M6:1821 — قصهٔ دور تبسمهای شمس / وآن عروسان چمن را لمس و طمس

Translation: It tells the story of the sun's distant smiles, And the touching and embracing of the meadow's brides.

Meaning: This verse describes how the fruits of winter narrate the bygone, gentle smiles of the sun and its intimate embrace of the lush summer meadows, signifying a deep connection between nature and its generative source.

I interpret this verse within the context of "narration" (ḥekāyat) and "tale-telling" (afsāna), which Rumi contrasts with "complaint" (šekāyat). Prior to this verse, Rumi speaks of ice in the height of summer narrating the winter, or a fruit in the cold season recounting the tale of divine grace from spring. This verse continues that trajectory. The fruits that reach us in winter are not merely products of tree and soil; they are the ḥekāyat and qessa of a profound veṣāl (union).

This story is the narration of the sun's distant, past smiles (tabassomhā-ye šams). Šams here can refer to the celestial sun, or it can be a symbol of Šams-e Tabrīzī, who was the radiant light of truth for Rumi. But in this context, it refers to the sun of nature, which animates the garden and meadow with its smile. The "brides of the meadow" (ʿarūsān-e čaman) are the leaves, flowers, and plants, resplendent like brides. The sun "touches" (lams) them; it doesn't just shine upon them from afar, but establishes a contact so deep that it seems to embrace them. The word ṭams (effacing, obliterating) alongside lams is also highly significant. The sun's light not only touches them but covers them with its radiance and effaces them within itself, transforming them from their raw vegetative identity into a luminous one.

I have often remarked that if Rumi had been aware of the story of "photosynthesis," what wonders he would have uttered! This astonishing process, in which sunlight penetrates the chemical molecules within leaves, thereby creating energy and life, has never ceased to amaze me. This is not just a simple lams; it is an moʿāšeqe (intimate courtship), an ḥolūl (infiltration) and nofūz (permeation). The sun mingles with the leaves as if it is "impregnating" them, and from this impregnation, fruits are born, and life continues. Manūčehrī also alluded to this solar impregnation in his poetry, saying: "The sun impregnated me from afar." This is Rumi's very logic: a cosmic marriage, a pregnancy that ripens fruits in summer, the bounty of which sustains life even in winter.

Thus, the fruits of winter narrate the tale of this blessed union. This is a narrative that teaches us that even in the heart of cold and scarcity, one can find traces of past grace and the hidden smiles of existence. This is precisely the message Rumi conveys elsewhere: "If grief overtakes you, and you are shrewd, / Then from that despairing moment, leap forth and search again." If sorrow befalls us and we are wise, we must look to the "precedents," to the past smiles and bounties of existence, to drive away tempting despair. This verse is a precise allegory of this wisdom: a reminder of the deep and eternal connection of souls to their origin, even amidst temporary separations.

Key takeaways

• Winter fruits narrate the tale of summer's warmth and the sun's light, not a lament of the cold.
• "Shams" here can signify the natural sun or symbolize the radiant light of truth.
• The sun's "touching and effacing" (lams o ṭams) of the meadow is a metaphor for a deep courtship and the light's permeation into plant life.
• Had Rumi known about photosynthesis, he would have expressed this verse with even greater wonder, terming it the "sun's impregnation."
• This verse serves as a reminder of Rumi's wisdom: in sorrow, recall past blessings to avert despair.
• The narration of union and connection, even in apparent separation, highlights Rumi's anti-existentialist stance against "loneliness."