Last Updated on Sunday, 19 September 2010 23:52
Written by Sahar Hussain
Sunday, 19 September 2010 23:17
Islamic Poetry -
Imam Ali ibn Abi Talib (A.S.)
The tears that spring from my eye,
account for my admiration,
as I write in praise of Al-Haider.
I ask the Yathrib's sky, of Ali's whereabouts,
and it directs me towards a water-well.
" Guide me towards my Master, "
I begged the burrowing moon.
" I am a lover clothed with despair,
abandoned in Rasul'Allah's land. "
" Seek the house with a burnt door "
cried the moon, exhaling the air of solitude.
I have heard my Ali is oppressed,
after Zahra's departure, he is forlorn of comfort.
With whom does my Master now confine,
the painful sighs of his heart.
If my mistress restricted her mournful cries,
to the loci of Bait Al-Hazin;
then may sorrow dwell in my heart,
for Ali Al-Murtaza is companionless!
Where is Salman, Maisam and Aba Dhar,
where are my Imam's loyal associates?
Rise Oh faithful devotees,
rise and see your dearest Ali,
sharing his whispers with the water-well.
The dark night shadows upon my grief,
as I walk past the forsaken alleys of Madina.
Ya Rasul'Allah! assist me, as I compose verses,
portraying the helplessness of your brother, Ali.
It is time for the dawn prayers,
and Ali has left for the mosque.
The perception of vague restless in the birds,
as they clasp the cloak of my Master,
with their beaks.
Ya Rasul'Allah! assist me, as I walk in the path of my Master.
" Allahu Akbar " - " Allah is Great ";
and Ali knelt in humbleness.
" Allahu Akbar" - " Allah is Great";
and he leveled his forehead to the ground.
Ya Rasul'Allah! assist me. I hear cries from the praying men.
" Ali is martyred! " " Woe onto us! "
echoed in every corner of the mosque.
With eyes flooded with tears,
and a heart furnished with sorrow,
I leapt forward to catch a glimpse of my darling Master.
Ya Rasul'Allah! assist me!
My Ali, drowning in his pure blood,
with the onset of weakness.
His eyes searched through the crowd,
longing to meet his brother's eyes.
Ya Rasul'Allah Ali is waiting for you.
The final sight of my Master,
with his face smeared in blood,
he raised his hands higher,
and said; " I submit to His Eminent Will ".
Ya Rasul'Allah I exclaimed, petrified;
my Ali was indeed oppressed!