M6:1584 — چون جهنم گریه آرد یاد آن / پس جهنم خوشتر آید از جنان

Translation: When the thought of Hell brings forth tears, / Then Hell becomes more pleasing than Paradise. Meaning: Rumi posits that if the remembrance of Hell causes tears of repentance and spiritual awakening, it is preferable to a Paradise that induces heedlessness and vain laughter, for conscious weeping leads to the soul's purification.

This couplet, at first glance, might strike one as paradoxical, yet it encapsulates one of Mawlana's most profound insights into the nature of felicity and wretchedness. Here, Rumi asserts that the value of a state or a place lies not in its name, but in the effect it produces on the soul. If there is a Paradise that plunges you into heedlessness, that lures you into frivolous laughter, and eradicates your spiritual essence, then from his perspective, such a Paradise is 'worse'. Conversely, if even the memory of Hell and the fear it engenders can awaken you, can prompt tears of longing or repentance, and effect a purification within your soul, then that Hell is 'better'.

I have often remarked that acts of worship vary among individuals, and Rumi himself was deeply devoted to weeping, fasting, and asceticism. We witness this abundantly in his poetry, contrasting with Hafez who often emphasizes 'sahar-khizi' (early rising). For Rumi, weeping is an act of devotion, a mechanism for soul-purification. To convince us of the benefits of weeping, he employs numerous metaphors: 'Laughter, in tears, came concealed / Seek treasure in ruins, O simple one.' He suggests that treasure is sometimes found in ruins, just as true laughter and the soul's expansion are hidden within unmanifested tears. Some tears impart such a cleansing to the soul that it subsequently attains joy and clarity, and this very purity brings a smile to the lips.

Another metaphor he uses is the candle: 'You would be the house's light, like a candle / If you poured forth tears, like a candle's tear.' The candle's tear is a sign of its burning and sacrifice, ultimately leading to light. Or, 'When the cloud weeps, the garden laughs.' These are not dry, fruitless tears; rather, they are 'green tears' that fertilize the soul. To those 'vain laughers' who laugh without true insight or contemplation, Rumi says: 'You have tasted the joy of laughter, O thoughtless one / Now taste the joy of weeping, for it is a mine of candy.' He believes that the taste of conscious, gnostic weeping is sweet and pleasant like a sugar mine.

Despite his outward cheerfulness and vivacity among people, Rumi wept profusely in his solitude. These nocturnal, inner tears washed away sorrows and cleansed the heart of rust, granting him such a feeling of delicacy and purity that he could live his days with an open heart. These tears were not born of weakness or despair, but were profound cries from the depths of his being that led to liberation and lightness. Thus, this couplet is an invitation to contemplate the true function of fear and hope, and to value that sensitivity which draws us towards purity and self-awareness, even if this pull originates from the remembrance of Hell; as opposed to the comfort and heedlessness that alienates us from ourselves, even if it wears the guise of Paradise.

Key takeaways

• Rumi's criterion for valuing 'Paradise' or 'Hell' is not their name, but their spiritual and psychological effect.
• Conscious weeping, born of fear or repentance, is a soul-purifying act that can lead to true felicity.
• Heedlessness, even if experienced in a paradisiacal state, is condemned by Rumi.
• The true cheerfulness and expansion of mystics' hearts result from their deep tears and nocturnal solitude.
• Rumi distinguishes between meaningless laughter ('vain laughter') and laughter that arises from the soul's purity and clarity.