Do not blame me for blame scarcely touches me[2][3]
Lā talumnī fal-lawma minnī baʕīd
نوع الشعر: فطعة
الشاعر: أبو الْمُغِيث الحُسِّين بن مَنْصُور الحَلاَّج المعروف بمَنْصُور الحَلاَّج
منطقته: أولًا بغداد
عصر: العباسي الأول (قرن الثامن-التاسع)
لا تَلُمني فَاللَومَ مِنّي بَعيدُ
وَأَجِر سَيِّدي فَإِنّي وَحيدُ
إِنَّ في الوَعدِ وَعدَكَ الحَقُّ حَقّاً
إِنَ في البَدءِ بَدءَ أَمرىِ شِديدُ
مَن أَرادَ الكِتابَ هَذا خِطابي
فَاِقرَؤوا وَاِعلَموا بِأَنّي شَهيدُ
Type of poem: Qiṭʕah
Name of poet: Abū l-Muġīṯ al-Ḥusayn b. Manṣūr al-Ḥallāj known as Manṣūr al-Ḥallāj[1]
Region of poet: Primarily Baġdād
Era: ʕabbāsid (9th-10th century)
Do not blame me for blame scarcely touches me[2][3]
and guide[4] me, Lord, for I am lonely[5]
If truly in your promise lies a promise of truth[6]
then in my principle is basis of a solid decree[7]
Whoever should desire to read this, my speech
so read it, and be aware of that: I have seen![8]
[1] An exceedingly eminent yet also equally controversial Ṣufī mystic, ascetic, teacher, poet, and author - inter alia - of the exceedingly seminal yet also equally controversial Kitābu ṭ-Ṭawāsīn - the Book of Ṭawāsīn - of the disjointed letters Ṭāʔ and Sīn found at the beginning of some chapters of the Qurʔān, wherein - inter alia - his mystical experiences are expressed in rhymed prose, metered poetry, and in terms of the quintessential Ṣūfī trope of divine love of madness - as in Majnūn Laylā - as well as an interpretation of the dialogue between God and Iblīs - Šayṭān, the Devil - concerning Ādam, and Iblīs' refusal to obey God's command to bow towards Ādam, which is taken as an act of superior and ultimate love of and submission towards God and the impossibility on part of Iblīs to act otherwise; the notion that Iblīs brings evil into the world is also reframed by arguing that were it not so, there would be neither a test therein nor any good whatsoever at all, etc. pp.
It bears mentioning the Šayṭān/Iblīs in this context is similar to Šāṭān - adversary, an Aramaic word - in the Book of Iyyōv/Ayyūb/Job, with the addition that Šayṭān is - as are the Jinn - a being of fire and that his role in this world is to tempt humans into sin by whispering (waswasah) into their hearts (the seat of intelligence or perhaps rather intuition in Islām and Semitic languages in general.)
Suffice it to say, a very great deal of context, apart from the above, would be required in order to truly explicate the deeper - or even merely superficial - meaning of this particular poem and the Book of Ṭawāsīn.
More briefly:
The early days of Ṣūfism may very well be taken as to have begun, in a sense, with Qays b. al-Mulawwaḥ - Majnūn, "crazy". Qays, of Tribe b. ʕāmir, fell for Laylā of the same tribe but their love was to be unfulfilled and rendered beyond reach by, essentially, tribal politics - a perennial subject, even in this day and age. Driven mad by his longing that was not to be fulfilled, he lost his intellect, his mind and became known as - or simply became - Majnūn: crazy, literally: hidden, as in: his intellect became hidden. He then turned into a wandering poet, incessantly composing poetry on his beloved Laylā. While this traditional narrative - similar to the contemporaneous Qays b. Ḏarīḥ whose beloved was named Lubnā - only attained its ultimate form through the the Persian poet Niẓāmī Ganjavī - of Ganja, in present-day Azerbaijan - in the 12th century and thus attained tremendous popularity in the Islāmic world from the Maġrib to the Indian subcontinent, it begins in the Najd of the Umayyad era.
In an anecdote - it is of little importance whether this actually happened or not - an early mystic or ascetic, seeking the presence of God in solace and reflection, in a state of deep contemplation crossed paths with Qays b. al-Mulawwaḥ, by the time he had become Majnūn, who, in fact, walked right through him, entirely unaware of the physical presence of the mystic, or perhaps even his own. As he did so, Majnūn incessantly repeated the name of his beloved: Laylā, Laylā, Laylā, and so on and so forth and the mystic the divine name: Allāh, Allāh, Allāh. The mystic then wonders: how is it that my contemplation was disrupted by he whom is repeating but the name of his worldly, secular beloved person, a human being when I aspired towards the attainment of my Glorious Majesty?
Worldly, secular love, between human beings, with its themes of longing and separation, submission and madness, and two that become one on one hand and on the other, divine love, in Ṣūfism very early on became one and the same. Poetry, its recitation in remembrance and contemplation, in Ṣūfism is one with love poetry and very often it is ambiguous whether love poetry is of the first or the second kind. Divine love, then, is that of the unattainable, unfathomable beloved, the separation from and seeking to enter into union with the same, the attainment of submission, annihilation, and extinction therein, the state which transcends the world and its innumerable contradictions, the sublation thereof, in which all conventional notions are erased, in which the world becomes utterly incomprehensible, the state wherein which there is neither complaint nor comprehension of any sort - in modern terms, death of the ego, the self - towards Tawḥīd - unification, unitarity of all in the unitary, divine presence - on the basis of the promise of the beloved and the trustworthiness thereof, at the peril of all that is held to be true such that but wonderment and amazement remain and secrets are disclosed between the lover and the beloved.
This, in countless shapes and forms, reverberates through Ṣūfī rituals, disciplines, literature, and poetry, of which amongst innumerable examples one may mention: Junayd of Baġdād and Manṣūr al-Ḥallāj in the 9th-10th century, al-Ġazālī, the Conference of the Birds by ʕaṭṭār of Nīšāpūr, and b. ʕarabī of al-Andalus, all in the 12th century, and Jalālu d-Dīn Muḥammad Balḫī - Rūmī - in the 13th century, inter alia.
[2] This poem is taken from the chapter of the Ṭāsīn of Before Endless-Time and Equivocation from the Book of Ṭawāsīn, comprising the dialogue between Iblīs and God concerning Iblīs' refusal to prostrate (or bow) before Ādam. In the preceding part of the text, God and Iblīs speak of the impossibility of Iblīs - or anyone else - having any choice in any matter whatsoever and that if would God have chosen for Iblīs to prostrate before Ādam, Iblīs would have obdiently done so without any choice in the matter, etc. pp.
[3] viz. do not hold me responsible for my actions, do not find fault with them and me, lay blame upon me, for the very notion of blame, responsibility, fault, and even causation is utterly remote to me now and I am far removed from the mere conditions of possibility thereof in your ineffable, divine presence the incomprehensible oneness of which leaves neither space nor time for any other-than-you for I am annihilated in the no-end of you, etc. pp.
[4] alternatively: reward
[5] viz. and thus: guide me, decree for me, for no guidance but yours now remains, and I am devoid of the very notion of guidance, and what you decree has been decreed, and what you have decreed shall be decreed, and I am devoid of being and existence in your the solitarity of your unitarity, etc. pp.
[6] viz. if the promise of my beloved holds true and I may hold on to the truth of my beloved's promise and if the promise is that of truth, the sole truth, the sole ultimate, absolute reality of love and extinction in my beloved, etc. pp...
[7] viz. ...then the principle, the basis, the beginning that I depart from towards my beloved on the grounds of my beloved's premise is that of sound, solid, firm, yet also severe, strong, and serious decree, command, instruction, guidance, order, power, authority, etc. pp.
[8] alternatively: I am a martyr! or: I have witnessed! - the meaning is ultimately the same.
