HALLAJ
It appeared again in the water, in the wind, with the clouds of his hair, that crimson red march again, “Enelhak,” was always on his lips.
You, what did you recite in the “prayer of love”? Years have passed since you were hanged, yet still, these old executioners are afraid even of your death. The afflicted lovers of Nişabur, in intoxication, intoxication and in that moment of truthfulness, from beneath their lips slowly repeating your name in secret.
While you on the gallows silent and frozen, we remained spectators to the duty-bound executioners.
wherever the morning wind scattered your ashes a hero emerged from the earth
In the streets of Nişabur the drunkards of midnight slowly sing their crimson red songs
Your name, is on everyone’s lips.