M6:1645 — هر دمی شوری نیاوردی به پیش / بر نیاوردی ز تلوینهاش نیش

Translation: Why does it not bring forth a bitterness every moment, / And why does it not draw forth a sting from its colorings? Meaning: This verse questions why the world is not perpetually full of sweetness and constancy, and why the changes and variations of existence are always mixed with pain and adversity.

This verse speaks from the heart of one of humanity’s most fundamental questions about creation—a question that Mawlana articulates through the voice of the Sufi, and which I refer to as a “perennial question.” It is a timeless query that has echoed from the dawn of theology and philosophy to this very day. Here, the Sufi asks the judge: “Why would this world not always open the brow of mercy?” Meaning, what if this world perpetually wore a smile of grace? The Sufi immediately elaborates on the characteristics such a world would possess.

“Har dami shuri niyāvardi be pish” (Why does it not bring forth a bitterness every moment): Shur (شور) here signifies bitterness, standing in opposition to sweetness. The question then becomes: What if every moment brought forth nothing but sweetness to our palate, never making us bitter-tasted? This expresses a profound lament about the mutable and often disagreeable nature of existence.

“Bar niyāvardi ze talvin’hāsh nish” (And why does it not draw forth a sting from its colorings): Talvin (تلوین) derives from lon (لون), meaning color, and denotes “changing colors” or “changing faces.” The question here is: Why does this colorful world—this world of constant change and transformation—mix its nectar (nush) with a sting (nish)? Why do these incessant changes, these perpetual metamorphoses, always bring some harm or affliction? This is precisely the inquiry into the why of good and evil, joy and sorrow, light and darkness being intertwined in creation, a matter of serious concern for any thoughtful person.

Mawlana was well acquainted with this question, stating elsewhere: “Dar miyān-e Jabri-yo ahl-e Qadar / hamchenān jang ast tā Hashr, ey pedar” (Between the fatalist and the free-wwiller / the struggle continues until Resurrection, O father). This unending dispute, as Kant too noted centuries after Mawlana, possesses an existential dimension. Is it possible to conceive of a world where it is always day, always spring, always health and safety? The question is: “Khod cheh kam gashti ze jud-o rahmatash / gar nabudi kharkhasheh dar ni’matash?” (What would be diminished from His generosity and mercy / if His bounties were not mixed with disturbance?) This is, unequivocally, a protest against admixture, a protest against the constantly changing nature of the world. This question probes not only the human condition but the very condition of existence: Why is it this way, and not some other way?

Key takeaways

• This verse is a fundamental query about the nature of creation: why good and evil, joy and sorrow, are mixed in the world.
• The concept of talvin (تلوین), meaning the world's changing colors and transformations, is central to this philosophical question.
• The Sufi’s protest against this admixture is a perennial question, present from the dawn of theology to the present day.
• The verse expresses a longing for a perpetually sweet and sting-free world, devoid of change and suffering.
• Mawlana calls this intellectual dispute “unending,” echoing similar reflections by philosophers like Kant.