M6:445 — چو زنخ را بست خواهند ای صنم / آن به آید که زنخ کمتر زنم

Translation: O idol (beloved), since they shall bind my jaw, it is better that I speak less now. Meaning: A fowler, disguised as an ascetic, tells a bird that since his jaw will eventually be bound in his shroud, he might as well practice silence now. This is a deceptive ploy to gain the bird's trust.

This verse is uttered by the deceitful fowler, who, in order to ensnare a clever bird, has adopted the guise of an ascetic, presenting himself as a vegetarian and withdrawn from the world. His words here exemplify one of the great afflictions of the spiritual path: hypocrisy and superficiality. The fowler claims that since death will eventually come and his jaw will be bound in a shroud, preventing him from speaking, it is better to habituate himself to silence from this very moment. This is a weak and superficial argument that Rumi places in the mouth of a trickster character to reveal the imitative and rootless nature of such asceticism.

I interpret this verse and this narrative not as Rumi's direct teaching, but as a critique of institutionalized Sufism and false asceticism. Rumi, himself a discerning critic of the Sufism of his era, consistently distinguishes between 'poverty of truth' (faqr-i ḥaqq) and 'poverty of sustenance' (faqr-i luqma). 'Poverty of sustenance' is the outward poverty that arises from material needs and hunger, and it can lead one to avarice and greed, as the Prophet stated: "Poverty almost leads to disbelief." This fowler employs poverty not for the sake of divine union but as a mask for hunting and greed. Experience has shown that outward poverty, especially in khanqahs (Sufi lodges), can lead to gluttony and covetousness, for "rarely does the Sufi find sustenance in this world / for this reason, the Sufi is a great eater"; this is not gnostic poverty, but rather a poverty of the lower self.

I see this discussion aligning with Saʿdi's account in "Saʿdi’s Dispute with the Claimant Regarding Wealth." There, a superficial dervish condemns the wealthy, to which Saʿdi retorts: "How can you attain their state of fortune, when you cannot / Even perform two rakʿats (units of prayer), and that with a hundred regrets?" Both Saʿdi and Rumi suggest that for spiritual well-being and purification of the soul, a minimum level of livelihood must be secured so that the heart is freed from avarice and greed. True asceticism lies not in deprivation or abandoning life, but in inner detachment from the world; otherwise, poverty can become a source of disbelief and hypocrisy.

Rumi values silence and stillness, but his authentic khamūshī (silence) has deep and manifold roots: from the abundance of what needs to be said ("I am silent because of the multitude of my words"), from protecting the audience from sword-like words ("The points are sharp like swords of steel"), from truth transcending mere discourse ("I am a mirror, a mirror, not a man of discourses"), from the ocean's signals ("Do not turn away from the sea's signs"), and from external highwaymen ("Alas, highwaymen are seated / They have tied a hundred knots under my tongue"). This silence, itself, is the eloquent language of truths. However, the fowler's silence is empty of meaning and springs from deceit. Even the address "O idol" (ey sanam) in the fowler's speech is a sign of his impurity and lack of true detachment; for a genuine ascetic in a deceptive situation would not use such terms, and this itself exposes his trickery.

Key takeaways

• True asceticism and genuine poverty are distinct from hypocrisy and greed.
• Superficiality and claiming spirituality without inner reality are major pitfalls of the spiritual path.
• Silence stemming from deceit stands in stark contrast to Rumi's profound "silence," which is itself another language.
• A minimum standard of living is essential for liberation from avarice and for the health of the soul.