M6:666 — انت وجهی لا عجب ان لا اراه / غایة القرب حجاب الاشتباه

Translation: You are my face; no wonder I do not see you; / The extremity of closeness is the veil of confusion and intertwining. Meaning: This verse articulates the ultimate proximity of the lover to the Beloved, a closeness so profound that the Beloved's presence, much like one's own face, becomes unseeable and prone to being mistaken precisely because of its overwhelming nearness. Actual distance vanishes, and this extreme intimacy itself acts as a veil to direct perception.

Mowlana here points to one of the deepest mystical paradoxes: that extreme proximity becomes the very veil. A human being never sees their own face directly; they require a mirror. The Beloved, too, like the lover's own face, remains hidden from sight due to oneness and intense closeness.

This invisibility does not stem from absence but arises from overwhelming presence and absorption. Mowlana emphasizes this very meaning in the subsequent verse: "You are my intellect; no wonder if I do not see you," for the intellect, too, is comprehended, not seen. Here, the boundary between seeing and understanding, observation and immersion, blurs. Lover and Beloved are so intertwined that their separation and distinction for the purpose of sight become impossible.

This proximity transcends mere spatial or even psychic closeness. Mowlana, later in these verses, speaking through the minstrel, alludes to the divine word in the Quran: "You came closer to me than the jugular vein." This Quranic phrase (Q 50:16) not only signifies God's encompassing knowledge and presence but also, for Mowlana, sketches the peak of existential closeness. When the Beloved is nearer than the jugular vein, then calling out to Him with "ya" — which is typically used for addressing what is distant — becomes a loving ploy. Mowlana himself, in later verses, explains the reason for this "ya" call: "Rather, I mislead them, calling out in the desolate lands / So that I may hide the one who is with me from those who are jealous."

This "jealousy" is an aspect of love that does not wish the Beloved to be revealed to rivals or those lacking the capacity to grasp such intimacy. This is the same jealousy Saʿdi refers to in his famous ghazal: "My heart and soul are busy with you, but my gaze is left and right / So that rivals may not know you are my beloved." While Mowlana and Saʿdi speak in different genres and from different stations — Mowlana being an aviator in the skies of meaning, Saʿdi grounded in wisdom and politics — they sometimes converge in expressing the subtleties of love. Hafez, too, in the opening of his Divan, speaks of "O Saqi, pass the cup and hand it round," a phrase itself borrowed from the Divan-e Shams, testifying to a Saqi who, despite being present, is hidden and unseen. All these point to a single truth in the realm of love: ultimate proximity sometimes dons the garb of absence and becomes a veil itself.

Key takeaways

• Extreme proximity and oneness can themselves be a veil to direct perception, rather than the Beloved's absence.
• The Beloved, like one's own face or intellect, is unseeable yet possesses an all-encompassing presence.
• The Beloved's closeness is so profound that addressing Him with 'O' (ya), a call for the distant, becomes a loving stratagem to conceal this intimacy from rivals.
• This paradox is reflected in numerous mystical texts and classical Persian poetry.