M6:3488 — چشم چون نرگس فروبندی که چی / هین عصاام کش که کورم ای اچی

Translation: Why do you close your eye like a narcissus (narcissus flowers often appear half-closed or sleepy)? Come, guide me with my staff, for I am blind, O brother! Meaning: Rumi reproaches those who wilfully feign blindness to obvious truths, ironically asking why they pretend not to see, when truly blind individuals are in genuine need of guidance.

This verse presents a sharp, cutting question to anyone who deliberately shuts their eyes to the truth. Rumi interprets "closing the eye like a narcissus" not as the natural languor or sleepiness of the narcissus flower, but as a kind of voluntary, self-imposed blindness. He effectively asks, with a chiding tone, "Why have you feigned blindness?" This alludes to self-deception and negligence in the face of patent realities that demand contemplation.

What strikes me most deeply in this verse is its connection to Rumi's earlier counsel in the same narrative: "Do not abandon your own sight for the sight of the ignoble (khassān)." This means that a human being must employ their own vision, perceive with their own insight, and judge for themselves, rather than delegating this faculty to the "ignoble" or depriving themselves of the gift of sight through laziness and ignorance. This is the "far-sighted eye" (cheshm-e ma'āl) of prophets and saints, who saw the world as a "carcass" (jifeh), in contrast to the "present-seeing eye" (cheshm-e hāl) that is deceived by superficialities and unripe fruits.

The invitation, "Come, guide me with my staff, for I am blind, O brother!" is deeply ironic. Rumi, with a reproachful tone, tells this person—who is capable of seeing but keeps their eyes shut—"Come and be my guide, for I am truly blind and in need of direction. You who have feigned blindness, at least help someone who is genuinely sightless." However, he immediately delivers a vital warning: "And that guide you chose for your journey / You will see is even blinder than you." This implies that even in choosing a guide, one must rely on one's own insight. If someone who has deliberately closed their eyes selects another as a guide, it is highly probable that the guide will be even more incapable, leading both into error.

This verse is situated within a broader narrative where Rumi speaks of Satan's deceptions at the moment of death, referring to him as the "devilish peddler" (dīv-i dallāl) and his "ewer of water" (abrīq-e āb). There, he warns that many people, under duress, trade their faith and spiritual assets for the "rotten walnut of the world" (jowz-e pūsideh-ye dunyā). This "rotten walnut" can signify wealth, position, fame, and even certain worldly sciences that are initially attractive but, when cracked open, prove to be empty and pithless. One who deliberately closes their eyes will never grasp this "rottenness" and will be deceived by "stirring illusions." Therefore, Rumi urges the audience to "observe from afar and pass on," not succumbing to such superficiality and self-deception. This verse teaches us both to take responsibility for our own insight and to be discerning in choosing our guides, never being fooled by appearances; for a "blind guide" will lead you nowhere but astray.

Key takeaways

• Do not outsource your personal insight; the responsibility for seeing and judging rests with you.
• Do not be deceived by appearances; many worldly attractions, like a 'rotten walnut,' are empty at their core.
• Do not feign blindness; deliberate disregard for truth is a form of self-deception that hinders spiritual growth.
• Be vigilant in choosing guides; one who lacks true insight might lead you to a worse plight.