M6:2679 — در دل عاشق به جز معشوق نیست / در میانشان فارق و فاروق نیست

Translation: In the heart of the lover, there is nothing but the Beloved; / And between them, there is no divider nor distinction. Meaning: This verse asserts the complete and utter unity of the lover and the Beloved, to the extent that the lover's heart holds nothing but the Beloved, and no separation can be conceived between them.

I have previously noted that Rumi’s approach to love and the relationship between lover and Beloved fundamentally differs from that of many other great poets, such as Hafez. In conventional literature, the Beloved typically assumes a position of aloofness and coquetry, while the lover embodies need and supplication. Hafez himself says: “Between the lover and the Beloved, there is a great difference; when the Friend shows coquetry, you must show need.” This perspective portrays the Beloved as indifferent and self-sufficient, and the lover as consumed by burning passion. The Beloved might even derive pleasure from the lover's suffering, remaining utterly unmoved.

However, Rumi, unequivocally, rejects this approach. In his view, the lover and Beloved are of the same essence; both are mostasqī (thirsty), not one sated and self-sufficient while the other perishes in thirst. He declares: “Love is thirsty, seeking one who is thirsty.” This love is two-footed, carried on two shoulders. Both the Beloved is a lover of their lover, and the lover is a lover of their Beloved. The difference lies in the fact that the lover's love manifests “with hundreds of cries and laments” and is openly expressed, whereas the Beloved’s love is “hidden and veiled” and does not reveal itself. Both hands are full of this precious commodity; neither is impoverished. In genuine and sincere love, as the popular verse states: “How sweet is love from both sides; for one-sided love is but a heartache. If Majnun's heart was distraught, Layli’s heart was even more so.” This holds true particularly in divine love; the emergence of a servant’s love for God is a sign of grace and an intimation from the Divine Truth.

Our current beyt stands at the pinnacle of this unity. Rumi says: “In the heart of the Beloved, all is the lover; in the heart of ʿAzrā, Vāmiq always resides.” This is the very point: the entire being of the lover is surrendered to the Beloved. He then emphatically states: “In the heart of the lover, there is nothing but the Beloved.” This is no longer merely a heart; it is the Beloved. And to underscore this oneness, he adds: “And between them, there is no divider nor distinction.” There is nothing between these two that could create distance or differentiate them. Love is this unifying, miraculous alchemy that so completely unites two hearts, two human beings, two souls, that they can no longer be called two. This union is not a synthesis; it is a coming to be one, to the extent that they acquire a single identity. This is a connection that is “beyond qualification, beyond analogy” (bi-takayyof, bi-qiyās); meaning it transcends our rational categories, comprehension, and description. This is something the lover experiences, and it is for this reason that firaq (separation) is so bitter and soul-destroying—though at this level of unity, true separation is impossible, unless no union had occurred in the first place.

The question arises: Can anyone “deceive oneself” (zarq ben)? That is, can one schedule a meeting with oneself every other day? Or be a companion to oneself by turns? This is not reasonable. One is always with oneself. Unless the “un-self” (nā-khod) has infiltrated one’s being, alienating one from oneself, and an enemy has taken residence in one’s house. In that case, one finds no joy in one’s own company and may even dread it. But in the original, unadulterated state, this unity with oneself, and with the Beloved who is “closer to me than I am to myself,” is an innate and enduring reality. The understanding of this unity cannot be achieved by intellect alone; Rumi states that “the comprehension of this depends on the death of the self,” and its prerequisite is qahr-e nafs (the subjugation of the ego) and struggle with the lower self. If intellect alone sufficed, the Merciful God would not have commanded the struggle against the ego.

Key takeaways

• Contrary to many poets, Rumi believes both the lover and the Beloved are mutually thirsty; love flows from both sides, not just one.
• The unity between the lover and the Beloved in Rumi's discourse is so profound that the lover's heart becomes the Beloved, leaving no distance between them.
• Love is an alchemical unifier that transforms two beings into such an intimate oneness that they transcend duality, achieving a single identity.
• This union transcends rational comprehension and cannot be described by logical categories; it is an experience that must be lived.
• The bitterness of firaq (apparent separation) stems from this profound unity, as true separation is impossible between a lover and Beloved who have become one.
• Full understanding of this unity requires the 'death of the self' and qahr-e nafs (subduing the ego), as intellect alone cannot grasp this mystery.