery, but a symbol of its power to illuminate. The candle, by consuming itself, illuminates both itself and others. This burning is the “green sorrow” I have spoken of before; an honorable suffering that, instead of extinguishing, creates light and movement. This pain is no longer mingled with grief; rather, it is a prelude to joy and the flight of the soul.

In essence, burning here serves as a form of loving asceticism (riyāżat). The seeker perceives themselves as a candle, drawing light from the intoxication of their own consumption. This light, in turn, illuminates the path for the seeker and serves as a guide for others. This is akin to the invitation to the “street of the sleepless” (kūy-e bī-khābān), where lovers, like moths, cast themselves into the fire of love. This burning, far from leading to annihilation, bestows life, and instead of darkness, engenders illumination.

Key takeaways

• Inner burning and suffering are not misfortunes but the spiritual qibla and guiding principle for the seeker.
• The lover sees themselves as a candle, deriving light from their own consumption and illuminating others in the process.
• This verse expresses complete surrender to divine absolute ownership; whatever the Beloved does is just and desired by the lover.
• The transformation of pain and suffering into a source of light and perfection signifies a constructive, 'green sorrow'.
• This embrace elevates the seeker beyond mere complaint or even gratitude, leading to the zenith of love and self-effacement.