Full text of al-Hallaj's poem, 'So kill me now...'

So kill me now, my faithful friends

For in my killing is my life.

My death would be to live,

My life would be to die.

To me removal of my self

Would be the noblest gift to give

And my survival in my flesh

The ugliest offense, because

My life has tired out my soul

Among its fading artifacts.

So kill me, set aflame

My dried out bones,

And when you pass by my remains

In their deserted grave,

You will perceive the secret of my Friend

In the inmost folds of what survives.

One moment I'm a shaykh

Who holds the highest rank,

And then I am a little child

Dependent on a nurse

Or sleeping in a box

Within the brackish earth.

My mother gave her father birth,

Which was a marvel I perceived,

And my own daughters whom I made

Became my sisters in this way to me,

Not in the world of time

Nor through adulteries.

So gather all the parts together

Of the glowing forms

Or air and fire

And pure water

And sow them in unwatered soil;

Then water it from cups

Of serving maids

And flowing rivulets;

And then, when seven days have passed,

A perfect plant will grow.





(from Al-Hallaj, Herbert W. Mason, Curzon Press, pp. 73-74)