M1:279 — جز که صاحب ذوق کی شناسد بیاب / او شناسد آبِ خوش از شوره‌آب

Translation: Other than the possessor of (spiritual) taste, who can recognize water? / He alone distinguishes sweet water from saline water. Meaning: This verse asserts that one cannot rely solely on outward appearances to grasp the truth of things; only those endowed with a healthy inner 'taste' or spiritual discernment can perceive fundamental differences beneath superficial similarities.

This particular verse, in my estimation, represents the pinnacle of Rumi's argument concerning the distinction between appearance (ẓāhir) and inner reality (bāṭin), and the inherent dangers of superficial comparison (qiyās). As we've observed in preceding examples, 'shīr' (milk) and 'shīr' (lion) may be written identically, yet they signify two utterly distinct entities. Similarly, two bees may feed from the same flower, but one produces a sting while the other yields honey; two gazelles may graze on the same vegetation, but one's intake becomes pure musk, the other mere dung; and two reeds may draw from the same stream, yet one remains hollow, the other sweet with sugar.

Here, Rumi extends this profound argument to the example of water: bitter water and sweet water both appear clear and colorless; both flow; both are outwardly identical. But are they truly the same? Unquestionably not. The key to unlocking this enigma lies in 'dhawq' – spiritual taste or discernment. Rumi declares, "Other than the possessor of taste, who can recognize water?" (here, biyāb is an old form for āb, water). It is he alone who distinguishes pleasant, sweet water from saline water. This 'dhawq,' of course, is not merely a physical, sensory taste, but an inner, cognitive, and spiritual faculty; an intuitive insight that penetrates beyond external forms and communes with the essence of truth.

This inability to distinguish, according to Rumi, is the root of many human errors and delusions. As he laments elsewhere, "The entire world went astray for this reason; / Few came to know God's Substitutes (Abdāl)." People mistakenly perceived prophets and saints as being "just like themselves," for outwardly they ate, slept, and walked in the marketplaces. Yet, this 'self-referential comparison' (qiyās az khwad) is blinding. An 'infinite difference' (farq-ī bī-muntahā) exists between them. Their inner being operates as a different 'factory,' transforming the same 'food' or input into entirely divergent outcomes: "This one eats and generates only avarice and envy; / That one eats and generates only the love of the One." Food consumed by the impure increases their impurity, while the same food, consumed by the lover, engenders the love of the Divine within their being.

'Dhawq' is precisely the faculty that rescues humanity from such superficiality. This 'taste' is not akin to philosophical comprehension or theological argumentation; rather, it is an intuitive and heartfelt perception, the product of self-purification and inner refinement. One who has become a "possessor of taste" has a heart that, like a pure factory, transmutes every input into knowledge and purity. This is the very grace alluded to in the Holy Quran: "And We send down of the Quran that which is a healing and a mercy to those who believe, but it adds only to the perdition of the wrongdoers." The Quran is one, yet its effect is healing for believers and perdition for the unjust. Rumi's clear water of Masnavi, too, is the water of life for the 'possessors of taste,' and perhaps muddy, saline water for those without this discernment.

Rumi further emphasizes this point by contrasting 'magic' (siḥr) with 'miracle' (muʿjiza); both appear as extraordinary feats, yet sorcerers acted from 'obstinacy' (istīzeh) and 'deceit,' while Moses acted by divine command. Between these two, there is a 'deep difference.' This is where the role of the 'possessor of taste' becomes clear. It is he who recognizes these profound distinctions because his heart is not contaminated by the ailment of 'marāʾ' (dispute and ostentation). Dispute and blind imitation render human nature 'ape-like' (būzīneh-ṭabʿ), preventing the apprehension of infinite differences. Sound 'dhawq' is an understanding that liberates one from this apishness and opens the eye of the heart to truth.

Key takeaways

• To comprehend truth, one must transcend outward appearances and penetrate to the inner essence of things.
• The 'possessor of taste' is endowed with an inner spiritual discernment that enables him to distinguish true realities.
• Drawing analogies based on superficial similarities (e.g., between prophets and ordinary people) is a root cause of much delusion.
• The nature and effect of an action depend on the purity or impurity of the agent's 'heart' and inner being, not merely the action's outward form.
• Dhawq (spiritual taste) is an intuitive, heartfelt faculty born of self-purification, liberating one from superficiality.