M1:121 — شمس در خارج اگر چه هست فرد / می‌توان هم مثل او تصویر کرد

Translation: Though the sun in the outer world is indeed singular, It is possible to imagine and picture a likeness of it. Meaning: While the physical sun in the sky is unique, the human mind can still conceive and visualize a similar image of it. This verse serves as a prelude to distinguishing it from the incomprehensible "Sun of the Soul."

This verse, "Though the sun in the outer world is indeed singular, / It is possible to imagine and picture a likeness of it," appears in Rumi's Masnavi just before he explicitly mentions the name of Shams-e Tabrizi. It builds upon Rumi's earlier assertion: "There is no stranger in the world like Shams / The abiding Sun of the Soul, who knows no yesterday (ams)." First, we must understand the concept of a 'stranger' (gharīb) in Rumi's era: it did not denote modern political statelessness, but rather the soul's sense of alienation in this earthly realm, as if its true homeland lies elsewhere. Rumi himself considered his soul a gharīb in this world.

The celestial sun, this "outer sun" situated in the fourth heaven, though unique and not of material essence, is itself a stranger in this world. However, the crucial point of our verse is that despite the singularity of this physical sun, the human mind "can picture its likeness"; that is, the intellect possesses the faculty to construct an image of it within itself. This capacity for mental imagery is the key insight of this beyt.

Yet, this is merely a prelude to a deeper distinction. In the very next verse, Rumi immediately contrasts it with the "Sun of the Soul" (Shams-e Jān), stating: "But the Sun of the Soul, which came from beyond the aether, / Has no likeness in the mind nor in the outer world." What is this "Sun of the Soul"? Rumi offers no explicit definition, but we can infer three probable meanings, all consistent with the spirit of the verse: firstly, the "Eternal Beloved," meaning God; secondly, "Shams-e Tabrizi," who himself is a symbol of that Beloved; and thirdly, the "Perfect Human." All these interpretations align with this description.

The fundamental difference is that Shams-e Jān, unlike the physical sun, not only is unique and peerless but fundamentally has no likeness, whether in the mind or in external reality. If we interpret it as God, then it is lā ḍidda lahu wa lā nidd lahu—it has no opposite and no peer. More importantly, its essence is formless. How, then, can one create a "conception" (taṣawwur) or "picture" (taṣvīr) of something without form? The word taṣawwur originally means the comprehension of a thing's form, akin to receiving an "information," an internal 'form.' But if something lacks form, any attempt to conceive it is futile. Hence Rumi asks: "Where is the capacity for conception within its essence, / That a likeness of it might enter into conception?"—meaning, even its essence cannot be conceived, much less its likeness.

Rumi illustrates this inability of the mind to picture Shams-e Jān with various analogies: the tale of the camel entering the bird's house, which collapses; or light entering the shadow's house, where both shadow and house vanish. These all articulate the mystical principle that "when God comes, the seeker becomes naught"; the presence of the Absolute leads to the annihilation of the relative. This is the same narrative as the gnat complaining to Solomon about the wind, but as soon as Solomon summoned the wind, the gnat fled, declaring: "My grievance is its very existence"—meaning, its very presence is an impediment to me. These two (the finite being and the Absolute Reality) cannot coexist; one is effaced in the presence of the other.

Thus, this verse serves as a crucial bridge. On one hand, it points to the human mind's capacity to comprehend the sensible world, even if that sensory object is singular. On the other hand, by positing this capacity, it reveals its fundamental difference from the understanding of Shams-e Jān, which is not only unique and peerless but is essentially "formless" and "beyond the aether" (i.e., beyond the material realm), making any mental image of it impossible. This distinction is the necessary preamble to entering the domain of "Shams-e Tabrizi," where Rumi immediately states: "When the discourse of Shamsoddin's face arrived, / The sun of the fourth heaven veiled its face"—meaning, the majesty of Shams's presence is such that even the celestial sun is humbled before him.

Key takeaways

• The verse draws a subtle distinction between the imaginable material sun and the formless, incomprehensible "Sun of the Soul."
• It highlights the human mind's capacity to picture and conceptualize even unique sensory phenomena, contrasted with its inability to grasp the essence of the Absolute.
• The "Sun of the Soul" is a multifaceted metaphor for the Divine Essence, the Perfect Human, or Shams-e Tabrizi, characterized by uniqueness, timelessness, placelessness, and formlessness.
• The presence of the Absolute, like the wind to the gnat in Solomon's story, leads to the annihilation and dissolution of mental conceptions, and even the seeker's existence.
• This beyt serves as an essential bridge to Rumi's explicit discussion of Shams-e Tabrizi, foreshadowing the immense majesty of his presence.