M6:2760 — هم بداند هم نداند دل فنش / موم گردد بهر آن مهر آهنش

Translation: The heart, with its artifice, both knows and does not know; / Its iron turns to wax for that love/seal. Meaning: The human heart possesses an intuitive cunning that simultaneously grasps and misses truths; yet, in the face of divine love or a profound spiritual impression, all its hardness melts into softness and surrender.

This couplet masterfully captures the paradox at the heart of human knowing. The heart, the inner core of our being, possesses an innate "fann"—an art, a skill, an intuition—that apprehends truths beyond the reach of mere intellect. Yet, simultaneously, this very heart "does not know." This isn't ignorance in the conventional sense, but a veiled knowing, a truth glimpsed yet obscured. Mowlana illustrates this with the story of Prophet Jacob: his heart, illuminated by divine light, sensed danger for Joseph, yet "qazā was in philosophy at that time." That is, divine decree caused Jacob to fall into philosophical doubt and perplexity, leading him to disregard the subtle sign his heart offered. This is the divine "blindfold" (چشم‌بند) that can make even the sighted stumble.

Thus, "the heart, with its artifice, both knows and does not know" refers to this paradoxical state. The heart is the fount of intuition, but this intuition is not always clear; sometimes, under the sway of "He does what He wills" (يفعل الله ما يشاء), it enters an ambiguous state where truth is both manifest and hidden. This is not a denial of spiritual insight but a description of its complexity when confronted by divine will. It stands in stark contrast to philosophical reasoning, which thrives on arguments and counter-arguments, fostering endless doubt and perplexity. Mowlana implies that the heart's true "fann" is not to resolve these intellectual knots but to transcend them.

However, the second hemistich offers the path to resolution: "Its iron turns to wax for that love/seal." The human heart, despite its inherent tenderness, can possess a rigidity like iron—stubbornness, worldly attachments, or even resistance to divine decree. But in the presence of "mehr," this iron transforms into wax. "Mehr" here carries a dual meaning: it can signify "love" and also "seal" or "divine impression." Divine love is a force so immense that it melts all hardness and resistance in the heart, rendering it soft and receptive. Alternatively, a divine "seal" or impression can refer to the hand of qazā itself, which imprints upon the heart, making it pliant and yielding like wax. In both interpretations, the heart moves from a state of resistance or ambivalence to one of surrender and creative receptivity. This surrender is not born of weakness but of liberation from rigid hardness, allowing the heart to be shaped by the Divine Maker. It is here that the heart, even in its state of "not knowing," achieves ultimate knowledge: by humbly yielding to the will and love of the Divine, freed from its ironclad self.

Key takeaways

• The human heart possesses an innate spiritual insight that transcends mere intellect.
• This intuitive knowledge can be veiled or made paradoxical by divine decree (qazā).
• The state of "both knowing and not knowing" describes a paradox where truth is simultaneously revealed and concealed.
• The "iron" of the heart symbolizes its rigidity, resistance, or worldly attachments.
• "Mehr" (divine love or divine impression) is the transformative force that melts the heart's hardness into softness (wax).
• Surrender and receptivity to divine will or love liberates the heart from doubt, leading it to ultimate knowledge.