Jab Qata Ki Masafat-e-Shab Aftab Ne جب قطع کی مسافتِ شب آفتاب نے

Stanza 1

When the sun had completed the journey of the night
and the unveiled face of the dawn shone out,
the King whose stirrup is the heavens looked toward the sky,
and turning, that noble one called to his companions:
"The night is at its end; give praise and glory to God;
rise, and perform the duty of the dawn prayer.

Stanza 2

"Yes, warriors, this is the day of combat and slaughter;
here the blood of Muhammad's family will be shed today.
The face of Zahra's son is red with joy;
the night of separation is past, the day of union has come.
We are those for whom the angels will grieve;
we have spent our nights in restless longing for this day.

Stanza 3

"This is the morning whose evening is blessed;
when we march from here, our dwelling is paradise.
May the thirsty reach Kausar with honour;
may God write all our names among those who pray.
Let the cry go up on every side: each is unique in his age;
whoever rises from the world a martyr rises with honour."

Stanza 4

Hearing this, those who knew God rose from their beds;
each one adorned his body with fine clothing.
Without fear they all combed their beards,
tied on their turbans and came to the Imam of the age,
coloured cloaks on their shoulders, their waists girded,
their clothes steeped in musk, civet and perfume.

Stanza 5

The praise of God on their dry lips, light upon their faces;
fear and dread, grief and rancour far from their hearts;
generous, knowing the truth, resolute and wise,
thoughtful, witty, patrons of skill, jealous of honour.
The beauty of their voices gave the ear open delight;
such savour in their words that hearts took pleasure.

Stanza 6

Valiant, forbearing, heaven-high in rank, brave,
noble-minded, a Solomon in Sheba, a lion in battle;
the champions of the age were brought low by their might;
starving for three days, yet sated with life.
They hold the world worthless from end to end;
in the breadth of their hearts they count the ocean a drop.

Stanza 7

In speech, such allusion and hint that none could answer;
if a single point left their lips, it was the choicest.
Their mouths were like a chapter of the book of eloquence;
their dry tongues succeeded through the honey of fluent speech.
The poets of Arabia were enamoured of their accents;
their pistachio lips were so full of savour.

Stanza 8

Laughter on their lips, their faces more blooming than flowers;
from their bodies rose the scent of Joseph's shirt.
The youths of paradise longed in their hearts to serve them;
God-fearing, ascetic among the righteous, of good nature.
No stone holds such rubies, no shell such pearls;
the houris said, "They are angels, not mortals."

Stanza 9

There was no water for those heaven-high men to make ablution,
yet the dust of dry ablution lent their faces a wondrous lustre;
they looked like suns seen through a thin cloud.
The servants of Abu Turab are humble as the dust.
The purity of their moon-like faces grew still greater;
with dust the mirrors gained a brighter polish.

Stanza 10

Out of the tent came the King's kinsmen, fine in character,
among them several darlings of Khair-un-Nisa:
Qasim with his flower-like body, Ali Akbar so handsome,
and together the young sons of Aqeel, Muslim and Jafar.
The light of all their faces reached the highest heaven;
a cluster of eighteen suns stood upon the earth.

Stanza 11

The waving of the desert grass in the cool breeze,
at which the green satin of the sky would blush;
the swaying of the trees, the fragrance of the flowers,
the glint of a drop of dew on every rose petal.
Diamonds were abashed, matchless pearls were offered up;
even the leaves of every tree were inlaid with jewels.

Stanza 12

I would give my life for the art of the Creator's pen!
On every leaf the craft of inlay was plain to see.
The thought of skilful poets is helpless before it;
where could a simple mind grasp such artistry?
The world was lost in the power of the Lord of His servants;
enamel had been laid upon that paradise-like valley.

Stanza 13

That light, that lovely plain, that open air,
the calls of francolin and partridge, quail and peacock,
that surge of flowers, that singing of sweet-voiced birds;
the morning breeze brought coolness to the heart.
With their flowers the green, green trees were clad in red;
even the basins round the palms were flower-sellers' baskets.

Stanza 14

That plain, those gusts of breeze, that green meadow,
those lustrous pearls scattered over the flowers,
the branches swaying and rising again and again;
on each palm, for one nightingale a thousand roses.
Since those in Zahra's garden were longing for water,
the dew had filled the cups of the roses.

Stanza 15

The ring-doves crowding round the cypresses on every side,
the clamour of their cooing, the din of their cry 'Haq sirruhu';
everywhere the call, 'Glory to our Lord!'
Every rite of their worship was being performed.
It was not only the flowers that praised the Lord most high:
even every thorn had the praise of God on the tip of its tongue.

Stanza 16

Even the ant raised its hands and said again and again,
"O Provider of the weak who carry grain, I am Your sacrifice!"
On every side the cry, "O Living One, O Mighty One!"
In places the witness to God's oneness, in places the praise of the Maker.
Birds rapt in the air, deer in the meadows;
the lions of the forest were roaring in their thickets.

Stanza 17

Among the thorns, on one side, were the flowers of the Prophet's garden,
whose fragrance made paradise of the wilderness through all its breadth and length:
the beauty and adornment of the world and of Batool's household.
That was the garden the Messenger had planted with his own hands.
In the first ten days of the month of mourning it was destroyed;
it was cut down in the wilderness at the hands of rebels.

Stanza 18

Allah! The bloom of this garden on that day of autumn!
Muhammad's rose-cheeked ones could not contain their joy;
they were dressed as bridegrooms, and death was their garland.
That vigil the whole night long, that heaviness of sleep!
Every path was perfumed with the fragrance of their bodies,
when the buds of the flowers opened with a smile.

Stanza 19

That plain, and the splendour of the verdigris-green tent,
as though a new heaven had been pitched upon the earth,
its canopy the highest heaven, standing without poles;
the Ancient House, the Medina of the faith, the soul of the world.
The darlings of Allah's beloved were within it;
all the stars of the throne of His majesty were within it.

Stanza 20

The ground of this plain was proud before the heavens;
the seventh sphere called it the tenth heaven.
Its curtains were the envy of the eyelids of the wide-eyed houris;
the sky with its stars was a gleaner of this harvest.
Seeing the light upon the sun-crest of that Saturn-high one,
how the morning has laughed at the sunflower!

Stanza 21

Suddenly the white line of dawn appeared in the sky;
the King of the age came to the prayer mat;
prayer mats were spread behind the King of men and jinn;
[…] beautifully the moon-faced Akbar gave the call to prayer.
Every eye brimmed over with tears;
it was as though the voice of the Messenger had reached their ears.

Stanza 22

The birds were silent; the trees swayed in ecstasy;
leaf and flower, bud and fruit were singing God's praise;
clods and plants, wilderness and valley were lost in praise;
the creatures of the river had lifted their heads from the water.
It was a miracle: at the voice of Shabbir's beloved
the cry 'God is greatest' came from all things, dry and moist.

Stanza 23

The King's womenfolk were weeping bitterly in the tent;
the noble Bano stood silent in the courtyard;
Zainab, taking his ills upon herself, said again and again:
"I am a sacrifice for the worshippers, I give my life for the caller to prayer!
This is how the praise and attributes of the Lord of Majesty are told.
O people, hear the call to prayer of my Joseph-fair one!

Stanza 24

"This beauty of voice, this recitation, this rise and fall!
Truly, the most eloquent of the eloquent is his own grandfather.
It is as though it were the melody of wise David.
O Lord, keep this voice in the world for ever.
The turns of his voice are like petals in a flower;
a nightingale is singing in the garden of the Messenger.

Stanza 25

"Let someone go for me and take his ills upon them!
My child, may God keep you from the evil eye!
That eloquent one whose fluent speech delights every heart,
that for two whole days he should not find a single drop of water!
Far from home, calamity has fallen upon Husain;
this is the third day of hunger for the light of my eyes."

Stanza 26

When the call 'The prayer has begun' rang out along the row,
the prayer was established, and the King of creation rose.
Those rows of light, those worshippers with the qualities of angels,
against whose feet the path of salvation rubbed its eyes!
Husain's radiance reached up to the exalted Throne;
was it the tablet of the Holy Book, or Husain's prayer mat?

Stanza 27

In one row stood all the kinsmen of Muhammad and Haidar,
eighteen young men, if you count them,
but all wounded at heart, knowing the truth, humble,
followers of the pure Imam, the wise ones of the age.
The prayer beads everywhere beneath the heavens are theirs;
this dust over which blessings are recited is theirs.

Stanza 28

That standing and sitting in prayer has gone from the world;
for them was the worship of the Necessary Being:
that humility, those long bowings, and those prostrations!
In obedience they counted their very being as nothing.
There was no strength left in their hands and feet to move,
yet falling and falling they prostrated beneath the shade of swords.

Stanza 29

When their hands rose toward God in the standing supplication,
the gates of answer in the heavens opened of themselves;
the skies trembled, the throne of His majesty shook;
both their hands were wings for the bird of prayer.
Those humble ones lay rapt in entreaty on the ground;
like the Holy Spirit, their prayers were at the Throne.

Stanza 30

When the Qibla of mankind had finished the prayer,
the thirsty young men came to clasp his hand;
high and low, one kissed the hand of the King of kings,
another reverently rubbed his eyes upon his feet.
What hearts they were! What a rightly guided, blessed army!
They embraced one another, for it was the festival of dying.

Stanza 31

The King, whose throne is the sky, was sitting on the prayer mat
when suddenly three or four arrows fell close by.
Each one turned and looked toward the army of the wicked;
Abbas rose, weighing in his hand his matchless sword.
They were moths about the light of the lamp of the Imamate;
he held up his shield before his master, whose wonders shine forth.

Stanza 32

The leader of the age turned to Akbar and said,
"Go, my darling, and tell them in the tent
that the mighty army has girded itself for rebellion;
let the ladies take the children out of the courtyard,
lest some child, unheeding, be killed by an arrow;
I fear that Asghar's neck may become the target."

Stanza 33

While the King, whose throne is the sky, was saying this to his son,
Fizza cried from the entrance, "O lord of all creation,
alas, where are Ali's daughters to hide themselves?
The arrows have fallen right up to Asghar's cradle.
In the heat these little ones wept all night, choking with sobs;
the children have only just fallen asleep in the cool air.

Stanza 34

"Baqir lies in one place, Sakina in another, fainting;
the season of heat, this fever and burning, and this thirst!
The moon-faced little ones have cried themselves to sleep;
where can the starving take the children from here?
For what offence do the arrows rain down one after another?
The children long for a breath of cool air."

Stanza 35

Hearing this clamour, the Imam of heavenly dignity rose;
his companions and friends came to the entrance, holding up their shields.
Turning, he said, "Now we march to the field of battle;
gird yourselves for fighting in God's way, send for the horses.
Let us see the air of paradise and let our hearts rejoice;
may we soon be done with the work we owe the community."

Stanza 36

Having said this, the King of land and sea went into the women's tent;
out here the ranks began to gird themselves.
Putting on his armour, the renowned Abbas
began to pace before the door like a lion.
Lightning from the radiance of his face flashed upon the ground;
his sword was in his hand, his shield upon his pure shoulder.

Stanza 37

In majesty the helmet on his head was the envy of Solomon's crown;
the wings of the huma were a hundred thousand times devoted to its plume.
His two gauntlets were the dwelling of victory, the house of triumph;
such awe that men cried for mercy, such daring that they cried 'Beware!'
When such a brother stands as a shield amid the swords of tyranny,
how should the brother's breast not be as firm as a mountain?

Stanza 38

Going into the tent, the King saw how it was with the women:
their faces drained of colour, the hair of their heads unbound.
Zainab was praying, "O Lord of Majesty,
let the son of Khair-un-Nisa be saved from this strife;
may the harvest of Bano, of good name, stay green,
her parting filled with sandalwood, her lap with children.

Stanza 39

"The traveller in the desert of Karbala is in distress;
such an onslaught on a friendless man, such cruelty to a Sayyid!
If a battle breaks out, far from home, what will become of us?
O God, have mercy on these tiny children!
We are at death's door from hunger, perishing of thirst;
O Lord, we are the pure family of Your Messenger!

Stanza 40

"No Ali is over our heads now, no Messenger of heavenly dignity;
our home is plundered, the Lady of the age has passed away.
After my mother, I mourned and wept for Hasan;
now Husain alone is left in the world to remember them all by.
Grant me justice, for You are the refuge of justice;
if anything befalls him, this whole gathering is ruined."

Stanza 41

The King of heavenly rank went close to her and said,
"Do not be distressed; all your prayers are answered.
These ruined wretches are proud and in the wrong;
I shall go myself and show them the right path.
Sister, this is not yet the time for crying out and sighing;
bring the sacred relics of the Messenger."

Stanza 42

The garment the Messenger had worn on the Night of Ascension,
Zainab brought it on a tray to the King of the faith.
He set on his head the turban of the chief who knew the truth,
and put on the pure cloak of the Messenger whose foundation is the heavens.
The Messenger's robe sat true and close upon his body:
Fatima's kerchief, the Messenger's turban.

Stanza 43

The two ends of the turban, hanging with such dignity,
made it seem that four locks lay upon his shoulders.
Every strand of his jasmine-scented locks was curling;
Khata and Khotan would give themselves up for every hair of it.
Musk, ambergris and aloes-wood, if they exist at all, are worthless;
these are the coils of his locks: how could the hyacinth fathom them?

Stanza 44

From the clothes came the scent of the Messenger of the age;
no bridegroom can ever have breathed such fragrance from his bride:
the scent of Haidar, of Fatima, of Husain and Hasan,
the scent of the Panjtan spread on every side.
Perfume was being scattered over that valley of ambergris;
the flowers swayed in the garden, and Rizwan in paradise.

Stanza 45

When the King of the age had put on all the garments,
his sister took his ills upon herself and began to weep.
She cried, "Alas, today neither Haidar nor Hasan is here!
Mother, where can this homeless one bring you from now?
It is the farewell of the Messenger's Joseph-fair one;
I would give my life! Come, take on yourself the ills of your own son."

Stanza 46

When the King had the chests of weapons opened,
Zainab, the refuge of chastity, beat her face.
The Imam of heavenly court put on his coat of mail;
glory and dignity recited the two Jaushan prayers over his arm.
By the beauty of his body all the mail's sheen shone out;
as many links as it had, so many stars were shining.

Stanza 47

When he saw Zulfiqar, he remembered Ali;
kissing its hilt, the King of the faith wept bitterly.
As he took the gleaming sword in his hand and weighed it,
Majesty cried out, "I give my life for your glory!
May victory and triumph be near, may help be near;
may its splendour be yours, and its blow the enemy's lot!"

Stanza 48

When Zahra's son girded the sword to his waist,
the new moon tore open its collar in the sky.
The angel-natured leader put on his gauntlets;
Hamza's shield rose to its height upon his shoulder.
So high was its rank, so marked with blessing,
the whole shield bore the splendour of the seal of prophethood.

Stanza 49

Here the master of high and low had finished arming;
there the standard of the chief of mankind was made ready.
All the Sayyid ladies stood round it with their heads uncovered;
the Imam's sister wept, holding the staff of the standard.
Swords at their waists, turban-ends upon their shoulders,
Zainab's sons came and stood beneath the standard.

Stanza 50

Those rose-cheeked boys had tucked up the skirts of their tunics
and turned back their sleeves to the elbow with great dignity;
the awe of Jafar, the majesty of the Lion of the Maker,
shone out, renowned, upon their slight young frames.
They kissed the pennant of the standard and rubbed their eyes on it,
and began to circle round the banner, swaying with joy.

Stanza 51

Now they looked at their mother, now toward the standard;
at times their cry was, "We are a sacrifice for the King of the nations!"
At times the two brothers took counsel together;
at times those noble boys quietly asked their mother,
"What is intended for the standard of Ali the Wali?
Mother, who will be given our grandfather's standard?"

Stanza 52

"If the gracious King of kings takes any counsel,
we too have a claim; may you keep this in mind.
Out of respect we have not the boldness to ask it ourselves,
and we fear, too, that you may be displeased.
We are our master's servants, ready to give our lives;
we seek honour and long for a name."

Stanza 53

"All the young men in the Messenger's army were matchless,
yet it was to our grandfather that the Prophet gave the banner.
At Khaibar the great army could only stand and stare;
at the hour of trial it was Ali who won the standard.
There is no lack of strength in us, though we are hungry and thirsty;
we are his own grandsons, his daughter's sons."

Stanza 54

Then Zainab said, "What business is this of yours?
What say have I? The Imam is master and has the choice.
Take care that you say nothing disrespectful;
I shall be angry if you so much as name the standard.
Go now, enough; stand aside with your hands folded.
Why have you come here, leaving Ali Akbar's side?"

Stanza 55

"Move aside, step back, go! Do not stand by the standard,
lest the King, whose foundation is the heavens, should see.
You come here and rob me of my senses;
enough! This request cannot be granted.
You will start to cry if I say a hard word;
what can I call this stubbornness but childishness?"

Stanza 56

"Your years are few, and you crave a lofty office!
Very well, then find some way for your height to grow as well.
Your mother would give her life for you, though this is a proof of courage;
yes, among those of your age you have no equal.
One should think, reflect, and weigh what comes before and after;
why should anyone covet what is beyond his reach?"

Stanza 57

"Will this standard be lifted by these tiny hands?
Of them all you are the shortest in height, the youngest in years.
May the breath leave your bodies at the feet of the Prophet's grandson:
that alone is the office, that the rank, that the glory.
If you want leave to go to battle, that I can see to;
your mother would give her life for you: today the name is won in dying."

Stanza 58

"What is it to you if your elders were the pride of the age?
It does not become you to take pride in a borrowed merit.
True worth is what the sword itself reveals;
show today the fighting of Haidar and Jafar.
Why should you say that you are the sons of God's friend?
Let the armies themselves cry out, 'These are Ali's grandsons!'"

Stanza 59

"How great a name Jafar the Flier won by the standard!
This too was a gift of the Messenger of heavenly rank.
In battles gone wrong, it was he who set things right;
when he drew his sword, Byzantium and Syria shook.
When he lost his life, the palm of war bore fruit:
in place of his hands, God gave him wings of jewels."

Stanza 60

"When the army had suffered defeat for three days,
then the Messenger of God gave the standard to Ali.
When that Lion of the Lord slew Marhab and pressed on,
the whole garrison shut the gate of the fort and fled.
That gate, heavy as it was, came away from the hard rock
as one might pluck a leaf from a tree."

Stanza 61

"For three days the son of the Remover of difficulties has been hemmed in;
your mother's garden is being trampled in the wilderness.
You did not even ask why I have uncovered my hair;
I am being plundered, and you are thinking of rank!
You neither share my grief nor love the Imam;
now I know: it is a name you are after."

Stanza 62

Folding their hands again and again, those tulip-faced boys said,
"Please restrain your anger, O sister of the Imam!
By Allah, how should we now dare even to name the standard?
It will all be seen when these faithful servants fight.
We shall rout the armies and sleep in the martyrs' resting place;
then you will know our worth, when we are no more."

Stanza 63

When, having said this, the blessed sons stepped aside,
the mother's heart overflowed; holding her heart, she said,
"My darlings, you bring me news of your own deaths!
Wait a little; let this mourner take your ills upon herself.
Your mother would give her life for you; did her counsel hurt you?
Children, what have you said? A knife has struck my heart."

Stanza 64

Coming to Zainab, the King of the age said,
"Well, sister, did you hear what your two sons said?
Lions among lions, wise, fierce, breakers of ranks;
Zainab, these two flower-bodied boys are unique in their age.
To look at, they have the bearing of their elders in every way;
their mettle is something else, their resolve is something else."

Stanza 65

"Only nine or ten years old, and such daring, such fervour!
Has anyone ever seen children so high-spirited?
How should fortune not come and lay its face at their feet?
In what a lap they grew up, on what milk they were nursed!
No doubt they are the heirs of the Commander of the Faithful;
but what can I say? Both of them are young in years."

Stanza 66

"Now let the army's standard be given to whomever you name."
When the King of heavenly glory had asked her counsel,
he said, "Ever since the generous Zahra passed away,
from that day we have held you in a mother's place.
The choice is yours, whether it be someone older or younger;
whomever you name, to him let this office be given."

Stanza 67

The sister said, "You too should name someone:
toward whom does the lord of high and low incline?
If the King of heavenly station is asking me,
after the Quran, your word alone is the word.
In majesty, in stature, in glory he has no equal:
there is none better than the renowned Abbas."

Stanza 68

"Devoted, a servant, a retainer of long standing, ready to give his life,
a son, a brother, an ornament at your side, faithful by nature,
fierce in battle, his father's keepsake, the pride of the age,
a bringer of comfort, obedient, distinguished, renowned;
he is a breaker of ranks, lion-hearted, brave and good,
matchless among hundreds, one in a thousand."

Stanza 69

His eyes filling with tears, the King of the age said,
"Yes, sister, this too was Ali's will.
Very well, call him; where is that breaker of ranks?"
Hearing these words, Akbar went to his uncle
and said, "The proud King is waiting for you;
please come, sir; my aunt has sent for you."

Stanza 70

Abbas came before the King with folded hands.
"Go to your sister," said that refuge of the faith.
Zainab came at once, bearing the standard with glory and dignity;
taking the banner, the King whose court is the Throne said,
"Her pleasure is the pleasure of the Panjtan;
take it, brother, take the standard: it is your sister's gift."

Stanza 71

Placing his hand on the standard, that man of heavenly dignity bowed
and proudly rubbed his face upon his sister's feet.
Taking his ills upon herself, Zainab said, "I would give my life for you!
Abbas, keep watch over all that Fatima earned in her life.
If today a way to peace appears, then set out tomorrow;
take our brother and get away from these calamities."

Stanza 72

He said, "As long as my head is on my body,
it cannot be that the army of evil breed should advance.
Let a hundred thousand swords be drawn, I will make my breast a shield;
what nerve, what heart have they to raise their eyes and look?
We are the valiant sons of the Lion of the Lord of Majesty;
were it a lion, we would tear out its eyes and fling them away."

Stanza 73

Then, turning toward Ali's grave, he spoke:
"Today my Master has made a speck of dust into a sun.
This is the plea of your humble servant, O Abu Turab:
may I win martyrdom before my master;
may my head fall from my body before the son of Fatima;
where Shabbir's sweat falls, may my blood be shed."

Stanza 74

Hearing this, the wife of the renowned Abbas came;
first she glanced sidelong toward her husband,
then with tearful eyes took on herself the ills of Mustafa's grandson;
circling round Zainab, the mourner said,
"This is your bounty and the Imam's grace:
the honour of your handmaid has grown, and the rank of your servant."

Stanza 75

Pressing her head to her breast, Zainab said,
"May you always be blessed in your husband and your children."
She replied, "May a hundred thousand handmaids like me be sacrificed
for the renowned Bano; may God keep her husband with her!
May the children live, may fortune and dignity increase;
may Ali Akbar be married under your shelter."

Stanza 76

"May fate bring the King safely home again,
and may the cry go up in Yasrib that Husain has come back from his journey;
may Umm al-Banin receive her son in glory and dignity;
may God soon show us Akbar's wedding night;
may your darling rub henna on his hands and feet,
and may you bring the bride home by starlight."

Stanza 77

Suddenly little Sakina came and said,
"What is this crowd? Where is my uncle?
May God bless him with the office of the standard!
People, let me take his ills upon myself for a moment.
May God increase the majesty of my dear uncle!
Let me too see the glory of Ali's banner."

Stanza 78

Abbas smiled and called, "Come, come!
Your uncle would give his life for you; tell me, how are you in this thirst?"
Clinging to him, she said, "Take my water-skin with you;
now that you have the standard, bring me water to drink.
Give me no present, give me no reward;
I would give my life for you: give me a cup of water."

Stanza 79

He said, "This is no cause for worry."
At her words all the Sayyid ladies wept.
The son of Hasan came and said, "O Imam,
there is a great throng: the army of Syria is pressing on."
"Abbas is going out now with the standard;
wait; when I have met my sister, I too will follow close behind."

Stanza 80

Suddenly the faithful Abbas went forward with the standard;
all the household ran out, heads uncovered, feet bare.
Raising his hand, the revered one said to each of them,
"Farewell now, O pure women of Mustafa's house!
It is the dawn after the night of parting; look upon your loved ones;
all together, look upon the setting stars."

Stanza 81

Zainab, weeping and grief-stricken, fell at the King's feet;
Bano collapsed and fell beside her son;
Kulsoom, trembling, fell to the ground;
Baqir fell in one place, Sakina in another.
The garden was laid waste; every fresh flower was gone;
the standard went out as though a bier had left the house.

Stanza 82

When they saw the splendour of Abbas, high as the Throne,
the army, having offered its congratulations, moved forward before the standard.
The King of both worlds came out of the women's quarters;
the lament and sighs of Ali's daughter pierced the heart like a lancet.
Again and again tears flowed down the noble one's face,
as dew drips from a sunflower.

Stanza 83

The Master mounted his horse with the majesty of Muhammad;
with what pomp and splendour the quiver was slung!
From jinn and men and angels alike came the cry,
"Buraq has come down again from heaven to the earth!"
In its pace its whole bearing is the partridge's gait;
its veil is a new bride's, its face a fairy's.

Stanza 84

See its eyes bulge in anger;
see it walk, swaying in the pride of youth;
see how its joints are cast as if in a mould;
see how, pausing, it shifts its ears.
Fairies long to put their arms around its neck;
in soaring high it outdoes even the huma.

Stanza 85

The wind blew gently; the sure-footed horse moved forward;
the further it went toward the plain, the higher its spirit rose.
The riders took up their horses' reins; the standard advanced:
was it the banner advancing, or the cypress of the garden of Iram?
The spring breeze arrived bearing flowers:
the procession reached the garden of Karbala.

Stanza 86

Here the hand-crest of the standard gleamed, and there the sun;
the radiance of the one lay on the earth, the light of the other on the Throne.
The eye could not rest upon the gold-strewn standard:
it was a bridegroom's face shining through a veil of gold.
Where the two tall standards stood on either side,
the threads of the sunbeams' lines were tangled.

Stanza 87

Allah! The might and splendour of the army of God!
Even the banners of the hosts of error began to bow.
Girded, beneath the standard, stood the young men of Hashim's line,
the adornment of the world, the honour of the faith, the soul of all creation.
Each one of them was a lamp of Ali's line;
theirs was the garden that surpassed paradise.

Stanza 88

Those seven or eight boys, straight as cypresses, jasmine-cheeked,
some with two locks falling by their faces, some with four;
the awe of Haidar shone from their narcissus eyes;
if they played with their short swords, they would hunt down lions.
Their moon-like breasts were thrust out toward the spears;
they had come to the place of festival dressed as bridegrooms.

Stanza 89

From the balconies of paradise the houris watched and said to one another,
"The garden of the world too is a wondrously pleasant place!
Recite blessings and look toward the Imam's army:
this one, of heavenly majesty, is the very image of Mustafa;
the one holding the banner is the son of God's friend;
the fellowship of the Prophet and Ali still endures in the world."

Stanza 90

"When the Prophet of the age departed from the world,
we thought the world was now bereft of beauty.
How should the old sky not bow down toward the earth?
God has created a young man of wondrous beauty;
all graces find their crown in this handsome one:
God's beloved is on the Throne, his shadow is on the earth."

Stanza 91

Suddenly arrows flew from that side toward the Imam;
[A line is missing in the source.]
from this side the King's thirsty companions went out;
on the wings of the battle the chiefs of the Syrian army lost their heads.
Now the sword was raised high, now it reached below the saddle-girth;
the fighting of each one was the fighting of Malik al-Ashtar.

Stanza 92

The kinsmen of the King of the faith went out to fight in God's way;
they raised such battle cries that the earth began to shake with fear.
Like enraged lions they fell upon the ranks of foxes;
when they drew their swords, the accursed forgot how to form their ranks.
Lightning struck the wings of the army, north and south;
how they fought, plunging into the dark cloud of Syria!

Stanza 93

Allah! The fighting of Ali's grandsons!
The short swords of the two struck as though Zulfiqar were at work.
Whoever blocked a blow with his shield had his shoulder cut through;
there was no counting the wounded, no number to the slain.
So many horsemen they killed in so short a time
that the horses of both were hidden in the heap of corpses.

Stanza 94

Those little hands, those fair wrists,
such deadly speed, such fearsome skill!
The archers, afraid, kept slipping out of their way;
through the armies rose cries for help in the names of the Prophet and Ali.
Their majesty was the very image of the Commander of the Faithful's;
Zainab's lions showed the strength of the Lion.

Stanza 95

With what grace Hasan's handsome young son fought!
Surrounded again and again, he fought like an enraged lion;
in that day's hunger and thirst the moon-browed one fought;
no bridegroom ever fought like this, throwing back his wedding veil.
He showed the onslaughts of the Lion of the Maker,
and, having slain Azraq the Syrian, he slept in the field of slaughter.

Stanza 96

When the sword of Abbas, high as the Throne, flashed,
the Trusted Spirit cried out, "Allah protect us!"
The black-faced Ibn Saad hid among the shields;
the slain blocked every road to peace and safety.
When the lion broke loose, eager to reach the river,
he swam through the waves of swords and took the riverbank.

Stanza 97

The guards of the spring of the Euphrates lost their heads;
in the turmoil the ranks, like waves, could not stand firm;
how many men of evil nature fell into the river and died!
It was as though they had become bubbles, specks of sugar.
Here Abbas, having filled the water-skin, fought with thirsty lips,
as the Prince of Arabia fought at Nahrawan.

Stanza 98

A calamity too was the fighting of the brave Ali Akbar;
in his anger he sprang on his prey like a famished lion.
All the proud were brought low, all the mighty laid beneath him;
on every side of the wilderness lay heaps of the wounded.
The heads of those who were hot for battle came off their bodies;
in fighting he even somewhat surpassed Abbas.

Stanza 99

Swords rained down from morning until noon;
the earth kept shaking, the heavens kept trembling;
the angels trembled on, folding their wings.
Then there were no more those battle cries, nor that flashing of swords;
the shields had had their turn, the lances their height;
at the hour of the noon prayer the army came to its end.

Stanza 100

The Prophet's grandson himself carried back the bodies of them all,
so that the killers could not cut off the head of any martyr.
"May God not show even an enemy the loss of a friend!"
he was saying; "Alas, alas, they have all been parted from me!
Who would not be bowed if so many mountains fell on him?
Though I live a hundred years, such a gathering will never come together again."

Stanza 101

The bodies of them all lay round about, and in their midst the Imam;
the Prophet's cloak he wore was all drenched in blood;
dejected, grieving, distraught and thirsty,
the din of the enemy's drums of victory was a lance in his heart.
Whenever the enemy named any of the martyrs,
he would tremble and hold his heart with both hands.

Stanza 102

Ask only him whose heart bears so many scars:
the garden that had a lifetime's care was plundered.
Now there is no respite from weeping, no relief;
the lamps that were the light of the house have gone out.
The sun beat down on all their shattered bodies;
there was not even a sheet over Ali Akbar's body.

Stanza 103

From the field of slaughter the King of the age came to the door of the tent,
but from the fierceness of his thirst he had no strength to speak;
laying his hand upon the curtain, he called out in deep sorrow,
"Sister, bring Asghar here from his cradle;
let me see this shining moon once more;
let me see Akbar's infant brother."

Stanza 104

The Prophet's family ran out of the tent bareheaded;
the mourning Bano brought Asghar in her arms.
He took the child and sat down upon the ground;
when his lips touched the child's face, that silver-bodied one stirred.
The knife of grief cut through his torn heart;
Husain sat the child upon his pure knee.

Stanza 105

The King, whose throne is the sky, was attending to the child;
on the other side, in ambush, lay the wicked son of Kahil.
When that shameless man shot his three-bladed arrow,
at once the little one's neck became the target.
When the infant writhed, the revered one sighed;
the innocent was slaughtered in the King's lap.

Stanza 106

When that infant had writhed and died,
in his misery he dug a tiny grave with his sword;
burying the child, that man of dignity cried out,
"O pure earth, guard the honour of your guest;
keep him in your lap, if you have love for Ali:
he is Fatima's treasure, he is Ali's trust."

Stanza 107

Saying this, he came against the army, weighing his sword in his hand;
his eyes were blood-red from weeping, his face flushed red.
With great glory and majesty he had put on
the pure shirt of the Prophet of mankind;
the shield was Hamza's, the sword was that of the King of La Fata;
the mail on his body was that of the Messenger of God.

Stanza 108

Clad in mail he was a Rustam, and his horse was armoured;
fierce, patient, light of step, faithful by nature;
how handsome its saddle, worked in gold and silver!
The dust of its hooves was an elixir to whoever it touched.
Good-natured, bred in the house, of the breed of Duldul:
Shabbir was generous, and his horse was generous too.

Stanza 109

How can I describe the heat of the day of battle?
I fear my tongue may begin to burn like a candle.
Such a hot wind that men cried 'Beware!', such heat that they cried for mercy!
The ground of the battlefield was red, and the sky yellow;
on the earth all creatures longed for cool water;
it was as though fire were raining from the air onto the ground.

Stanza 110

That hot wind, that blaze of the sun, that heat and fever!
From the sun the colour of the day had turned black as night.
Even the lips all round the river were parched;
the tents of the bubbles were burning, every one of them.
Dust was flying; the spring of life had run dry;
the water of the Euphrates had boiled in the sun.

Stanza 111

Till evening the beasts would not rise out of the lakes;
the salamander had made its home where the fish dwell;
the deer had grown sluggish, and the leopards were burnt black;
stones had melted like raw wax.
The red had faded from the flowers, the green from the grass;
the water had sunk deep into the wells, longing for shade.

Stanza 112

For miles no tree had flower, leaf or fruit;
every palm was burning like a plane tree.
No flower laughed, no meadow gave off its scent;
every fruit-bearing branch had become a thorn.
The heat was such that all hearts had grown cold to life;
even the leaves were yellow like the face of a consumptive.

Stanza 113

The animals would not lift their mouths from the running water;
the birds kept hiding here and there in the wilderness;
the pupil of the eye, within its seven veils, was soaked in sweat;
the gaze would not come out from the cool shelter of the lashes.
If it left the eye and stopped along the way,
a hundred thousand blisters would form on the feet of sight.

Stanza 114

The lions would not stir from their thickets for the sun;
the deer would not put their heads out of the meadows;
the mirror of the sun was clouded with dust;
the sky had caught a fever from the earth's burning.
The whole world upon the earth was in torment from the heat;
any grain that fell to the ground was roasted.

Stanza 115

Whirlpools looked like wheeling firebrands;
the bubbles were embers, and the water threw off sparks;
every wave had its tongue hanging from its mouth;
the crocodiles all lay on the river bed, but with their lives on their lips.
Water was fire; it was the heat of the Day of Reckoning;
any fish that rose to the skewer of a wave was roasted.

Stanza 116

The mirror of the sky could not bear the burning of that fever;
the lightning wanted to hide in the skirt of the clouds;
all this had made the hot-tempered restless;
the sun went looking for the camphor of dawn.
Fire blazed in the dome of the sphere of fire;
the clouds had all hidden in the sphere of bitter cold.

Stanza 117

In that sun the King of the nations stood alone;
he had neither the Prophet's skirt nor the shade of the standard.
Flames of sighs rose from his heart again and again;
his lips were blue, there were thorns on his tongue, his back was bent.
Since this was the guest's third day without water,
his tongue stumbled at every word.

Stanza 118

All the horsemen were watering their horses;
camels came down to the landing in long strings;
birds beyond number came and drank the river's water;
the water-bearers sprinkled the ground again and again;
to give water to beasts wild and tame was a good deed;
for the son of Fatima alone there was a famine of water.

Stanza 119

Ibn Saad held a golden parasol over his head;
several servants were waving fans this way and that;
water-sprinklers wet the ground again and again;
over the son of Fatima there was not even the shade of a tree.
That sun of the wilderness, that fierce blaze of the sun!
The blessed complexion of the noble one had grown dark.

Stanza 120

Ibn Saad would say, "O you of heavenly rank,
if you give your allegiance even now, a cup of water is ready."
Husain would answer, "O ruined wretch!
The son of Abu Turab counts the river as dust.
You are a sinner; you have no regard for Islam;
were this the water of immortality, it would be nothing to me."

Stanza 121

"If I but say the word, Khaleel would come at once with a tray;
if I wished, in a moment I would make Salsabeel a public fountain.
Will you give me a cup of water, you wretch,
you disgraced, mean, tyrannous, base miser?
Any flower your shadow falls on loses its scent;
if you had a vein opened, it would never yield blood."

Stanza 122

"If I name Jamshed, he would come at once bearing his cup;
Kausar would come here bearing the Messenger's command;
the Trusted Spirit would come down to earth bearing my name;
an army of angels would come bearing the news of victory.
If I willed upheaval, the world would come to an end;
the earth would be overturned, so that there would be neither Kufa nor Syria."

Stanza 123

When, having said this, he glanced toward Zulfiqar,
that tyrant trembled and stepped back on his heels.
From the ranks countless arrows flew at the wronged one;
the sound of the war-drum rose beyond the sky;
the horsemen raised their lances, bent on battle;
the black banners of the black-faced army were unfurled.

Stanza 124

That thunder of the war-drums, that blare of the trumpets!
The ears of the cherubim had gone deaf with the noise;
the earth shook so that the sky lost its wits;
the mail-clad horsemen came out brandishing their lances;
the shields of those ill-omened horsemen were held over their heads
like a dark cloud rolling over the desert.

Stanza 125

Then, reciting a few verses of battle-song, the King of the faith advanced;
the Trusted Spirit came forward to hold the world steady.
Like a lion he now halted, now advanced,
as though Ali were advancing with his sleeves rolled back.
The brave one showed himself to the bride of battle;
the sword of the Remover of difficulties left its sheath.

Stanza 126

That fiery-natured sword came out of its scabbard
as a beauty breaks from a lover's embrace,
as a ray from the moon, as scent from the flower,
as breath from the breast, as blood from the vein of life.
When the thunder roared, lightning sprang from the cloud;
when breath was stifled in the litter, Laila came out.

Stanza 127

Husain came on as an eagle swoops,
as a fierce lion of the thicket falls upon a deer,
as shining lightning darts toward the clouds;
his horse ran as water runs downhill.
So the sharp sword flashed upon that host,
as lightning, writhing, strikes a mountain.

Stanza 128

When the lightning sword flashed in the heat, sparks flew;
when the gust of its wind went by with a hiss, heads flew;
when fragments of shields flew this way and that,
the Trusted Spirit plainly took them for flying feathers.
The marks of the powerful Name became visible:
the feathers on which 'Ali' was written became shields.

Stanza 129

Whomever that sword fell on, it cut in two;
drawn back, it cut him again into four pieces.
It was there, wherever death pointed it;
if some hardness met it, it bore that too.
There was no saddle left on the horse, no rider on the saddle;
the links of mail lay scattered on the ground.

Stanza 130

Flashing, it came upon the throng and brought heads down;
in a moment it levelled the firm-set ranks;
it brought every vertebra of their bodies to the ground,
as a flood comes roaring in and brings down houses.
Whoever came to its landing stayed there dead;
a river of blood flowed from the water of the sword.

Stanza 131

Such lustre, such scattering of flame: the glory of God!
Fire in water, water in fire: the glory of God!
Silent, yet so sharp of tongue: the glory of God!
Such flowing in still water: the glory of God!
When it rippled, the swollen river sank down;
the water of Zulfiqar had risen lance-high.

Stanza 132

The centre and the wings, right flank and left, destroyed;
the haughty ones of the community of the Best of Creation destroyed;
the earth shaking, the ranks overturned, the flanks destroyed;
bodies lifeless, the soul a traveller, its lodging destroyed.
The markets were shut and torn down;
the armies were destroyed, the quarters laid waste.

Stanza 133

Allah! The keenness and the cutting edge of that flame-coloured sword!
When it flashed on a rider, it brought news from his saddle-girth;
thirsting only for blood, eager for battle,
it had no need of whetstone or of grindstone.
It filled the sky with blood and the field with corpses;
a hundred times in a breath it rose to the heavens and came down.

Stanza 134

It was the sword of autumn: what was the garden of life to it?
One whose own house lies in ruins, what is a town to him?
It showed the truth: what was unbelief to it?
What is lowliness to one who stands high himself?
What men call straightness goes with its curve;
its keenness goes with its tongue, its cutting with its edge.

Stanza 135

When it struck a breast, the heart turned to blood,
as if the claw of death had sunk into the liver;
when it flashed, a cry for mercy rose on every side;
whoever came before it was put to shame.
Not one of its blows could be stopped by ten men, nor by five;
faces had turned black from its heat.

Stanza 136

Wherever it went, rank upon rank was laid flat;
it flashed on this side, came over here, went over there;
the army on both sides cried, "Where has it gone?"
one said, "Here!" another cried, "There!"
The swordsmen did not know which way it faced;
heads were falling, and the bodies did not know.

Stanza 137

The enemies at the landing were washing their hands of their lives;
heads were parted from necks, hands from the banners;
now it broke a heart, now it pierced a hand with the spear-point;
once hands are cut off and fallen, where can they come back from?
Now they have no hands left to hide their faces;
yes, only their feet are left, to run away.

Stanza 138

Allah! The dread of the sword of the King of creation!
From fear the courage of the Euphrates had turned to water.
At the river every evil-natured man was in such a state
that he could neither flee nor stand his ground.
The cry went up: "Lightning is striking every man in mail!
Run! The river of God's wrath is in full flood!"

Stanza 139

Though the fish were clad in mail from head to tail,
they went about hiding here and there with open mouths;
the wave had fled, leaving behind the shield of the whirlpool;
the crocodiles had sunk to the bottom, but their hearts had turned to water.
In fear of that lightning-bright sword the river would not have stopped running,
but its feet were covered with the blisters of bubbles.

Stanza 140

Wherever it swept with a hiss, it was God's wrath arriving;
from the battlefield the cry for mercy reached every ear;
cleaving the helmet in two, it came down through the mail onto the saddle;
dragging on, it came through the horse to the ground.
When the lightning of the noble one's sword fell to earth,
the cry 'O Abu Turab!' came up from the ground.

Stanza 141

Crushed in the struggle, the bowmen died;
the bowstrings all stayed strung, but the arms came off;
the tips of the bows were cut away, the arrows lost their feathers;
there was no surviving on the field; they passed away.
The bird of imagination had lost its wits in terror;
the arrow-notches gaped open their mouths in fright.

Stanza 142

Those whose archery was famed in every city,
who found no hiding place except the grave,
who on a dark night could hit an ant's foot,
were struck blind in that army by fear for their lives.
The army whose banner was error had lost its wits;
they set the bowstring to the arrowhead, taking it for the notch.

Stanza 143

Rank fell upon rank, wing upon wing, front and rear;
rider fell upon rider, horse upon horse;
if five rose from the ground and fled, ten fell;
scout fell dead upon messenger, messenger upon scout.
The wings broke; the foundation of tyranny was overthrown;
seldom has such a calamity befallen the world.

Stanza 144

The fierce lion of the desert of Karbala was in a rage;
the wolf had abandoned its haunts and its lair in Karbala;
the sword of Ali was arraying the battle of Karbala;
nowhere in Karbala was free of heads.
The town of the dead was peopled; the villages lay desolate;
the ground was made of corpses, and there were mountains of heads.

Stanza 145

Among those the warrior had brought beneath his sword
there was a strange struggle beneath the old sky:
the bowstrings shrank away beneath the thumb-rings;
the bow bowed its head and hid beneath the arrow.
Where was the splendour of that unsparing sword not seen?
All were terrified, yet there was no corner of safety and peace.

Stanza 146

On every side the twang of the royal bows;
again and again a rain of arrows from the cloud of Syria;
that clamour and crying of the piebald and the bay;
that hot wind, that blaze of the sun, that battle!
The field of hatred was burning; no heart was at ease;
ask Husain about the heat and fever of that day.

Stanza 147

On this side the water-bearers went about with their water-skins, calling,
"The market of battle is hot, and the afternoon is wearing on;
whoever is thirsty, let him cool his heart with water!"
The wicked ran and ran and fell upon the water-skins.
What fire had seized this wretched world!
All were drinking; Husain was longing desperately for water.

Stanza 148

In that heat his thirst was such that his heart was scorched;
now he cried out 'Ah!', now raised his shield before his face;
a pang shot through his eyes when his glance fell on the sunlight;
now he sprang this way, now charged that way.
Drops of sweat stood thick upon his pure face;
pearls kept raining down on the dust of the field of slaughter.

Stanza 149

Those who had drunk their fill hid from the fighting of the thirsty one;
the single sword of Ali moved in a hundred thousand ways;
when it flashed on a head, it came out at the saddle-girth;
neither shield nor iron nor stone could stop it.
The Creator had given it an edge of wondrous lustre;
before it a helmet was no more than the blister of a bubble.

Stanza 150

They were so terrified that no one knew
which way the arrowhead was and which the notch;
the bows so feared the men's pulling
that they sought out corners, bowing their heads to the ground.
No one had the nerve to draw an arrow from the quiver;
whoever laid his hand on his sword had no head left on his body.

Stanza 151

That leaping of the horses, that flashing of the keen sword!
Whenever it sprang and bounded, hundreds of ranks were crushed;
among a hundred thousand not one had the strength to fight;
on every side there was a clamour of flight upon flight.
The swords that Zulfiqar had notched like saws
had all turned their faces away from the battle.

Stanza 152

From the leaping and bounding of the horses rose a yellow dust;
the heavens were filled with it as an hourglass is with sand;
the azure enamel of the sky had become a heap of dust;
for miles the valley of battle was pitch-dark as night.
The world-illuminating sun was hidden from sight;
the afternoon was wearing on, yet it was neither night nor day.

Stanza 153

Allah! The majesty of the noble one in battle!
In his sun-darkened face shone the radiance of the sun;
those dry lips were like the petals of a rose;
on Zuljanah sat the very image of Abu Turab.
When he raised his battle cries, a shout went up:
"Run! The lion is roaring by the riverbank!"

Stanza 154

Then the cry went up, "Help us, Husain!"
Husain's fighting was the wrath of Allah.
"The river is Husain's, the riverbank is Husain's;
the world is Husain's, the whole creation is Husain's.
It was you who saved Noah's ark from the Flood;
now have mercy, for the sake of Akbar's soul!"

Stanza 155

Hearing Akbar's name, he felt a spear-point in his heart;
his eyes filled with tears; he reined in his horse.
Turning, the King of the age called to his son's body,
"You did not see your father's fighting, my darling!
These people are adjuring me by your soul;
there, now I hold back Zulfiqar."

Stanza 156

Ibn Saad struck his knee with his hand and cried,
"O shame! This rout after victory!
Breaking their word does not become the brave."
Hearing this, a champion roared like thunder
and shouted, "I will charge the Imam;
Ibn Saad, write down the victory in my name!"

Stanza 157

Tall, thickset, burly and insolent,
brazen-bodied and black-hearted, with an iron waist;
his arrows were messengers of death, his quiver the house of fate;
his shield was one on which a thousand swords had broken.
There was evil in his heart, corruption in his wicked nature;
the wretch on his horse was like a mountain borne on the wind.

Stanza 158

With him came another champion of the same height and build,
with blue-grey eyes, dark skin and a frown on his brows,
an evildoer, wicked by habit, a tyrant full of deceit,
seasoned in battle, who had put the hearts of armies to flight.
Both bore lances, their waists girded for the fight;
the one proud of the blow of his mace, the other of his keen sword.

Stanza 159

One needs a craft that can draw the very shape of battle,
an eloquence to which even every enemy would assent;
the tongue should have the keenness of a sword;
for the writing one needs a pen of steel.
The picture of the battle-line will be drawn clearly
only if the inkwell holds the water of Zulfiqar.

Stanza 160

There was alarm in the army, turmoil in the ranks;
the champions lost their wits; the mighty and the strong were afraid.
They feared: "See, Husain has advanced; now the sword is at work!"
The cry went up: "Here are Marhab and Antar, and there is Ali!
Who will stand high today, and who be brought low?
Let us see whose is the victory, whose the defeat!"

Stanza 161

Then the unseen herald called out, "Yes!
In the name of Allah, O delight of the Prince of Arabia's soul!"
Ali's two-edged sword rose, licking its tongue;
the King of the age settled himself firmly on his horse.
From there that ill-starred man advanced with a battle cry;
here Zulfiqar's mouth began to water.

Stanza 162

All the young men of the army were throwing their hearts into the fight;
that evil-eyed man had fixed his eyes on this side, staring;
the soldiers' shields clashed, or was it the clouds rumbling?
In anger his horse too gnashed its teeth.
When it stamped its hoof, every accursed man stepped back in fear;
the feet of the bull that bears the earth tottered on the fish.

Stanza 163

That arrogant man came at the King, brandishing his lance;
the son of the Remover of difficulties loosened every strap.
When he gained nothing from arrow and bow either,
the bowstring was drawn on that side, and the lofty sword moved here.
Arrows that could pierce stone were cut to pieces;
no tips were left on the bows, no heads on the arrows.

Stanza 164

The tyrant raised his mace and came at the noble one;
wrath came over the son of Abu Turab;
planting his feet firmly in the stirrups, he struck:
lightning fell on the wretch's wrathful head.
Defeat in the wicked hand, victory in the good;
at one stroke a hand flew off and fell several yards away.

Stanza 165

That villain had set off, somewhat flustered,
but how can the prey escape the claws of death?
There he took a gleaming sword in his left hand;
here Zulfiqar came down from his head to the vertebrae of his back.
I would give my life for the keen sword of the renowned King!
The rider lay in two pieces, and the horse in two.

Stanza 166

Then, raising his mace over the second, the King called out,
"Well, have you too seen the blow of Zulfiqar?"
The black-faced man was drunk with the wine of arrogance;
where could he go, when death was barring his way?
As death hemmed him in and drove him forward, the cry went up,
"See, the second prey is heading into the lion's mouth!"

Stanza 167

He was still coming on when the horse of the King of the faith wheeled round;
it was as though a famished lion had pounced.
When the wretch struck his blade on the shield, it fell flat;
then came a blow at which the turning dome of heaven split open.
The crown of his head was driven into the front of the saddle;
the horse sank into the ground up to its chest.

Stanza 168

The fairies fled Mount Qaf, and the jinn their homes;
the lions left the desert, the wolves the forest, the dragons their lairs;
falcon and partridge hid together, heads close in one place;
the creatures of the river leapt out and fell upon the islands.
The mountains shrank back, covering their faces with their skirts;
the Simurgh, trembling and trembling, let its feathers fall.

Stanza 169

A voice came from the unseen: "Well done, Shabbir!
This sword was made for this hand; well done!
Such honour, such fighting, such dignity; well done!
You have shown the power of your mother's milk; well done!
God has made you victorious over all creation;
fighting in God's way finds its consummation in you."

Stanza 170

"Enough now; desire battle no more, O Husain, enough!
Take breath in the air for a few moments, O Husain, enough!
Your horse is panting in the heat, O Husain, enough!
It is the time of the afternoon prayer; enough, O Husain, enough!
No thirsty man ever fought like this in such a throng;
now you must see to the work you owe the community."

Stanza 171

Answering 'Here I am!', the King put his sword back in its sheath;
the army turned back, and doom came upon the world.
But the rebels fitted their arrows to their bows;
the pennants furled round the banners were let loose again.
The friendless Husain was surrounded by the tyrants;
your Master was surrounded by a hundred thousand horsemen.

Stanza 172

Ten thousand arrows flew at his breast from the front;
several hundred struck his chest at once;
lances passed through his side, arrows through his breast;
if he pulled four arrows from his body, ten more struck.
So stood the arrows on the body of the Shadow of God
as the quills stand on the body of a porcupine.

Stanza 173

From all four sides lances were thrust at Husain;
the spearmen had fallen upon Husain;
the killers stood over Husain with daggers drawn;
such pain for Husain, raised in the Prophet's lap!
There was no one to draw out the arrows of cruelty;
he was falling, and there was no one to hold him up.

Stanza 174

One friendless, grieving man among a hundred thousand, alas, alas!
Such honour shown to the son of Fatima, alas, alas!
Those lances, and that side of Shabbir, alas, alas!
Those arrows dipped in poison, alas, alas!
The rebels of the army who were full of rage
emptied their full quivers upon Husain.

Stanza 175

Those who had fled at the time of battle now gathered round;
a stone-hearted man threw a stone at his forehead from close by;
the colour of the Prophet's grandson turned pale with the shock;
his hand was on his forehead when an arrow struck his throat.
The noble one let go of his forehead and clutched his throat;
that arrow came out, tearing through his blessed throat.

Stanza 176

It is written that the cruel arrow was three-bladed;
his mouth fell open, his neck twisted back, his breath stopped.
With tearful eyes he pulled its tip out from the side of the throat;
bending over, he drew the blades out through the back.
When the blood gushed out, the departing breath paused;
when he held his cupped hand beneath the wound, it filled.

Stanza 177

The one-eyed Salmi, an enemy of the faith, was the King's foe;
he struck a sword on his head, so that his brow was split;
Sinan ibn Anas drove the spear of hatred into his side;
one accursed man drove a lance into his flank and ran.
When the revered one swayed on his horse and sighed,
the shrine of the Messenger trembled.

Stanza 178

Now Husain is falling from his horse: O calamity!
The stirrup slipped from his pure foot: O calamity!
His side was split open by a dagger: O calamity!
He bowed in a faint, his turban fell from his head: O calamity!
The Quran fell from the stand of the saddle to the ground;
the wall of the Kaaba sank down, the Throne fell.

Stanza 179

From the wilderness came this cry of Fatima Zahra:
"The community has plundered me! Alas, O Muhammad!
Who is there at this hour to pay the debt of love?
Alas, alas, this cruelty, and he the leader of both worlds!
There are nineteen hundred wounds on his torn body;
Zainab, come out! Husain is writhing on the ground."

Stanza 180

Throwing back the curtain, Ali's daughter came out bareheaded,
her steps trembling, her back bent, drowned in her heart's blood;
beating her head, she cried out on every side,
"O Karbala, tell me, where is your guest?
Mother, my thirsty feet will no longer lift;
hold my arm and take me to his body."

Stanza 181

"At this moment the whole world is dark before my eyes;
people! For God's sake, show me the way!
Where is the Sayyid writhing? Mother, where are you? Ah!
In which direction is the place where the Prophet's grandson is being slain?
Flames of sighs rise from my heart and soul;
who is this, groaning, calling out my name?"

Stanza 182

Who called out, "Sister, do not come this way;
the journey is near now; for Allah's sake, go back into the tent.
Now the boat of the family of God's Messenger is sinking;
O Murtaza, save the boat of these strangers in a strange land!
Do not now leave Husain in the plain of affliction;
O Fatima, hide Husain within your mantle!"

Stanza 183

Ali's daughter went about bareheaded, beating herself;
here the throat of the light of Ali's eyes was being cut.
However much the wicked tried to stop Zainab,
she kept running on, holding her heart.
When, for all their hindering, she reached the place of slaughter,
she saw Husain's head upon the point of a lance.

Stanza 184

Going beneath the lance, that mourner cried out,
"Sayyid, I give my life for your bloodied face!
Alas, alas, brother, the knife's edge has passed across your throat!
Have you forgotten your sister, O keepsake of the Lion of God?
I would give my life for you! You have given up your home at the appointed place;
your lips are still moving in the remembrance of God."

Stanza 185

"Brother, your sister greets you: answer me!
Haidar's daughter is crying out: answer me!
For the Prophet's sake, answer me with your parched tongue!
How will the anguished Zainab live? Answer me!
There is no cure for the pain of parting but death;
now I have no one left in the world to lean on."

Stanza 186

"Brother, where can I bring you back from now? What shall I do?
What shall I say to console my heart? What shall I do?
To whom shall I cry for help, to whom call out? What shall I do?
This is a stranger's town; where shall I go? What shall I do?
The whole world has been laid waste; it has become a wilderness;
where can I sit, when the home itself has become a house of mourning?"

Stanza 187

"Alas, alas, that your sister did not die before you!
Brother, tell me, what did you go through beneath the dagger?"
A voice came: "Do not ask what we went through;
a hundred thanks, whatever passed has passed for the best.
My head is cut off; I am free of all pain;
if there is any, it is only the wound of parting from you."

Stanza 188

"The wicked army will come now to plunder the house;
say nothing with your tongue but thanks to the Maker.
When the tyrants set fire to the tent,
keep watch over my orphaned Sakina;
that broken-hearted child is weary of her life;
let no one bind her neck with a rope."

Stanza 189

Enough, Anees: from weakness every joint is trembling;
these few stanzas will remain for the world to remember;
even in weakness, what lofty stanzas have come from the pen!
Stanzas the world delights in, stanzas that delight a king.
This season and this gathering of mourning will be remembered;
these are the ardours of old age, the spring that comes in autumn.