Mansur al-Hallaj was a Persian mystic, poet and teacher of Sufism.
Born: 26 March 858 AD, Fars, Persia
Died: 26 March 922 AD, Baghdad, Mesopotamia
Goodbye my Sufi friend and lover
Nothing exists now to connect you to me
You are safe from the executioner's block.
Tayyar is honourable and full of good intent.
I will soon rise from the trap of this world.
I ask you to be my servant in paradise
You will be my dancer, I your poet.
On some days I taste the rain-clouds
That drift as you sew
I watch you, and fall in love.
I remember our first meeting
Amongst the sweet smell of the jasmine
In the rose garden where we couldn’t be
Seen or overheard. You were my perfumed
Idol. You were my window on eternity.
When Mansur Al-Hallaj was finally executed
For the blasphemy of being a Sufi I knew
My time would come. The Abbasids do not
Forgive. On this tight night of bone-white
Light I do not think of death. The Day of Death
Will come for everyone.
This wine from Al-Andalusia is sweet and clear,
Like a mirror
Or a still lake,
I see us now clear and calm.
Unaffected by the ripples that draw near
To this day of rumbling dark clouds,
Skies swirling and whorling on this day of days.
I am not an unbeliever. Equally, I know
There are many truths.
I was accused of paganism for reading Greek.
Herodotus, the father of History, did not seek to
Write a Greek version of the Greco-Persian wars
He sought to learn from past conflicts.
Herodotus attributes the causes of war
To both divine and human agents,
Wisely, in those days, not perceived as mutually exclusive,
But rather mutually interconnected.
Will this day of rumbling thunder never be done?
Be sure to testify to the spirit of tomorrow,
Kiss me at the door of eternity,
Your hand shakes,
Djinns are all around us. Listen to the wind.
We will not be separated for long, my love.