• The Day of Abu Abdullah

    Ashura..Hussaina..Kerbala en av de bättre dikterna jag läst..

    How odd, on a day of joy, the world remembers the man called Hussain,

    One killed in a far-off land, with no profit and no gain.
    Or so it would seem, but wait, look again,
    Till today raised hands round the world take his name.
    What did he do, to deserve this praise?
    Why do people turn to him, all nights and days?
    How do hearts of lion with his name get swayed?
    Millions of people flow towards him like waves.
    Deserted by the people he had set out to lead,
    Besieged in the land which for him had been decreed,
    Surrounded by men who were victimised by greed,
    His family and friends denied even basic human need.
    His murder was the worst of all deeds,
    Carried out on the order of the Umayyad king Yazeed,
    A drunk adulterer, son of a slave once freed,
    In the rotten forest (of Abu Sufyan) he was another weed.
    A so-called leader, he wasn’t after the throne,
    That he already had, no, his arrogance had grown,
    In his head a field of fitna had been sown,
    That the only rule should be that of his own.
    He was already the Caliph, so what was left to rule?
    Tongues he could subdue but hearts he couldn’t fool,
    All free men’s hearts were captivated by one mans so true,
    Al Imam Al Hussain, son of Haider and Batool
    Yazeed used the classic weapons, money and fear,
    In a short time the line between the groups was clear,
    On the one side those to whose hearts the Imam was very near,
    On the other, those who held life and wealth more dear.
    History is witness to the tragedy that befell the Imam,
    The slitting of throats and the cutting of the arm,
    The captivity endured till Kufa and Sham,
    And the public humiliation in the gatherings of Haram.
    But, hold the victory, something is being said,
    ‘Oh Yazeed! You heard that name ‘Muhammed’
    That in the Adhaan, your mu’adhin just said?
    Understand, oh Yazeed, that Hussain is not dead!’
    His head may be on a tray near your feet,
    And with your cane his eyes and lips you beat,
    But soon you shall see who suffered the defeat,
    Prepared for you is the unrelenting Heat!
    Now you lie in your grave, God only Knows where it be
    But today, oh Yazeed, how i wish you could see
    The land of the man whose name you tried to bury,
    Then you would truly understand his victory.
    Hussain’s mission did not end in vain,
    The Qa’im will rise and raise the flag again,
    And when he will come, Oh Allah let me attain
    Your Pleasure, with my calling out:
    LABBAIK YA HUSSAIN! LABBAIK YA HUSSAIN!

Kommentera

E-postadressen publiceras inte. Obligatoriska fält är märkta *

Scroll Up