Jab Ran Mein Sar Buland Ali Ka Alam Hua جب رن میں سر بلند علی کا علم ہوا

Stanza 1

When the standard of Ali was raised high on the battlefield,
The shade of the cloud of mercy fell upon the army of God;
The emerald heavens bowed down in salutation;
Majesty offered itself seven times over in sacrifice to its hand-shaped crest.
Since no one had ever seen a standard of such splendour,
The armies on both sides rang with cries of blessings on the Prophet.

Stanza 2

The grandeur of that standard, the majesty of Abbas!
Beneath the emerald palm stood Ali's beloved son;
Such was the state of the fairies that they gave their lives for its banner;
The cry went up that tresses lay scattered on the shoulders of a houri.
Every ripple of it shone with the lustre of the waves of Kausar;
Even Tooba was overshadowed by the loftiness of the pennant.

Stanza 3

As the light of the Panjtan shone forth in its hand-shaped crest,
Even the pupils of the blind became a home of light;
The specks of dust rose up again and again to scatter their gold in offering;
The angels gazed from above, and mankind from below.
Allah, the radiance of the standard of Abu Turab!
The ray of the sun had become the thread of sight.

Stanza 4

A sacrifice to the grandeur of the renowned standard-bearer!
On his face was the majesty of the King of men, through and through;
His face like the sun, and the gaze of a lion;
Sword in his grip, armour on his breast, shield on his shoulder.
Awe had fallen over the army of Ibn Ziyad;
The cry went up: "The Lion of God has set out to fight in God's way!"

Stanza 5

That loftiness, that majesty, that fortune, that splendour,
That radiance, that grandeur, that dignity, that grace,
That gleam of the hand-crest, that raised height of the standard!
Lightning kept falling on the enemy army moment by moment.
How lofty was that banner bearing the mark of felicity,
In the shade of which banner lay the glory of Tooba!

Stanza 6

Raising its hand, the crest kept saying again and again:
"In the world the greatness of the Panjtan is manifest;
These six directions stand firm by their footsteps alone.
Why are you friends for a week only, O worthless people?
All eight paradises are gained through the name of the Master;
Pledge your allegiance to Husain (a)."

Stanza 7

Peering again and again from the upper chambers, every houri said,
"Blessings be! Is this the gleam of the standard, or the lightning of Sinai?
O Lord, may the evil eye stay far from its radiance.
Is this the hand upon it, or the light of the Panjtan gathered in one place?
All of it is the splendour of the glory of Muhammad and Haidar.
May we be sacrificed for that youth, and given up for that standard!"

Stanza 8

Never before had an army of such beauty been seen.
The world too is an album of excellences, bravo, bravo!
Whom shall we look at, when each one is the envy of the moon?
On whichever face the gaze falls, it does not turn away.
See, it is through these very souls that the earth has its splendour.
What beautiful ones Husain has chosen and brought!

Stanza 9

Great was the fame for beauty of the moon of Kanaan;
We have heard the tale of Zulaikha's love.
Here even the sun has not the strength to look.
Every single youth of this army is a Yusuf.
We used to hear that the created world is ugly,
But such gardens have blossomed that the world is paradise.

Stanza 10

What beauty, what grace has the one who resembles Mustafa!
The dawn of his brow and the night of his tresses are both beyond compare.
These lips, this down, these eyes, these brows, this face, this mole:
ruby and musk and narcissus, star and moon and crescent.
Here a single flower holds a thousand kinds of spring;
do not call it a face, it is the power of the Lord.

Stanza 11

The piece of Hasan's heart too, how beautiful he is,
by the lamp of whose beauty the whole earth is lit!
These musk-scattering locks, this mirror-like brow,
the wealth of Cathay and Khotan, the treasure of all China.
Fairies stand by, taking upon themselves the ills that might touch his face;
their eyes are locked upon every strand of his wedding veil.

Stanza 12

In God's name, how handsome Aun and Muhammad are too!
One is a peerless sun, the other a matchless full moon.
Their faces are aglow, and this is the proof of their valour;
great is their courage, though their years are still few.
Like Ali, they are set upon battle and combat;
the cords of both their short swords are loosened.

Stanza 13

Renowned Abbas too is a youth of wondrous bearing,
on whose radiant shoulder the standard itself takes pride;
the awe of Hamza, the might of Jafar, the majesty of Ali,
the heart of Hashim, the arm of Husain, the life of Hasan.
How should the King whose court is the heavens not love him?
This sun has been granted hundreds of honours.

Stanza 14

Now look at that sun of whom all these are motes:
the crown of heaven and earth, the light of the Lord's Throne,
a cloud of bounty, sovereign of Persia, king of Arabia,
lofty of resolve, Imam of the nations, the thirsty-lipped King.
His parched tongue moves in the remembrance of God;
it is as if the Seal of the Prophets stood on the battlefield.

Stanza 15

What an army Husain had! May I be sacrificed for that army!
Each one the honour of Arabia, the pride of the age,
valiant and a refuge of the faith, distinguished and renowned;
among the boys, some of tender dusky hue, some rose-cheeked.
Did any armies even register in their sight?
They had all been raised in the forest of the Lion of God.

Stanza 16

Each one a king over the realm of courage and resolve,
Saturn their servant, the heavens their retinue, the Throne their court;
Eyes that the gazelle would envy, yet the gaze of a lion,
Such awe in their glances, may Allah protect us!
When they looked, a spear broke through the heart and passed out;
If their brows so much as stirred, a sword was swung.

Stanza 17

That fervour of the youths in their longing for battle!
They were restless: "Let us see when the sword will be drawn."
Those faces like the sun, those throats like the moon,
All of them raised in the laps of Fatima's daughters.
Each one was a lamp at the tomb of the Messenger of Truth;
They were the garden on which Ali had laboured.

Stanza 18

With chests held out as shields they said to Akbar:
"These short swords will not rest without drinking blood.
If we die today, then we live until the Day of Judgement.
May they be offered at these feet; that is what these heads are for.
There is joy in testing the sword before our master;
Today you shall see the spectacle of battle."

Stanza 19

Do not judge by the youth of the servants of the one of firm resolve;
whenever you wish, put us to the test in battle.
Standing tall we will stop the spears, and laughing we will take the wounds;
if lightning falls, we will not flinch and raise a shield before our faces.
If anyone's eyelid blinks, put out his eyes;
if anyone's feet step back after advancing, cut off his head.

Stanza 20

Smiling, the two sons of Zainab said this:
"The mettle of the brave shows itself in the moment of combat.
At every moment we need the help of the Lion of the Lord of Majesty;
if we raise our war cries now, the field of slaughter would shake.
Brave are they for whom the sword was sent down;
we know them all to be lions among lions."

Stanza 21

As those rose-cheeked ones chattered so among themselves,
Shabbir kept glancing at them from the corner of his eye.
The renowned Abbas came near and said,
"Do you hear what these devoted ones are saying?
Daring drips from the words of every one of them;
would these young blades ever be held back by the army of Syria?"

Stanza 22

This age, this force and fervour, these young years, this grace and bearing;
On such innocent faces such valour, such splendour!
Their words are no less than battle-boasts; Allah, how eloquent they are!
Their tongues move like Ali's Zulfiqar.
With what commanding awe they hold the spears upon their shoulders,
As if they had seen and known all the ways of battle.

Stanza 23

Look at Zainab's beloved sons, my lord;
Light drips like sweat from their foreheads.
On their faces the majesty of the Lion of God is fully manifest;
Is it the glow of roses, or is the lightning of Sinai flashing?
In both, the ways of Haidar and Jafar are plain to see;
Allah protect us, their looks are something else entirely!

Stanza 24

This was being said when the drum began to beat on that side;
On this side too the army of the Remover of Difficulties formed its ranks.
The arrows turned towards the son of the King of Najaf;
On this side the warriors made their breasts the target.
Since each one, the envy of the moon, so longed for battle,
The ardour of war surged through Husain's army.

Stanza 25

With anger the faces of the moon-like ones took on the colour of the sun;
their hearts longed to fall upon the armies.
When, drawing themselves up, they grasped their spears for battle,
the piebald and the bay horses grew restless.
Out of respect for the King, the line advanced and then halted,
and every rider's seat grew firm upon his horse.

Stanza 26

One advanced, drawn up tall, kissing the hilt of his sword;
one, swaying, set his lance upon his shoulder.
One said, "What are these hordes of Syria and Rome?
We will cut to pieces Umar ibn Saad and the wretched Shimr.
They are no men who turn their eyes away from a man;
we will return from the battle having made the two of them into four."

Stanza 27

One warrior's gaze locked with the two hundred thousand;
one's curling lock stiffened upon his face.
One's look turned fierce at the din of the drums;
a face reddened, and a frown creased the brow.
One rode out, gripping his steed between his thighs;
one, in anger, stood still, biting his lips.

Stanza 28

Stepping forward, one fitted an arrow to his bow;
One began to brandish his spear with pride and splendour;
One man's battle-cry passed beyond the heavens;
A valiant warrior drew his sword from its sheath.
There was one clamour: "They have made life bitter;
Come, let us fill the river Euphrates with corpses!"

Stanza 29

As soon as the renowned young men heard these words,
The boys stood apart, forming their own band;
Holding their short swords, those who put the moon to shame said,
"O Lord, give defeat to the Kufans and victory to us;
Once our feet advance and are planted in battle, may they never move back;
May we go and plant our standard at the door of Yazid!"

Stanza 30

Abbas was saying to the king, "The lions are enraged;
The arrows have already come from that side; why the delay now?
After two days of hunger and thirst they have had their fill of life.
Master, will these brave men be held back by your servant?
Out of regard for courtesy they are holding back their fury;
They were raised in the lap of the Lion of God."

Stanza 31

Whom is this devoted one to hold back, whom to restrain?
The seventy-two faithful ones are of one heart in dying.
It is wise that you now give leave for battle,
Lest they fall upon the army all at once.
They are enraged at the insolence of the horsemen of Syria;
They heed neither Akbar's word nor your servant's.

Stanza 32

When I restrain them, O you whose throne is the heavens,
They say, "Why did they aim arrows toward the Imam?
The wicked army has girded itself for rebellion;
At the hour of battle, shall the lion's cubs keep to a corner?"
With what wrathful eyes they glare at the accursed ones!
The young ones are so enraged that tears are falling.

Stanza 33

Every single brave one burns with a thirst for daring;
They are in a state of rapture, yet mindful of dying.
In every rank rises the cry of "O Ali, the Guardian!"
They say again and again that the head is a burden on the shoulders.
In their thirst they long for the watering-place of swords;
The fear is that they will die cutting throat after throat.

Stanza 34

With longing, the King looked toward his companions.
Habib said, "All our heads are here as an offering."
The King said, "I too am ready for the journey.
Very well, let each renowned one go forward to fight in God's way, one by one.
This is the path of truth; whoever steps forward
will be the first to go to the court of Mustafa."

Stanza 35

Hearing this glad news, the warriors of the faith rejoiced.
One by one, each brave man set out toward the army of hatred.
When they raised their battle cry like furious lions,
the layers of the heavens trembled and the earth shook.
The tumult of Judgement Day arose from the warfare of the brave;
not only the armies, the whole world was turned upside down by their blows.

Stanza 36

O Allah, how Habib and Zuhair ibn Qain fought in God's way!
It was as if the battle of the Trench and Hunain had broken out.
When those lovers of the Sovereign of the two Easts died,
Husain ran to the place of slaughter, beating his breast.
He went and wept over their shattered bodies
as a brother weeps over the body of a brother.

Stanza 37

When the rank of the old companions was emptied,
The heavens trembled, and the King heaved such a cold sigh.
When the green garden of his kinsmen too began to be cut down,
At times he wept, at times he laid his hand upon his heart.
When several boys were suddenly lost from his hands,
His heart was torn to pieces, as Hasan's had been.

Stanza 38

The battle of Aqeel's grandsons was the wrath of God;
Their blows were a model of Haidar's sword.
The living memorials of Jafar kept the honour of the Arabs;
They were three or four lions who pounced upon their prey.
Like Ali, they held victory and triumph in their power;
Whoever they marked out among a thousand was in their grip.

Stanza 39

The brothers of the rank-breaking standard-bearer came forth;
They displayed all the ways of Ali's fighting.
Elephant-bodied young warriors lay headless in the trenches;
Corpses fell upon corpses, and battle followed upon battle.
The flash of Zulfiqar was passing before the eyes;
Abbas praised every single blow.

Stanza 40

Since his heart was restless for his younger brothers,
He was now beside the King, now close to the army.
His cry was: "Your mother's milk is freely granted to you;
Lions, let your hands not stop, though your bodies are weary.
This is the hour of honour; strive with all your might.
Yes, brothers, come to the aid of your Imam!"

Stanza 41

"Press forward, overturn their wings, and come back having laid their ranks low;
Come back having made a river of blood flow beside the bank.
When you raise your reins, come back only after reaching the far side of the army;
Either come back dead, or come back having driven them from the field.
Yes, warriors, let no trace remain of the army of Syria;
Sons must keep regard for their father's name."

Stanza 42

Again and again Husain would say to his brother,
"Our father's wealth is being plundered, and we look on;
Alas, grief for our brothers will not let us live."
Abbas would humbly reply, "O qibla of the nations,
Now, in our father's place, stands the King of exalted rank;
How could we not give our lives for you, when we are all your slaves?"

Stanza 43

When two lion-like warriors lay lifeless in the path of God,
The Imam grew frail, and his back was bowed.
He was still in mourning when death plundered Hasan's house:
In a single moment both his young sons were slain.
All had passed on; only the Prophet and Ali remained beside him:
Of the seventy-two, Akbar and Abbas remained.

Stanza 44

When the body of the gentle-natured bridegroom came into view,
Blood began to drip from Akbar's tearful eyes.
He cast a furious glance towards the enemy's army,
And came first, weeping, before the King.
In the surge of weeping these words came from his tongue:
"With Qasim, I too shall depart from the world.

Stanza 45

"Since childhood he was never once parted from me;
When we slept, it was on one floor; when we played, it was in one place.
The companion of my childhood is lost, oh, the calamity!
If such a brother dies, what joy is there in living?
My longing is that my body be shattered by swords,
And that my corpse too lie at my cousin's side."

Stanza 46

The King said, "It is true; such indeed is this grief.
May the Creator never give a brother grief for a brother in this world.
How is the breaking of one's arm any less than the coming of death?
Dying again and again, I have lived on in grief for my brother Hasan.
Grief for my father was fresh, joy had departed from my heart;
had the renowned Abbas not been there, it would have been death.

Stanza 47

"After my brother, it was through him that I found the sweetness of life.
The comforter of this helpless one was he, or God Himself.
I never found a single word of his empty of love and kindness.
When I slept, he passed the night keeping awake.
He made my heart forget the blows of parting from Hasan;
he did not let me weep in mourning for my brother.

Stanza 48

"His closeness has a delight unlike any other:
the joy of a son, the pleasure of a brother, the delight of a father.
In his every word, at every moment, there is a new delight.
If he is out of my sight, what joy is there in living?
May God preserve him, for he is a token of Ali;
he is the master of this house, he is the life of this body.

Stanza 49

If you are the strength of my heart, he is the might of my arms;
If one of the two is parted from me, then I stand at the edge of the grave.
The brine of tears is salt upon the wound of the heart;
When the pupils are gone, the human eye is blind.
It was because you were at my sides that this helpless one held firm;
When the breath has left the body, then comes the end.

Stanza 50

Through him lives Ali's standard, through you our name;
If both of you are slain, the Prophet's house is undone.
Arranging the burial of the dead must also come first;
After death, let someone at least be of use to me.
If flowers like you are at my grave, the heart will bloom with joy;
It is a dark wrong if a father's grave is left without a lamp.

Stanza 51

Do not speak of separation; its grief tears the heart.
For your father's sake, seek out a shroud and a grave.
This body will be shattered by the swords of tyranny;
Two people are needed to lift my body.
Friends, though no friend be at my head to weep,
Let my son be at my feet, my brother at my head.

Stanza 52

Hearing this from his father, Akbar shed tears of blood.
Abbas spoke up: "May God never show us that hour!
This alone is life: that death should come to us first.
Dust upon the servant who carries his master's body!
Strong hands are meant for the spear and the sword;
Were these hands given to me for such a task?"

Stanza 53

Saying this, that faithful one fell at his feet.
Bending down, Husain said, "Brother, what have you done?
The very image of Mustafa was speaking of Qasim;
the words were addressed to him, so why did anger come over you?
You and I will leave the garden of existence together.
Very well, Akbar will carry my body."

Stanza 54

"Rise from my feet; I would give my life for your affection!
In anger, brother, you forget my love."
Rubbing his eyes upon his feet, that renowned one said:
"Without leave for battle, this humble one will not raise his head.
Let it not be that I am put to shame before the Prophet;
I will die before the noble Akbar."

Stanza 55

"For the sake of Ali's soul, hold Akbar back;
Bind the likeness of the Prophet with an oath and hold him back;
Hold back the light of the eyes of the helpless Bano;
O sun of the faith, hold back the radiant moon;
If I am given leave first, my name will be greatly honoured;
Master, he is a prince, and I am a servant."

Stanza 56

The King said, "At least lift your head from my feet;
Take your leave for battle, and do not shed tears;
Whether I die or live in this separation, well then, go;
Go and meet your Sakina, dear as life;
See your wife as she beats her head;
Look upon your children once more."

Stanza 57

Abbas rose and circled the King seven times;
The dignified King set off, taking his brother into the household.
A swift courier of the tyrannous army said,
"Look, the renowned Abbas has received leave for battle;
I have seen this myself and turned back from the road;
He has gone into the tent to meet the King's womenfolk."

Stanza 58

"The Imam walked ahead, holding his waist with his hands;
at every breath his cry was, 'Now I am finished.'
Block the landing with swords: that man of good name has come.
Now the battle is a battle unto the grave, O people of Syria.
Take care, keep yourselves safe, for the fight is with a lion;
only with great difficulty will the riverbank be freed from that brave one."

Stanza 59

The hearts of the army sank as soon as they heard this news.
The stout-hearted young men trembled like willows.
In the turmoil, ranks from one side were thrown over to the other.
Drawing back from its bank, the river cried out, "Beware!"
The ranks fell back; such a tumult became visible
that the river, which was in flood, began to flow backwards.

Stanza 60

The entrenchments that had been set up for battle broke apart.
Someone's spear fell to the ground, someone's shield.
Allah, the awe of the son of the Lion of the Lord of Majesty!
The earth trembled; the hair on every body stood on end.
The face of every young man turned pale,
and the field of battle became a field of saffron.

Stanza 61

An uproar rose in all six directions: "This is the day of upheaval;
the son of Abu Turab will turn over the page of this earth.
No army will win victory over this lion;
now the very foundation of the world of existence is ruined.
The onslaught of the arm of the King of Hijaz is a terror;
may the anchor of the earth's ship not break!"

Stanza 62

In fear the wind had gone to one side, the dust to another;
on one side even the men of Khaibar were heaving cold sighs;
on one side the cowards of Kufa were huddled together;
on one side the disgraced men of Syria all stood pale.
The spearmen had fled, abandoning the fight;
the lions had gone off, abandoning the riverbank.

Stanza 63

There was disorder in the army whose way was error:
that rank had fallen into this one, this line into that line.
Those who had fought a hundred times alone against a thousand
were searching for a place of safety on the battlefield.
Faces were pale with fear of Haidar's son;
the cowards had hidden their faces in the veil of their shields.

Stanza 64

With heads bowed down, the men of the enemy army were out of their senses;
some were near Shimr, some were beside Umar ibn Saad.
All of them were saying, "We have lost hope of life;
the blow of the truth-knowing standard-bearer is the blow of Ali.
The arms of this brave man are filled with strength;
the might of the conqueror of Khaibar is in this lion's grip."

Stanza 65

Though there is such trembling and such disarray in that army,
here the renowned Abbas is putting on his arms.
The ladies are distressed, the exalted King is restless;
looking at his brother's face, he weeps bitterly.
His son stands with his collar torn open;
Sakina weeps, holding the dry water-skin.

Stanza 66

When with tearful eyes she looks at her father's face,
the Sovereign of land and sea says this to her by signs:
"Your father is being plundered, Sakina, and you do not know.
If you love me, do not let your uncle go.
Shedding tears, do not speak the name of water;
hold the hem of his robe with your little hands."

Stanza 67

Such is Zainab's state at her brother's distress:
Her veil has slipped from her head and her hair is loose.
Weeping, with a hundred sorrows, she says to Abbas:
"Do not leave the King, O son of the Lion of God!
What are you saying to Sakina, turning your face away again and again?
Brother, where are you going, leaving my brother behind?

Stanza 68

Just look at the state of the grandson of the Prophet, whose foundation is the heavens:
Grief for his son, mourning for his nephew, a throng of despair.
Amid the multitude of the army that knower of truth stands alone.
May I be sacrificed for you, you at least stay beside the exile.
You are devoted to the darling of the Lion of the Lord of Majesty;
It is through you alone that the arms of Zahra's son are strong."

Stanza 69

Abbas says, "If I do not go, what am I to do?
How could I not fulfil what I owe the Imam of the age?
I will overturn the ranks; alone I will do battle with thousands.
This head is for this, that I may sacrifice it at his feet.
Bounty has come to me from the hand of the Sayyid of gracious nature;
Let something at least be done in the world by the strength of my arm."

Stanza 70

One as tulip-hued as Akbar seeks leave from the King.
"Shall the prince die while his servant stays safe?
For God's sake, do not hold me back now, O sister of the Imam;
do that by which my name may be raised.
I am without support: no mother beside me, no father over my head;
I am your servant, at least, though I am not your son."

Stanza 71

Hearing these words, Zainab weeps with her head bowed.
The wife of the renowned Abbas is trembling;
her face is pale, and in her lap is a moon-like son.
Modesty restrains her; she weeps, turning her face away again and again.
It is no moment to hold him back, nor can she speak;
with her narcissus eyes she gazes at her lord's face.

Stanza 72

Weeping, she says again and again to the Lady of the world:
"The renowned Abbas is bringing ruin upon us.
In the matter of her handmaids, my lady has authority;
you say nothing at this moment, may I be your sacrifice.
Speak, if there is any way to hold him back;
now my home is close to being ruined."

Stanza 73

For Akbar's sake, devise some remedy;
Lend help for the sake of the noble Shabbir;
Speak such words that my heart may find some calm.
He is tying on his sash; do not delay.
I have but one heart, and many are the arrows of grief;
Lady, what am I to do? My children are small.

Stanza 74

When Abbas sees the distress of his wife,
The arrow of grief passes through his frail heart.
He weeps himself, but signals again and again:
"Does anyone grow so restless in grief for a husband?
Come, with due respect, before Zahra's beloved;
Do handmaids ever weep before their master?

Stanza 75

You have loosened your braided hair, my lady; what is this, what is this?
Do not beat your head; your moon-faced son is weeping.
We are giving our lives for the son of Khair-un-Nisa;
Is this an occasion for joy, or a place for mourning?
Patience in affliction is the work of the courageous;
My honour is at stake, and your good name as well.

Stanza 76

Come, wipe away your tears, for the sake of the Lord of Majesty.
Look, too much weeping will only grieve me.
Never give a thought to my parting from you.
May the son of Fatima remain your guardian.
You must not grieve, nor sigh and lament;
you must pray for the safety of the King.

Stanza 77

A hundred slaves like me are a sacrifice for the son of Fatima.
Take care that the Imam does not see you weeping.
Will you ruin my task by shedding tears of blood?
I fold my hands to you; this is a time for patience.
If his honour asks what you will accept,
then say, my lady, that you accept widowhood.

Stanza 78

See, there are three or four other widows in the household too.
Out of respect for the King they are silent; none of them is distraught.
The wise do the deed that keeps their honour intact.
The world is impermanent, and time has no constancy.
What separations have not come about in a single moment!
My lady, has anyone ever lived forever in this world?

Stanza 79

"Look at Qasim, and turn your gaze toward Kubra:
the night passed, and by morning her home lay in ruin.
May Allah not show even an enemy such a wedding.
How patient is the daughter of Shabbir, well done, well done!
This is how the cruelty of widowhood is borne in the world:
does anyone hear even the sound of her weeping?

Stanza 80

This is how noble ladies keep patience in calamity;
the patient are put to the test in times of affliction.
Let the heart burn, but let no smoke of a sigh rise;
do not let even a cry pass your lips, though life itself reach them.
Let it be told what she achieved at the hour of need:
Ali's younger daughter-in-law made Ali's name great."

Stanza 81

When her husband had spoken these words with tearful eyes,
that woman of courage fell silent and bowed her head.
Arming himself, the renowned Abbas
came near the beloved son of the Chief of Mankind.
From the shock, the colour of the Prophet's grandson turned pale;
his hands and feet trembled so that his body went cold.

Stanza 82

The nearer the renowned Abbas came,
the more restless Husain grew, holding his heart.
Bending this way and that in his agitation, he said,
"Ah, this blow to my back will not let me live;
life has turned bitter for the light of Fatima's eyes.
Zainab, where are you? Come and hold up Husain.

Stanza 83

"Tell all the daughters of the house to come to me.
Where is Bano? Let them call the wife of Abbas.
Let them quickly bring thirsty Sakina in their arms.
Now I must depart from the world; let everyone come and see me.
This young man will take care of you when I die;
I will commend each one of you to Abbas."

Stanza 84

Hearing this, all the ladies came, in this wretched state.
Bowing at his feet, the illustrious Abbas said this:
"O sun of all the worlds, light of the Creator,
here the cry 'Is there any challenger?' rises again and again.
It is the way of the sun to cherish the humble mote;
Master, why this delay where your servant is concerned?

Stanza 85

The boys have made their names in the battle;
am I not your own special servant, O King of mankind?
Will there ever be another day like this, O Imam?
Of what use is the servant who is of no use today?
It is hard for a brave man to hold back at such a time;
after all, I am the son of a lion such as the Lion of God.

Stanza 86

Had your servant been sacrificed first of all,
the soul of Abu Turab would have been pleased with this humble one.
Now before everyone I am drenched in shame;
I am ashamed before Zahra, and ashamed before Shabbar too.
If even now I do not take sword and arrow upon my body,
tell me, my Master, to whom will I then show my face?

Stanza 87

If I do not bear the cruelty of being slain along with you,
will the holy Prophet be pleased with me, or displeased?
Will not the heart of the King of La Fata turn away from me?
Will Fatima then call me a man of loyalty?
No delight would remain in dying, nor any savour at all in living;
when a man's honour is gone, what is left?

Stanza 88

O grieving King, it is you who raised me;
You have always spoken to me with love;
It was you who had this sword girded at my waist;
You granted me honour and esteem among all.
It is the hour of need; help me today as well,
And, counting me your servant, now set me free.

Stanza 89

Shaking his head, the King said, "Alas, what shall I do?
It is a hard ordeal, my own; by God, what shall I do?
This soul-wasting grief will not let me live; what shall I do?
My noble brother now parts from me; what shall I do?
Even a moment's life has become hard for me;
All were already displeased with me, and now even death has turned from me."

Stanza 90

The warrior laid his head at the feet of the King of the faith.
Embracing him, the Emperor of land and sea said,
"O life of my body, O source of my heart's strength,
If this is your wish, then so be it: depart from the world.
When a brother is gone, a brother is left in ruin;
Very well, you set out, and my foot too is now in the stirrup."

Stanza 91

Weeping, that brave one bowed down in salutation.
All wept when he placed the water-skin on his blessed shoulder.
The wife of Abbas heaved a cold sigh.
From the shock her colour was pale and her body trembled.
Her veil too slipped from her head and fell to her shoulders.
Beside Bano she fainted and fell upon the dust.

Stanza 92

That lion came out of the tent bearing the standard.
Victory came to pay homage, bringing its army and retinue.
Courage stepped forward and kissed the double-edged sword.
Aid kissed his hands, and triumph touched his feet.
The splendour of the sun fell from all eyes.
Good fortune circled round his head like a huma.

Stanza 93

That adorned steed came, swift in its pace as Buraq,
Which stood ready to fly to the heavens like a bird.
From fear of it the gazelles were thrown into distress.
Should the army of evil try to stop it on the field, it would pass unharmed.
The fierce wind can never catch the dust of its hooves.
However men may search, this fairy is never seen.

Stanza 94

That beauty and adornment of the saddle, that harness, that elegance,
As a bride is adorned with her jewellery;
Its black eyes taunted the eyes of the deer;
Such was its speed that deer forgot how to leap;
It was magic, it was a miracle, it was a fairy, it was an enchantment;
It was no armoured caparison, but the body of Tahamtan in mail.

Stanza 95

Haidar's dear son set his foot in the stirrup;
The crescent moon proudly kissed his pure sandals;
When the one of lovely face lent radiance to the seat of the saddle,
The peerless steed waved its tail like a royal whisk.
With what grace it moved, the envy of the gazelle of Khotan!
It was a peacock setting out for a stroll toward the garden.

Stanza 96

With its fragrance the pure land became the gardens of Paradise;
The dust, rising, became rouge on a cheek like Laila's;
With its splendour the path of the desert of affliction became the Milky Way;
The specks of dust became stars, the earth became the sky.
If the hooves were full moons, the four horseshoes too were crescents;
From the prints of the steed's hooves came thousands of crescents.

Stanza 97

That awe, that kingly majesty, that youth,
By whose grandeur the sun itself was trembling;
Such God-given dread that a lion's gall would turn to water;
Peerless in might, the chosen one in the register of courage.
In his bearing are all the ways of the friend of God;
His splendour proclaims that he is the son of Ali.

Stanza 98

When he reached the plain of hatred, urging his horse on at speed,
He raised his hand to the horse and called out, "Enough."
When he saw the ranks drawn up to left and right, in front and behind,
He cried out, "I long to go to the river.
Whoever stops me will fall into the clutches of death;
Move aside, all of you, for the lion will go down to the riverbank."

Stanza 99

"Let him come out and stop us, if anyone has the strength;
Let him draw his sword from its sheath, if anyone has the courage;
Let him spur on his steed, if anyone has the fire;
Let him come, if anyone has the power for battle and blows.
In two strokes the son of Ali cuts clean through;
We are no river to be held back; we are Zulfiqar."

Stanza 100

What are you? Were a mountain in the way, we would move it aside;
We would drive the very lions out of the river's lowland;
In the hour of battle and strife we would give not one a moment's respite;
Water is nothing; we would drive our horse into fire.
Those who guard the river landing can only stare,
As we cut the river with the sword and carry it home.

Stanza 101

All the defiant are brought low by our might;
Our grandfather was brave, our father resolute, and we are bold;
Whenever battle was joined, we have left heaps of the wounded;
The lions of God have gone and brought water out of fire.
Such are our blows that demons flee;
We have leapt into Bir al-Alam and struck with swords.

Stanza 102

Courage rides in our train, and victory at our stirrup;
We swim through the gleaming edge of swords and take the landing;
The charges of the lions are written in the book;
There are chapters on our strength in the chapter on Khaibar's gate.
We are the helpers of the King whose court is as high as heaven;
We have routed the armies of Arabia utterly.

Stanza 103

When can we find rest without filling the water-skin?
In this heat many children are at death's door from thirst.
Asghar has spent the night writhing in the arms that held him.
What a time this is! Calamity has fallen on Husain's children.
Sakina's very life is in peril;
she showed me the thorns on her parched tongue.

Stanza 104

Here is a lesson to heed: that we should be asking for water!
Seeing the children's distress, we have become the water-bearer.
This water-skin has made us triumphant in the hereafter.
Allah, what honour, that the title 'Bahishti' was bestowed on us!
From the King we also received the standard of the Prophet's army;
along with Tooba, the spring of Kausar too was granted to us.

Stanza 105

He was speaking of this when arrows came from the army.
The wicked raised their spears and came at the lion's face.
He too sprang forward like the King who conquered the fortress.
The earth shook; the honoured Amir came in wrath.
The horse flew on, breaking the wings of the horsemen,
and the sword too leapt from the saddle upon the ranks.

Stanza 106

Was this the coming of the sword, or a message from death?
This rank was the last, that troop was finished.
Like lightning, everywhere, the steed was swift of pace.
Death itself was stunned; on all four sides there was slaughter.
Now on this horde, now on that line,
the shadow of a single sword fell upon a thousand.

Stanza 107

That flash of the sword, that bounding of the steed:
one the likeness of Rafraf, the other of Zulfiqar.
In the rider was the majesty of the King who rode Duldul,
in his charges all the glory of the Lion of the Creator.
The same glance, the same wrath, the same fearlessness,
the same quickness, the same swoop, the same agility.

Stanza 108

He broke this position, overturned this rank, turned this way;
the sword soaked in blood, himself soaked in sweat, he moved about.
Having thus felled the heads of the accursed to the dust, he returned
as a male lion returns from the hunt.
His gaze was one of fury, his splendour was of wrath;
his eyes were deep red, and his face too was red.

Stanza 109

Wherever he turned his face, the army's faces turned away;
He went from here to there, struck down this one, seized that one;
Of a thousand, a hundred remained; of ten, one lived.
By Allah, what vigour! The sword drank blood upon blood,
Yet even so its thirst was not eased in the least,
As if a fire were packed inside its belly.

Stanza 110

Without doubt his hand was the hand of the Chief of Arabia;
In the battle the hand of one thirsty-lipped reached a hundred sides;
Death came whenever the hand of any insolent one was raised;
The lion of the Lion of God struck a fearsome blow.
The two-edged sword came down on the arm, cutting through the shoulder,
And severed the wrist as well, cutting through the gauntlet.

Stanza 111

His hand moved like lightning to the right and to the left;
In terror the followers of error joined their hands in plea.
Against a single blow of his, their thousand hands were nothing;
Four strokes of the two-handed sword were enough for them all.
In all six directions rose the cry of "Seize! Strike!"
It was the grace of Allah; the help was of the Panjtan.

Stanza 112

The war cry was one thing, the shouts of "Seize and carry off!" another,
The bow-tips flew far from the bows, the strings parted from the tips,
Breastplates lay apart on the ground, coats of mail apart in pieces,
Look at the spears, and joint was severed from joint.
Allah, what a parting! Even neck and head were not together;
Why speak of the slain, when even the swords had no breath left in them?

Stanza 113

Whoever his gaze turned towards in the moment of battle and combat,
Death, stepping a little aside from the sword, turned that very way.
His steed wheeled as a mechanism turns at a signal,
And the sword too turned towards the throats at just the right moment.
Who had the daring to face such a brave one in battle?
When he turned like this and looked at rank upon rank, it was swept clean.

Stanza 114

Moving to and fro, that sword cut off hands and feet in such a way
That out of fear the bloodthirsty could not stretch out hands or feet.
If a head was spared, the hands and feet became useless.
It flashed and fell, and four hands and feet became eight.
The souls cried out, "The sword has come again, get out!"
Death said, "Now that you have risen, walk on the tips of your toes."

Stanza 115

Arrows were cut down here, and here spears were cut down,
Quivers split in two, bows in pieces, standards cut down;
In every arm the bone was cut through like a reed pen,
The sword's face was ruined, the spearhead's tongue cut off.
When it came whistling down upon the head of some wicked man,
It was as if a scorching wind had swept over the flowers of the shield.

Stanza 116

Whoever showed defiance, his mischief was put down;
The tyrant who was one in a thousand was made into two.
The Lion's fair hand was sprinkled with blood;
Whoever grew hot for battle was the one laid cold.
It was the end of the army whose abode is Hell;
The water of the sword was putting out the flames.

Stanza 117

That sword would break open even a fortress of iron;
By its hand the heart of the four-plated armour was wounded.
Such blows fell on the faces of the swords that they were notched like saws;
They dashed their own heads, falling again and again.
Its water was such poison that whoever drank it perished;
To this day the heart of the chain mail is riddled through.

Stanza 118

It flew whistling toward every side, again and again;
Riders who had mounted fell from their horses, again and again;
The cry of "Mercy!" rose from the battlefield, again and again;
The burden of every head was lifted from its neck, again and again.
They were plundered, they were ruined, they were stripped of their pomp;
Those who could not withstand the heavy blow, how light they were made!

Stanza 119

No shield held firm, no helmet, and no head was spared;
If the liver was spared, it cut through the heart within the chest;
Whoever escaped it there was cut in two here;
Not one oppressor was left without a wound.
Some were slain by the sword, and some by fear;
He whose body was whole had his heart torn open.

Stanza 120

From the head it reached the waist, and from the waist beneath the horse;
It had the mouth of calamity, the vigour of wrath, the force of tyranny;
The slain lay writhing to the left and right, in front and behind;
Where there were two they became four, where there were five, ten.
The cry went up: "Let him fight whose head is a burden on his body!
Calamity has broken loose; who will come face to face with death?"

Stanza 121

There was an uproar at the mischief of that fire-tongued blade.
The fairies cried out, "May our lives be spared!"
The fire of that other world rains flame upon this world;
Today the very air of the heavens has changed.
The lightning is put to shame; these are the airs of that flame-natured one.
There is a hail of heads, and torrents of blood.

Stanza 122

When it surged forward and swept with a whoosh like the sword of Ali,
It was plain that the blow of the hand of God's friend had struck.
If it struck the hearts unseen, it struck the throats openly.
Leaving the body, the soul cried out, "I am going, I am going!"
The sword called out, "Where do you mean to go?"
Death cried, "Come, this is the road to Saqar!"

Stanza 123

If on dry land it was water, in the wet it was fire.
In valour it was the namesake of Ali's Zulfiqar.
Was it a sword, or lightning in the garb of a fairy?
It was fearless because it was in a brave man's hand.
Blood was lawful to it, and blood-money too was waived.
It had cut a hundred throats, yet it was spotless and clean.

Stanza 124

All the cavalry commanders were brought to ruin;
To whom could they now show their faces, for their faces were disfigured?
The young men who were renowned lost their footing;
When all of them fled, even the banners sank into the ground with shame.
Beside the standards lay heaps of pennants on the battlefield;
The flags on the sand were like corpses in their shrouds.

Stanza 125

The coats of mail they wore, fitting tight upon their bodies,
When the hard blows fell, they too grew utterly slack.
In fear of death they forgot their first pledge;
In the broken ranks no one's hands were steady.
There was an outcry: "Life is lost in this battle!
Run your horses! Fire has broken out on the riverbank!"

Stanza 126

Two hundred thousand evil men surrounded a single soul;
Where could he halt, where find rest, where stand his ground?
Spears were close to his chest, swords near his head,
Spearheads at his side on that flank, and axes on this.
There was no refuge from the ill-starred army;
Arrows flew from every corner, and stones from the trees.

Stanza 127

Whenever an arrow came whizzing toward the water-skin,
He would say, "O Protector!", and at times, "O Almighty!"
Shimr, the cruel and wicked, was shouting:
"The beloved of the fort-conquering king's heart must not get through!
Turn this brave one back from the direction of the tent;
Yes, shatter the lion's chest with spears!"

Stanza 128

Hearing the insolent words of Shimr, given to cruelty,
Abbas pounced like a lion again and again.
There were hundreds of swords and thousands of spearmen;
If he broke this rank, another line stood firm.
Alone, should he hold the water-skin and the standard, or fight?
One set upon by a whole army, what is he to do?

Stanza 129

It is well known that two men are too much for one;
A hundred thousand evil men were set upon one young man.
When he looked that way, he took wounds from this side.
Whose blows could he ward off? Which way could he look?
When he paused for breath, a hundred arrows struck his chest;
Spears tore through his side and came out beyond.

Stanza 130

His chest was a shield, and he held his shield over the water-skin;
Even in the fighting he was mindful of Husain's children.
Swaying upon his horse, that man of noble nature said:
"O Lion of the Lord of Majesty, hold up your son!
Let me get there with the water-skin, if only the way is short;
Let it not be that the boat of the thirsty is wrecked."

Stanza 131

He was saying this when the vast army fell upon him;
The son of the fortress-conquering king was utterly worn out.
When an arrow came and struck between his two brows,
The shining moon of Ali the Guardian reeled and grew faint.
As the reins slipped from his hand, the horse's feet also came to a halt;
Spreading out his arms, he bent over Sakina's water-skin.

Stanza 132

Here, now, it is the end; hear how things stood on the other side.
At the entrance, bareheaded, stands the beloved son of God's Messenger,
His back bent with grief, his face pale, his heart faint.
His anguish is such as comes at the hour of death.
Again and again he fell and rose, writhing, going from one side to the other;
When he cried out in grief, all thought that he had died.

Stanza 133

Crying out, he clutched now his heart, now his breast;
he gripped now the rope of the tent, now his waist;
now, in his distress, he asked for news of his dear brother;
now he wept, resting his head on his son's shoulder.
Now he sighed before the daughter of Zahra;
now, weeping, he clung to his brother's son.

Stanza 134

Groaning, he said to Akbar again and again,
"Press my shoulders, O Ali Akbar, may your father be sacrificed for you.
What pain is this, that my heart finds no rest?
The renowned Abbas has taken away the strength of my arm.
Alas, I have been left helpless and friendless!
With what shall I beat my head? My hands have become useless."

Stanza 135

He cried out, "O life of your brother, enough now, come back;
my breath has reached my lips, come and see me.
Brother, for God's sake, take no more spears now.
Abbas, I am at my end; come quickly.
Your beloved is wringing her tiny hands;
now Sakina is setting out to search for you."

Stanza 136

His Holiness beats his breast, saying this in deep sorrow;
In the tent the wife of the noble-natured Abbas lies in a faint;
At the entrance the whole household stands with hair unbound;
The little children peer out from behind the curtain;
Their lips are blue, their faces are fair;
Tears are in their eyes, and empty cups are in their hands.

Stanza 137

They all say, running their tongues over their lips,
"Now the renowned Abbas is coming with water."
Sakina, with tearful eyes, asks His Holiness,
"When will my uncle come, O King of land and sea?
Will he come only when I have departed from the world?"
Husain soothes her: "Lady, he will come now.

Stanza 138

"A hundred thousand tyrants surround him, alas, alas!
Pray that God may save my brother."
She says, "I give up water; let the water-skin not come;
Alas, alas, now let someone just bring my uncle back!
May God keep Ali's keepsake safe in the world;
What would I do with it? Let such water burn!"

Stanza 139

This was being said when the drums of victory sounded over there;
The emperor of land and sea fell to the ground and writhed.
A few of the wicked came forward from the army and cried out,
"Where is His Highness? The renowned Abbas is dead!
How swords have clashed upon swords in the fighting!
That wounded lion lies in the lowland by the river."

Stanza 140

"Every banner is sprinkled with drops of blood from his head;
Abbas would tremble whenever the standard dipped;
Today the renowned have wiped out a wondrous emblem.
Well, Husain, who will raise the standard now?
His body has been trampled, his wounds have burst open;
The hands that held the strength of Ali have been cut off."

Stanza 141

Then all at once this call came from the direction of the river:
"Master, this devoted servant is passing away;
My wretched life has left my body and lingers in my eyes;
Now I wait only for you to come.
With my father she has come from paradise;
Your noble mother has come to take me."

Stanza 142

The King ran, calling out, "I am coming, dear brother!
My home has been plundered; I scatter dust in grief, dear brother.
I no longer find any strength in my body, dear brother.
At every single step I stumble, dear brother."
His broken hand is laid around his son's neck:
"Brother, it is moon-faced Akbar who is holding me up."

Stanza 143

When the daughter of Ali saw from the doorway this state of the King,
she came a few steps out of the threshold, her hair let loose,
crying, "Who has been killed, O son of Ali?"
Husain turned and said, "Abbas of noble nature -
the army of Syria has slain that brave one at the river.
Zainab, death has snatched away my lion."

Stanza 144

"The sun of the East and the West has passed from the world.
The light of the Sayyid's eyes has passed from the world.
That lover of Husain has passed from the world.
Zainab, our peace has passed from the world.
This restless heart can find no rest;
at the river I keep weeping for my devoted servant."

Stanza 145

Raising her hands, that grieving one called out to Akbar:
"Alas, alas, Husain is left without friend or comforter!
He mourns his young brother; may I be sacrificed for you.
Akbar, for God's sake, keep watch over your father.
If he begins to fall, call on the name of Haidar, the breaker of ranks;
Son, hold your father's hand firmly."

Stanza 146

When Akbar, supporting his father, brought him to the river,
they found the hands of the Master's arm rolling in blood.
The King cried out, "Where is the body? Someone tell me!
My sight has failed me, alas, alas!
Let me weep, holding the shattered body to my breast;
Akbar, show me my brother's body."

Stanza 147

Akbar, weeping bitterly, took the King's hands,
placed them on his uncle's chest, and weeping said:
"Here, this is the body of the faithful standard-bearer."
Bending over the body, the Sultan of Karbala cried out:
"My back is broken; hold Husain up!
Brother, just hold Husain to your breast for a moment."

Stanza 148

"Abbas, your hands are severed from your shoulders; what a calamity!
On the sand, on both sides, all this is your blood.
The Prophet's community has plundered us without cause.
Brother, my life is now leaving my body.
I shall die; give me life by speaking to me.
Open your eyes and say a few words to your brother."

Stanza 149

"Why have you laid these blood-soaked cheeks upon the dust?
Come, let me rest your head upon my knee.
Why do you groan and turn from side to side?
It is clear that your journey from the world is now near.
Alas, alas, the faltering of your tongue is a sign of death.
This is no hiccup; it is life taking leave of the body."

Stanza 150

When, in his swoon, he heard the sound of Shabbir's weeping,
the faithful Hazrat Abbas started up, writhing,
and said softly, "O grandson of Mustafa,
I am devoted to this love, I give my life for this kindness.
It is fitting if my life goes forth to welcome you;
it is as if the Prophet has come to ease my hardship."

Stanza 151

Saying this, he wept and looked intently toward the King.
The King bent down and called, "Brother, say something more."
At the King's feet that victim of tyranny and oppression writhed;
He gasped with hiccups, and the set of his brows began to change.
His tear-shedding eyes glazed over and closed;
Both lips trembled, and his tongue fell silent.

Stanza 152

Akbar said, "Dear uncle has died."
The King bent down and called, "Brother, where have you gone?
Lift your face from the dust; your cheeks are covered in it.
Alas, the grief! You have left Husain without hope.
Who now will stand by the Prophet's son in sorrow?
In a single moment you have abandoned a lifelong companionship."

Stanza 153

Yes, weep, O believers; this is the place for weeping.
The spirit of the Messenger of mankind shares in this with you.
Now comes the farewell of Husain (a);
The date is the eighth; Muharram is coming to its end.
If death comes, who will join in the mourning?
Whoever lives the year through will weep for the King again.

Stanza 154

Had the faithful Abbas died before your eyes,
would you not have offered condolence to the grandson of the Messenger of God?
The Emperor of Karbala is looking at you all;
Zahra too is bareheaded: raise the uproar of Doomsday.
Consider the King of the East and the West a sharer in this gathering,
and offer Husain condolence for his young brother.

Stanza 155

Beat your heads, for now the marsiya comes to its end.
Cling to the holy shrine, crying again and again, "O Imam!"
One as tulip-faced as Akbar is asking his father for leave;
Husain is silent and speaks not a word.
Now, O Fatima, he is slain on the field by tyranny and oppression;
in a few moments the end comes upon the Panjtan.

Stanza 156

Enough, Anees, now draw in the reins of your pen.
This grief wastes the soul; it can never be told.
Tears are flowing from the eyes of the listeners too.
Pray to the Creator: "O Creator of men and jinn,
let me touch the tomb of Batool with my eyes;
show me soon the resting place of the Messenger's grandson."