M6:2017 — منتظر گو باش بی گنج آن فقیر / زآنک ما غرقیم این دم در عصیر

Translation: Tell that dervish (seeking treasure) to wait without a treasure, For at this very moment, we are immersed in the ʿaṣīr (divine essence/wine). Meaning: Rumi, amidst a narrative, interrupts to express a peak spiritual ecstasy, asserting his complete immersion in the profound, true treasure of divine love, thereby dismissing the dervish's mundane pursuit of material wealth.

This verse bursts forth unexpectedly from Rumi's tongue in the middle of the story of the treasure-seeking dervish; this sudden interruption, like a wave rising, signals his unique spiritual state and profound self-oblivion. I have often stated that Rumi's words in the Masnavi flow like a river or a surging sea, gushing forth from his nature without the conscious craftsmanship one finds in a Hafez. Here, Rumi comes to himself and declares, 'Leave that dervish to his own devices, for we are now absorbed in our own affair.'

This 'ʿaṣīr' (essence/wine) in which Rumi speaks of being drowned is nothing less than the spiritual wine, the very essence of divine presence; that same intoxication without liquor that sweeps every seeker away and draws them into the sea of gnosis. This is precisely what Rumi means elsewhere when he says, 'Place that fiery wine in my palm / So I may fill the world with intoxicated grandeur.' He is engaged in samāʿ and immersed in the wine of divine knowledge, with no time to concern himself with the dervish's material treasure hunt. The phrase 'this very moment' (īn dam) also carries a deep reference to the Sufi principle of ibn al-waqt—living in the present, being fully absorbed in the now, without past or future, or even a material treasure, corrupting this state of presence.

I have previously noted that Rumi never openly confronted the exoteric jurists (faqīh-s), yet his lifestyle and poetry served as a silent critique of them. The phrase 'people of beard and mustache' in my lectures is a clear allusion to the dogmatic scholars of his time who were more concerned with outward appearances, prestige, and demeanor than with the essence of truth. Rumi himself had a very short beard, just enough to distinguish men from women, and shunned all forms of ostentation and arrogance. Instead of being a shopkeeper of religion, he was the helmsman of the ship of love. This verse, at its core, proclaims this very distinction: while the people of outward form seek earthly treasures, the people of inner meaning are submerged in a treasure that, in this very moment, wells up from the depths of their being.

Thus, Rumi's utterance here is not a complaint about his state or his times, but rather a narration (ḥikāyat) of his inner richness and his independence from superficial treasures. This state is the Jalā al-Aḥzān (polishing of griefs) that the Masnavi promises; a release from superficial sorrow and an immersion in the joy of love, which is sweeter than any sugar. This 'ʿaṣīr' is the sweetness of the 'sugar-reed' (ney-shekar) that Rumi alludes to in other poems, carrying the scent of the Beloved's loyalty.

Key takeaways

• Rumi's intense spiritual states occasionally interrupt the Masnavi's narrative, leading to spontaneous, passionate verses.
• Immersion in the 'ʿaṣīr' (divine essence/wine) represents a far higher spiritual station than the pursuit of material treasures.
• The phrase 'this very moment' (īn dam) refers to the Sufi principle of ibn al-waqt—living fully in the present moment.
• This verse serves as an implicit critique of exoteric jurists who prioritize outward appearance over inner spiritual truth.
• Rumi chose to offer an alternative path of inner richness rather than engaging in direct confrontation with his opponents.
• Rumi's language in the Masnavi is a direct reflection of his spiritual states, devoid of mere literary artifice.