Her Calamity, The
Opening To All Calamities,
By: Al-Isfahani,
the Critic (d. 1361 A.H.)
The grand philosopher
and the religious authority and the mentor/critic, said the following
in a poetic urjaza in his dewan known as Al-Anwar al-Qudsiyya:
Her calamity, the
opening to all calamities,
Was what she went
through at the door,
For the talk about
that door is surely grievous
Due to what the hands
of betrayal committed.
Did the foes really
assault
The House of Guidance,
The landing place of
Revelation,
The center of all
bliss?
Was the fire they did
ignite
At her house’s door
And the Sign of Noor
Overwhelms it with
light?
Her door is the door
of the Prophet
Of mercy, the Prophet
of salvation
Of this very Nation.
Nay! Her door is the
door of
The most High, the
most Exalted.
As though Allah’s
Countenance was manifested.
With that fire they
gained nothing but shame
After which there will
be that of the Fire of Hell.
How ignorant some
people are!
The fire burns not the
Noor of Allah!
The most Exalted, the
most Sublime!
But the breaking of
the rib has none to repair
Except with the sword
of one of might and power.
What wrenched those
sacred ribs was a calamity
None like it in all
eternity.
From the spring of
blood that gushed out of her chest
Can one tell what she
suffered, through what she went.
They transgressed all
limits when they
On the cheek slapped
her, may
The hand of oppression
God paralyze.
And still remains the
redness of her eyes
Of the eyes of
knowledge can only remedied
By white swords when
the banner is spread.
And the whips have a
sound of dreariness
Hear by Time, lacking
any happiness.
Remains, like a
bracelet, the mark
On the wrist of
al-Zahra’ that was so dark
A most strong of any
argument.
From the blackness of
her arm the cosmos
Was blackened, O Arm
of Allah! O Imam al-Murtada!
How the sword’s
scabbard was on her side planted
Bringing to memory all
what to her happened.
I know not the story
of the nail,
So ask the Custodian
of all secrets.
In the womb of glory
things that
Cause the inside to
bleed.
Can they really hide
What is known and
wide?
What about the door,
the wall, the blood?
True witnesses which
none can hide.
The criminal committed
against her son
His crime the like of
which is none.
So mountains were
crushed
Upon hearing her
wailing, though hushed.
Is this how the
Prophet’s Daughter should be treated
Running after power,
how wondrous it is!
Should one a grieved,
saddened woman keep,
For fear of slander,
forbidding her to weep?
By Allah! She ought to
shed tears of blood
As long as the earth
remains and the world
For having lost the
dear one, her great father
For her oppression and
for insulting her protector.
Should the inheritance
of the Truthful One
Become free for all
and her legacy
From the very best of
creation?
How could one call her
statement a lie
For it will be one’s
answer to the verse
Of Purification...?
Should the faith be
learned from a bedouin
Leaving aside the one
referred to in the Book?
Thus they confiscated
what she did own
Committing the extreme
in calamity.
Woe upon them! They
asked for a proof
Contrary to the clearly
defined Sunnah!
And their rejection of
those who did testify
Is the greatest
testimony to what we clarify.
Filling the gaps was not
coincidental
Nay! They closed hers
and the Murtada’s door.
They turned away from
the truth and did close
Its door, as though they
were secure against its retribution.
Should part of the
Greatly Purified one
Be buried at night, her
grave unknown to man?
She was not buried at
night and secretly
except because she was
with the oppressors angry.
Nobody heard that she
could ever thus be
In esteem unrecognized,
her grave unknown to you and me.
Woe unto them from the
Wrath of the Great One
For having oppressed the
flower of the Chosen One.
Taken From:
Al-Anwar al-Qudsiyya,
pp. 42-44. |