The Song of the Reed — بیتِ نی

Rumi on the Aches of Distance Between the Lover and the Beloved

The Song of the Reed (بیتِ نی) is the opening poem of Rumi's famous ‘Masnawi’ and I truly understand why. It’s a poem for the lonesome and a remedy for the aches of longing. I’ll let Rumi’s words speak to you before I offer my own.

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The Song of the Reed (بیتِ نی)
by Jalaluddin Rumi

Listen to the reed and the tale it tells,
how it sings of separation:

بشنو این نی چون شکایت می‌کند

از جدایی‌ها حکایت می‌کند

Ever since they cut me from the reed bed,
my wail has caused men and women to weep.

کز نِیِستان تا مرا بُبریده‌اند

در نفیرم مرد و زن نالیده‌اند

I want a heart that is torn open with longing
so that I might share the pain of this love.

سینه خواهم شَرحه شَرحه از فراق

تا بگویم شرح درد اشتیاق

Whoever has been parted from his source
longs to return to that state of union.

هر کسی کو دور ماند از اصلِ خویش

باز جوید روزگارِ وصل خویش

At every gathering I play my lament. I'm a friend to both happy
and sad.

من به هر جمعیّتی نالان شدم

جفت بدحالان و خوش‌حالان شدم

Each befriended me for his own reasons,
yet none searched out the secrets I contain.

هر کسی از ظّن خود شد یار من

از درون من نجُست اسرار من

My secret is not different than my lament,
yet this is not for the senses to perceive.

سرِّ من از نالهٔ من دور نیست

لیک چشم و گوش را آن نور نیست

The body is not hidden from the soul,
nor is the soul hidden from the body, and yet the soul is not for
everyone to see.

تن ز جان و جان ز تن مستور نیست

لیک کس را دیدِ جان دستور نیست

This flute is played with fire, not with wind,
and without this fire you would not exist.

آتش است این بانگِ نای و نیست باد

هر که این آتش ندارد نیست باد

It is the fire of love that inspires the flute.
It is the ferment of love that completes the wine.

آتش عشق است کاندر نی فتاد

جوشش عشق است کاندر میْ فتاد

The reed is a comfort to all estranged lovers.
Its music tears our veils away.

نی حریف هر که از یاری بُرید

پرده‌هااَش پرده‌های ما درید

Have you ever seen a poison or antidote like the reed? Have
you seen a more intimate companion and lover?

همچو نی زهری و تَریاقی که دید

همچو نی دمساز و مشتاقی که دید

It sings of the path of blood;
it relates the passion of Majnun.

نی حدیثِ راهِ پُر خون می‌کند

قصّه‌های عشقِ مجنون می‌کند

Only to the senseless is this sense confided.
Does the tongue have any patron but the ear?

محرم این هوش جُز بی‌هوش نیست

مر زبان را مُشتری جز گوش نیست

Our days grow more unseasonable,
these days which mix with grief and pain.

در غمِ ما روزها بیگاه شد

روزها با سوزها همراه شد

but if the days that remain are few, let them go; it doesn't
matter. But You, You remain, for nothing is as pure as You are.

روزها گر رفت گو رو باک نیست

تو بمان ای آنک چون تو پاک نیست

All but the fish quickly have their fill of His water,
and the day is long without His daily bread.

هر که جز ماهی ز آبش سیر شد

هرکه بی روزیست روزش دیر شد

The raw do not understand the state of the ripe,
and so my words will be brief.

در نیابد حالِ پُخته هیچ خام

پس سخن کوتاه باید والسّلام

Break your bonds, be free, my child!
How long will silver and gold enslave you?

بندْ بگسل باش آزاد ای پسر

چند باشی بند سیم و بند زر

If you pour the whole sea into a jug,
will it hold more than one day's store.

گر بریزی بحر را در کوزه‌ای

چند گنجد‌ قسمتِ یک روزه‌ای

The greedy eye, like the jug, is never filled.
Until content, the oyster holds no pearl.

کوزه‌ٔ چشم حریصان پُر نشد

تا صدف قانع نشد پُر دُر نشد

Only one who has been undressed by Love
is free of defect and desire.

هر که را جامه ز عشقی چاک شد

او ز حرص و عیبْ کُلّی پاک شد

O Gladness, O Love, our partner in trade,
healer of all our ills,

شاد باش ای عشق خوش سودای ما

ای طبیبِ جمله علّت‌های ما

Our Plato and Galen,
remedy for our pride and our vanity.

ای دوای نَخوت و ناموس ما

ای تو افلاطون و جالینوس ما

With love this earthly body could soar in the air;
the mountain could arise and nimbly dance.

جسم خاک از عشق بر افلاک شد

کوه در رقص آمد و چالاک شد

Love gave life to Mount Sinai, O lover.
Sinai was drunk; Moses lost consciousness.

عشقْ جانِ طور آمد عاشقا!

طور مست و "خَرَّ مُوسیٰ‏ صَعِقا"

Pressed to the lips of one in harmony with myself,
I might also tell all that can be told;

با لبِ دمسازِ خود گر جفتمی

همچو نی من گفتنی‌ها گفتمی

but without a common tongue, I am dumb,
even if I have a hundred songs to sing.

هر که او از هم‌زبانی شد جدا

بی‌زبان شد گرچه دارد صد نوا

When the rose is gone and the garden faded,
you will no longer hear the nightingale's song.

چون که گُل رفت و گلستان درگذشت

نشنوی زان پس ز بلبل سَرگذشت

The Beloved is all; the lover just a veil.
The Beloved is living; the lover a dead thing.

جمله معشوق است و عاشق پَرده‌ای

زنده معشوق است و عاشق مرده‌ای

If Love withholds its strengthening care,
the lover is left like a bird without wings.

چون نباشد عشق را پروای او

او چو مرغی ماند بی‌ پَرْ وایِ او

How will I be awake and aware
if the light of the Beloved is absent?

من چگونه هوش دارم پیش و پس

چون نباشد نورِ یارم پیش و پس

Love wills that this Word be brought forth.

If you find the mirror of the heart dull,
the rust has not been cleared from its face.

عشق خواهد کاین سخن بیرون بود

آینه غمّاز نبود چون بود

O friends, listen to this tale,
the marrow of our inward state.

آینه‌ت دانی چرا غمّاز نیست

زآن که زنگار از رخش مُمتاز نیست

[Translation by Helminski, 1998]

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Everything alone longs to return somewhere. Rumi describes, so accurately, the human soul’s deep yearning for reunion with its source, its origin. The reed, as a symbol of the soul, has been separated from the reed-bed and the yearning to return gives rise to an ache that becomes a song.

I am reminded of how often I have felt a similar ache. An emotional and existential longing for a return to something greater than myself. For a warmth that lasts. It’s as if there’s an inherent sense of "home" I can never fully reach, always a little further beyond my grasp. Perhaps the closest we’ve felt to it is in the arms of a mother, in the embraces of our beloved. Love seems to be the closest I come to feeling home.

Persian and Islamic mystics often portray the relationship between God and the soul this way. The union between creator and creation is seen as one of all-consuming love. Many Persian poets, such as Rumi himself, as well as others like Hafez, Saadi, and the legendary tale of Layla and Majnun, speak of God as the ultimate Beloved—a figure whose attributes are those we crave to embody, to touch, to relish, to closely admire. In the case of Layla and Majnun, the poet Nizami tells the tale of a love so intense and all-encompassing that it transcends human limitations. Majnun's love & infatuation for Layla (the divine) is so profound that it becomes an obsession, leading him to abandon all worldly concerns.

Rumi, in his own poetry, often describes God as both the Beloved and the Lover—the One whom the soul longs to reunite with, and Who, in turn, yearns to be reunited with us. God’s love is the force that draws us back to Him, and it is in the yearning for that love that the soul begins to transform. The suffering of separation is not seen as a punishment but as the inevitable pain of longing for what is most cherished: a love that sustains. Love is the dynamic force that drives the soul to seek its true nature, to reconnect with its divine source, to transform and develop to its highest potential in an attempt to meet Him.

Rumi’s depiction of the soul as a reed also implies that it is the separation from the Divine that gives rise to the soul’s desire for God. The separation, the isolation, it is not a sanction but a tentative invitation from the beloved to spiritual evolution. It is through our longing and striving that we grow closer to embodying the attributes of God—His mercy, justice, and beauty because that is how we meet Him. The movement toward Him is not in distance but in character. We must seek to become like Him in order to reach Him and isn’t that how all love works? When we love a person don’t we seek to become like them, don’t we modify parts of ourselves to imitate the best of them. The love for God as our Beloved is not a passive feeling; it is an active force that propels the soul to reach beyond itself, to transcend its limitations—as all love should.

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Artist: Unknown