M6:139 — هیچ «کرمنا» شنید این آسمان‌؟ / که شنید این آدمی پر غمان

Translation: Did this sky ever hear "Karramnā (We have honored)"? Who heard it? This human full of sorrows. Meaning: God bestowed unique honor only upon humanity—a being intimately acquainted with grief and suffering—not upon the vast, inanimate cosmos. This verse highlights humanity's special dignity and preeminence among creation, acknowledging sorrow as an intrinsic part of this bestowed grace.

This couplet, from Mowlana’s perspective—and, I insist, from ours—serves as a foundational declaration of humanity’s singular place in the cosmos. The question, “Did this sky ever hear 'Karramnā'?” is rhetorical; of course, it did not! This divine address, “Karramnā,” is a direct reference to the Quranic verse, “Wa laqad karramnā Banī Ādam” (Quran 17:70), explicitly bestowing honor and dignity upon the Children of Adam alone, not upon the towering heavens or the myriad stars and celestial spheres. This unique distinction rests solely on human shoulders.

The intriguing point here is that Mowlana immediately follows this pronouncement of divine honor with the epithet “ādamī-ye por ghamān” (human full of sorrows). This state of being “full of sorrows” is not a defect but an essential, even pivotal, dimension of humanity. Angels do not comprehend pain and suffering; it is humankind that is born with a “brand” or “wound,” as Mowlana himself says, “We are those poppies born with a brand.” The capacity to suffer, to grasp sorrow, and to experience separation is what renders humans worthy of this particular honor. This grief is of the nature of separation from one’s origin, not of existential, nihilistic loneliness. It is the “green sorrow” in which awareness and movement are inherent, not a paralyzing despair.

Here, Mowlana contrasts humans with inanimate creation, unequivocally asserting humanity's preeminence. The sky, for all its immensity, lacks intellect, sensation, comprehension, discernment, and soul. We never compare ourselves to the heavens—neither in beauty, intelligence, nor in our aspirations and desires—because such a comparison is maʿal-fāriqe, utterly absurd. Humans, despite their earthly bodies, “exceeded the sky and the ether”; they have risen above the heavens and all they contain. Human worth is not measured by physical stature but by the ceiling of one’s aspirations and resolute endeavor—that very sawdā (zeal or passion) that enables the soul’s flight.

To elucidate this superiority of soul over form, Mowlana employs a beautiful parable: no one stands before the image of a beautiful maiden painted on a bathhouse wall and claims to be more beautiful, for the image is lifeless. Yet, the same person might present themselves before an old, half-blind woman, declaring, “I am younger and more capable.” Why? Because that elderly woman, for all her physical frailties, possesses “intellect, sensation, comprehension, discernment, and soul.” Soul compares itself only to soul; “a king speaks only to a king.” It is the soul that is the criterion of honor and superiority, not apparent vastness or grandeur.

Key takeaways

• The divine honor of "Karramnā" is a unique and exclusive gift to humanity, not to any other creation.
• Grief and sorrow are an inseparable part, and even a catalyst, for human dignity; angels are devoid of pain, but humans are "full of sorrows."
• Human superiority lies not in the earthly body, but in the soul, intellect, awareness, and capacity for discernment.
• Comparing humans to inanimate cosmic bodies is fallacious, as the soul can only truly compare itself to another soul.
• This sorrow is of the nature of separation from one's origin, leading to awakening and return, not existential loneliness.