I mourn to You the subtle intimations of every mind—
nothing of them remains but the weather-worn trace of learning.⦗1⦘
I mourn, by Your love, the lofty virtues of a company
whose mounts were the dusky steeds of patient restraint.
All of them have departed, leaving no sign and no relic—
gone like the tribe of ʿĀd, like the lost ones of Iram.
They left behind a people who only imitate their outer garb,
blinder than untamed beasts—indeed, blinder than the grazing herd.⦗2⦘

They relate: when al-Ḥallāj was led out from the house where he had spent the night, on his way to be executed, he recited:
I looked for a place of rest in every land,
yet nowhere on earth did I find repose for me;
I obeyed my longings, and they enslaved me—
had I been content, I would have lived free.⦗3⦘

Some say he uttered these lines when he was brought to the stake on which he would be crucified, though the report just mentioned is the more widely known.

He then walked on,⦗4⦘ swaggering in his gait while thirteen shackles bound his legs, and he began to chant:
My drinking-companion cannot be accused
of any act of injustice;
He served me the draught that one guest
customarily offers another.
When the wine had gone its full round,
He called for the leather cloth and the sword;
Such is the fate of him who quaffs the wine
in the company of the dragon in the heat of summer.⦗5⦘

He then recited, “Those who do not believe in it seek to hasten it, whereas those who believe in it are apprehensive of it and know that it is the truth.” ⦗Q 42:18⦘ After that he spoke no further until what was ordained for him was carried out.⦗6⦘

They say that he was then brought forward and given one thousand lashes; afterwards his hands and feet were severed, yet throughout it all he remained silent, uttering not a single word, and his complexion did not change.⦗7⦘

It is reported that with every lash he kept saying: “Aḥad, Aḥad” (He is One, He is One).⦗8⦘