Kis Sher Ki Aamad Hai Ke Ran Kaanp Raha Hai کس شیر کی آمد ہے کہ رن کانپ رہا ہے

Stanza 1

What lion is coming, that the battlefield is trembling?
Rustam's heart is trembling beneath his shroud;
every palace of the sultans of the age is trembling;
leave all else aside, the ancient sky is trembling.
Seeing the son of Haidar sword in hand,
Gabriel trembles with his wings drawn in.

Stanza 2

From awe, the fortress of the heavens has no bars left on its gates;
even the executioner of the sky looks like a man under guard;
the girdle of Gemini has come loose from the waist of the sky;
the planets are tumbling like birds whose wings are bound.
The pen has slipped from the fingers of Mercury,
the standard has slipped from the grip of the sun.

Stanza 3

Strife and evil themselves are reciting a fatiha for good;
the idols of the temple tremble and say, 'I am a servant';
the soul is altered, the body altered, the dweller altered, the dwelling altered;
the sky does not turn, the planets do not move.
The sky stands stunned with fear, as still as the earth;
nothing is turning now but the fortune of Yazid.

Stanza 4

Lightning lies senseless, but his steed is alert;
all fortunes sleep, but the fortune of Abbas is awake;
the sun is hidden, but his standard is in view;
the moon's face is dark, but his face showers light.
All others are parts; in rank it is Abbas who is called the whole.
Both worlds go on foot; Abbas (a) comes riding.

Stanza 5

Burnishing his staffs of gold and silver, the sun and the moon,
the old man of the sky shifts his back, bent double;
Justice has stepped forward and gives Fate this command:
'Come, tie up oppression, cruelty, tyranny and wrong;
plunder the house of malice, envy, lying and hypocrisy;
cut off the head of greed, avarice, deceit and fraud.'

Stanza 6

Calamity is asking the way to the palaces of comfort;
annihilation is asking for the houses of existence;
Death is asking Destiny how long it has to live;
the army of cruelty is asking where both are to be found.
The heart of Heedlessness started up, shaken with fear;
Strife fell asleep in the embrace of Unbelief.

Stanza 7

The tumult of 'The Rising!' fills the Gathering at this hour;
the cry 'The Trumpet!' goes out now among jinn and men;
head and body speak to each other of 'Parting!';
Hell and the people of Hell raise the cry 'Union!'.
It would be a wonder if the dead did not call out 'The Gathering!';
'Death!' is now on the tongue of the Angel of Death.

Stanza 8

Neither Bahman nor Tahamtan is a match for this one man;
Sohrab, Nariman and Pashan are left without head or body;
like Qarun, Qaran is sunk beneath the earth;
to every lover of the world the world is Bizhan's pit.
Today all have forgotten their rank and lineage,
for today comes the darling of the Slayer of Arabia.

Stanza 9

Every helmet hides itself inside the skull;
armour hides within the breast like veins and sinews;
the colour of the weapons has faded in the army of Umar ibn Saad;
there is no temper in the swords, no sheen on the shields.
So thickly has the colour flown from the face of the accursed army
that neither the face of the sky nor of the earth can be seen.

Stanza 10

The sky cries out that this is the sun of Arabia;
Justice says that silence would be a want of courtesy;
'the sun of the sky' is only a name for the reflection of his cheek;
this is the power of the Lord, the power of the Lord, the power of the Lord!
How could just anyone grasp his honour and rank?
Only one who understands Allah understands this servant.

Stanza 11

He is Joseph in Kanaan, Solomon in Sheba;
Jesus in healing, Moses in prayer;
Job in patience, John in weeping;
Shabbir in suffering wrong, Haidar in battle.
What grief if Adam had neither mother nor father?
Adam has a son like Abbas in the world.

Stanza 12

In his grip he is the Hand of God, in his arm he is Jafar;
in obedience an angel, in nature Hasan (a), in strength Haidar;
in good fortune Hashim, in humility the Prophet,
and in pomp and majesty Hamza, the breaker of ranks.
In showing his mettle he is the Sword of God,
and in giving up his head he is the King of the martyrs.

Stanza 13

Without him the age holds no honour at all;
faith holds no treasure but him;
the Quran itself holds no other story;
Shabbir has no true kinsman but him.
He is the Holy Spirit, only made visible;
he is pure intellect in human beauty.

Stanza 14

When by chance the reflection of his cheek fell on the desert,
the sun's ray drew aside in shame;
the sunlight vanished like mercury on a fire;
all fainted like Moses: what a sight it was!
The light of Sinai uttered nothing but praise;
this light made a wondrous night raid on the sunlight.

Stanza 15

May I be sacrificed to the breeze of the standard of the King of the nations!
Every thorn turned green and became a cypress of Iram;
the secrets of the Creator, Lord of grace and generosity, stand revealed;
Gabriel (a) has spread his wings in the folds of the standard.
Wherever the banner's reflection fell, lightning flashed;
no one ever saw or heard of a banner with such grace and sway.

Stanza 16

There is no breath in the horn, no sound in the bells;
the breath of bugle, drum and kettledrum has flown;
yet the din of every pounding heart is raised;
call it the band playing a salute, and you will be right.
The voice of kettledrum and tambourine stands stunned:
this is the fanfare for the coming of the son of the King of Najaf.

Stanza 17

You have seen his coming; now see his radiant face:
recite 'By the sun', behold the light of Sinai;
look neither at the light of the moon nor of the sun;
behold this candle that angels and houris long for.
What is like the splendour of his radiant face?
Here the light of Sinai burned up like Sinai itself.

Stanza 18

Now the eulogist labours for freshness in his verse:
O Hazrat Abbas (a), son of Ali (a), it is time to help!
Speech made with the master's help is beyond dispute;
whoever will not acknowledge this verse is envious.
I want no reward even from the envious;
my concern is with the court of Husain (a).

Stanza 19

This verse and speech is a garden, not a thicket;
even a rebel has nothing to fear walking in it;
every apt misra is a fruit, not an axe;
here is the kernel of speech, not its veins and fibres.
The art of verse owes its health to my diagnosis;
the pulse of speech is in my hand like a pen.

Stanza 20

If straw is all one gets, what use is it to dig through mountains?
With my colourful speech I turn straw into a rose;
my words have a finer colour than Yemeni carnelian;
this music comes from the burning grief for the King of Medina.
If I soften iron, I make it a mirror;
if I heat a stone, I draw perfume from it.

Stanza 21

Though I have been given a robe of praise from head to foot,
describing his form from head to foot is hard through and through;
every limb of his body is wholly a perfect work of power;
he is spirit from head to foot, heart through and through.
What does anyone gain by quarrelling with another?
My themes, too, clash with no one else's.

Stanza 22

An eclipse hides the sun, rust hides the mirror;
the moon bears a stain, the bright tulip is scorched;
what are pearl and ruby at root? The one is water, the other stone;
look at the rose and the bud: the one is scattered, the other sad at heart.
Truly it was the Judge alone who made this face;
flawless Himself, He made the image flawless too.

Stanza 23

How could anyone call this face the Fountain of Life?
This is light, that is darkness; this is seen, that is hidden.
For years the shining moon has suffered from leprosy;
for ages the sun has had jaundice, and there is no cure.
A mirror is a house of rust; this face is not of that kind:
in this mirror there is colour, and no rust.

Stanza 24

To call his face a mirror is no praise at all:
that is the craft of Alexander, this the craft of God;
there dust gave the polish, here divine power gave the lustre;
to what mirror has fortune given such excellence?
In every mirror a human face appeared;
in this face appeared the beauty of the King of Men.

Stanza 25

In the eyes of the people of certainty he is beautiful beyond compare;
he is the one sun in the heavens and on earth;
wondrous is the show of his eyebrows beside his forehead:
two fish in the fountain of the bright sun.
The eyebrows on his forehead signal this to people:
two new moons are shining in the highest heaven.

Stanza 26

On the theme of his nose, this claim is certain:
it will become the nose on the face of this poem.
When the eye wished to sit upon the Throne,
only the shadow of the nose took its seat in splendour.
One needs the staff of love for this very nose,
for this path is finer even than faith.

Stanza 27

If I call the nose a candle, where is its flame?
I take the radiant eyebrows for flames;
two flames and one candle: this is a place for wonder;
yes, a strong wind blows through the lanes of his locks.
Do not take them for eyebrows; since the wind is passing,
this is the candle's flame, leaning now this way, now that.

Stanza 28

So pleasing is the brightness of this shining face
that every moon of the sky has turned away from the sun;
the fame of his brow has reached the Kaaba of the heavens:
it is the prayer-niche of men, jinn and angels.
When the new moon saw the glory of this brow,
it turned its back on the Kaaba and its face towards him.

Stanza 29

As far as interpretation stands from the true meaning,
so far is his pupil from the Kaaba it is likened to;
between collyrium and this eye lies a mile;
leave the needle aside: the difference is the perfection of light.
Look at the wrath of the people against this eye,
look at the arrow's needle, and look at this eye.

Stanza 30

If I called his eye a narcissus, it would be sheer contempt:
the narcissus has no lashes, no pupil, no sight;
to liken his face to the Eid moon is out of place:
that brings the tidings of Eid, this the good news of Haidar (a).
The new moon has neither the movement nor the light of his brow;
that is a new moon for one night, this is a new moon every night.

Stanza 31

Seeing his face bathed in sweat, the sun was drenched;
from his brow drips the very temper of a sword;
the moisture of his eyes is finer than almond oil;
the sweat of his cheek is the rose-water of the red rose.
See the drop rolling down his radiant face:
see the essence of the sun's rose being drawn.

Stanza 32

Day and night the tongue in his mouth glorifies God,
as if a fresh rose petal lay in the mouth of a bud;
but when did bud or petal have this light?
Here the Fish of the sun passes through its mansion.
When my lips grew moist in praise of his lips,
I held the bank of Kausar while still in this world.

Stanza 33

Now that this mouth has become the refrain of the fair lips,
how narrow the rhyme of the bud has become here!
Now I have set out to praise his mouth,
but the name of bud has become a disgrace for it.
Call this mouth a bud? Beware the masters of speech!
Let anyone smell: an odour comes from the mouth of a bud.

Stanza 34

Among sweet descriptions, the description of this lip stands apart:
one wrote 'sugar', another wrote 'ruby';
writing 'ruby' is the most fitting of all,
but if I can write beyond 'ruby', there is the delight.
The friend of God sucked this lip like a fresh date;
on what day did Ali (a) ever kiss a ruby?

Stanza 35

If there is a life of the eloquent, a soul of eloquence, it is this;
every word in its place: if there is rhetoric, it is this;
if there is a wonder in the Messiah's miracle, it is this;
Delicacy herself admits: if there is delicacy, it is this.
So, when he speaks, the image of speech shows on his lips
as if the vein of a ruby showed through the ruby.

Stanza 36

Now let me write of the true sweetness of his mouth.
When in infancy this very bud of speech opened,
first it gave this news: 'I am the ransom of Shabbir.'
For these tidings his mother blessed him with her milk;
Haidar-e-Karrar sweetened his mouth
and filled it with the sweetness of miracle.

Stanza 37

From this lip every living soul received fresh breath,
as the King of Men raised the Nusairi to life;
it is as if this were the very sign of life given to the dead;
the breath of the Holy Spirit was seen as his companion.
When Jesus breathed breath into a lifeless body,
Jesus was declaring his devotion to the miracle of these lips.

Stanza 38

My God-given wit has wrestled with the string of his teeth;
now let me say something to the point, worth remembering:
these are the pearls of Abbas, and their origin is pure;
Abbas and Najaf are one if you count their numbers.
These are the glory of the mine, the glory of the jewels:
if the teeth are the pearls of Abbas, they are the pearls of Najaf.

Stanza 39

Now let the Twelvers look upon his hands:
in them ten fingers stand in rank like standards;
each hand gives this sign to the devotees of the Panjtan:
'O believers, set up our standard in the Ten Days;
weep first for my master, my commander,
then, beneath his standard, weep for his standard-bearer.'

Stanza 40

The thread of thought cannot reach his hair-fine waist;
thought aside, God forbid that even fancy could reach it;
yet my claim to far-reaching thought does not lapse:
this theme is so delicate it cannot be bound in verse.
Now that he has girded his waist with the spark-showering sword,
Abbas (a) has tied a flame with a hair.

Stanza 41

Now I long for the help of the world above,
for the theme of the standard-bearer's stature lies before me.
This is the lofty stature of the son of the Lion of the Eternal,
or the shadow of Allah the One has taken bodily form.
Who can know the sweep of the two brows above this stature?
God has drawn two madd signs over a single alif.

Stanza 42

A hundred turns of the sky do not equal one wheeling of this steed;
it forever gives the slip to passing time;
it is of a kind beyond the mixture of the elements;
it is the power of Allah, no trickery, no phantom.
It moves at a wondrous pace; the feet of Fate go numb;
call it no horse: this is the wind turned pale and flying.

Stanza 43

As it wheels, every eye becomes a magic lantern;
set in place, its shoes are a quatrain of crescents;
it is plain that Gemini has laid the reins upon its shoulder;
even the theme of its stirrups has no filler.
Its speed is astonishing in darkness and in light:
to it darkness is the moonlight of the fourteenth night.

Stanza 44

It is hard for the sky ever to keep pace with it:
that is the dust of the caravan, this the caravan's leader;
that is weakness, this strength; that is constrained, this free;
this is renown, that disgrace; this is pride, that shame.
In a single leap it leaves earth and sky as far behind
as a traveller at dawn leaves the inn.

Stanza 45

Every drop of its sweat is full of mischief;
in these drops is a fairy swifter than all fairies;
in the garden it is the morning breeze, in the orchard a mountain partridge;
a moth in the lantern, a fairy in the bottle.
This is the huma whose escort is the angels;
in place of a shadow, the seven heavens lie beneath its wing.

Stanza 46

When it halts, the sky seems to all to stand upon the earth;
when it runs, the earth seems to be up in the highest heaven;
the falcon of the air shows not a feather anywhere;
only the rider is seen upon the saddle.
When I praised this rider and his mount alike,
this was the knowledge of God, that the will of God.

Stanza 47

In liveliness a fairy, in beauty a houri of paradise;
in a storm, Noah's ark for its rider;
when did the piebald horse of time have such a good nature?
This is good, that evil; this is beauty, that ugliness.
In the desert it is a garden, in the garden the season of spring;
in the stable a gentle steed, on the battlefield a sword.

Stanza 48

Abbas (a) came, making this steed fly,
came beating the drum of 'Whose is the kingdom?',
came waking the sleepers with the cry of God is Great,
came striking all with the sword of his glance,
the bow of his brow drawn without a string,
the spear of his lashes levelled without a hand.

Stanza 49

The historian has written that a valiant infidel
had been encamped since the seventh in the midst of the army's ranks:
brazen-bodied, stone-hearted, foul within and worse;
having won his campaigns, he had brought many heads on spears;
with the wretch came an army, a drum and a banner;
he was on his way to Syria to claim an estate.

Stanza 50

When fate brought him to the battlefield on the seventh night,
Umar ibn Saad told him this in private:
'We too have a battle before us with the Sayyids;
there are a few devotees of the Panjtan there, and here the whole world.
We fear neither Akbar (a), nor Qasim (a), nor Shabbir (a);
two hundred thousand fear only the Sword of Allah.'

Stanza 51

Trembling, he said, 'Now I too feel misgiving.
Who is the Sword of God?' Umar ibn Saad said, 'Abbas (a).'
He said, 'Then how can you hope for victory?'
He said, 'This lion has been thirsty for many days.
We too are brave and fear no one,
but before Abbas (a), son of Ali, the life goes out of us.'

Stanza 52

When the brave standard-bearer came onto the battlefield,
Umar ibn Saad whispered this to that infidel:
'The lion whose coming we feared has come.'
He raised his head from the ranks towards Abbas (a);
he looked, and trembling said to the army of war,
'You foxes, you set me to fight the Lion of God!

Stanza 53

Granted, he is not God, but he is the power of God;
in me there is mere strength, in him the might of God;
a fine feast you have made of me, by the mercy of God!'
All said, 'On you too rests the favour of God.
Go, make no excuses: the name of men rests on this;
are you less than anyone in majesty and strength?'

Stanza 54

He came out thundering like a cloud,
came out in haste, arraying himself in the weapons of war,
came out forsaking the road of life at every step,
and before him came the kettledrum, beating.
Like Tahamtan he prevailed over the people of the world;
the earth sank wherever he set his foot.

Stanza 55

The bloodthirsty man girded himself and made ready for battle,
and Death's messenger came to say, 'The grave too is ready.'
He took up a dagger to see his face in it, and now and then his sword,
and mounted his horse at once, like the swelling that comes before death.
He on his steed, or a vile demon on a golden throne!
A cry went up on the field: a mountain has mounted a partridge!

Stanza 56

With such a form and such terror came that arrogant man;
even evil spirits shrank from his shadow;
even the field of the Last Day saw a Day of Gathering in it;
he came with the heads of the slain on spears around him.
Not only the living stepped out from every rank to watch:
the heads of the dead had climbed the spears to see the show.

Stanza 57

He shook his spear, now upright, now slanting;
reciting boast after boast, he laid waste the garden of eloquence;
the tyrant dug up the dead of many generations;
he said, 'My terror has torn the hearts of lions;
neither Rustam nor Sohrab is my match in grip;
Marhab son of Abd al-Qamar is my title.

Stanza 58

I tie to my saddle-straps the heads of raging elephants;
I always twist the paw of the fierce lion.
Just look at every branch of these spears:
on this spear is the head of so-and-so, son of so-and-so.
All the champions of old who lived in this new age:
their bodies are beneath the dust, their heads in my train.'

Stanza 59

Here the Sword of God drew the sword of his tongue
and said, 'To make such a speech before me is an outrage;
say one word more and I have cut off your tongue.
Both worlds have bowed their necks at my door;
our strength is the strength of the Lion of God;
in our grip is the strength of the Hand of God.

Stanza 60

You are the scar on the heart of ill-starred Abd al-Qamar;
I am the moon of Ali (a): do you know that too?
Why should I fear your worship of the sun?
The ropes of the sky, the sun and the moon are in my grasp.
My father had the power to turn back the sun;
my uncle split the moon in two with his finger.

Stanza 61

Tell me, whose light is in the shining sun?
Whose creed is written on the page of the moon?
And who is spoken of in the Sura 'By the sun'?
Who has the power to turn a mote into a sun?
The masters of this power are the Prophet (s) and Ali (a),
or we, the servants of the Prophet's (s) worthy heir.

Stanza 62

God forbid! You take the sun and the moon for God:
that one sets at evening, and this one at dawn.
Count love for the King of jinn and men as faith;
to the discerning they are the lamp on the road of the Ascension.
The sun of the children of Fatima is the King of the nations,
and we are the Moon of the Banu Hashim throughout the world.

Stanza 63

One finger of ours splits the moon in two;
our back has touched the Seal of Prophethood;
ours is the sword of victory in the hour of striking and slaying;
one blow of our fist is a hundred maces of death.
We are the lions of the reed-bed of divine power, you tyrant;
we are lions, and masters of the sword, you tyrant.

Stanza 64

All things perish; our age lasts forever;
to lay our heads before God is our calling;
ours is the thicket where the Lion of God dwells;
ours is the axe that leaves death helpless.
We are part of the body of him who is the glory of the whole;
the pure pearl of Najaf is on our string of kin.

Stanza 65

The Jaushan among prayers is our coat of mail;
the knot of my spear is the nail that loosens every knot;
before my sword the heart of high and low turns to water;
this is the sword that cut the wing of Gabriel.
Our head has no need of helmet or cap:
the footprint of Shabbir is our crown.

Stanza 66

Ahmad is my uncle, my father is Haidar (a), the breaker of ranks:
he is the Prophet of all, and this the guide of both worlds;
and my mother is the bondmaid of the mother of Zainab (a);
of my brothers, one is Aun, and two are Abdullah and Jafar;
and Shabbar and Shabbir are our masters:
we are their servants, and they our lords.

Stanza 67

I am a mourner for Qasim, a comforter to Akbar (a);
I am the army's standard-bearer, my master's escort;
when I hold up the screen, the women of the household mount;
at night I was the guard of the tents of the King of the righteous.
Now this is a fresh gift from the eternal God:
I have become water-bearer to her who is the granddaughter of Ali (a).

Stanza 68

We share out the daily bread of every servant of the Forgiving;
we are masters and stewards of the court of the Provider;
yet since obedience to God is needed in every deed,
at dawn, while fasting, we ourselves take the blow of the sword.
We loosen knots, we open hard times, we open fortresses too,
yet with patience we let our necks be bound with rope.

Stanza 69

My head is the ransom for his pure feet,
for whom the Prophet (s) sacrificed his own son;
my heart and soul are an offering to the head of Akbar (a);
my house is a sacrifice to the King's house of honour.
The honour for which Abbas (a) is famed in the world
is the honour of carrying the sandals of Shabbir.

Stanza 70

As soon as we came, we put out the lamp of kings;
everywhere we set up the rule of the Seal of the Messengers;
over the moat we made the fortress gate a bridge;
the creed was one part, and we made it whole.
Make no mistake: all these are the honours of the Lion of God,
and he is not apart from us, nor are we apart from him.

Stanza 71

The man bound for the Fire grew envious of the boast of the man of paradise;
the evil, accursed one came on to attack,
as if Amr ibn Abd Wudd had come up from Hell,
and Marhab too began to tremble in his grave.
God cursed him, Umar ibn Saad praised him;
here Victory and Triumph saluted Abbas (a).

Stanza 72

The heralds pressed forward and called out to Shabbir:
'See, your mighty arm is about to break;
Marhab son of Abd al-Qamar now joins battle;
Shabbir, be sure that Abbas (a) is slain.
This is the wolf, that is Joseph; this is autumn, that the garden;
that is the moon, this is Scorpio; that is the sun, this the eclipse.'

Stanza 73

This clamour wrung the heart of the Hazrat;
he said to Akbar (a), 'Go, bring news of your uncle.'
Akbar (a) went forward, then turned and called to his father:
'Many ill-omened stars have surrounded the moon;
a fresh army is round the standard-bearer on the field;
see, the Moon of the Banu Hashim is going into eclipse.

Stanza 74

A mighty infidel has come with his sword drawn;
he says the matter will be settled in one charge;
the heads of the slain show on spears around him;
here, hand on hilt, the standard-bearer smiles.
May Allah keep him safe, for that man means evil;
they all call him Marhab son of Abd al-Qamar.

Stanza 75

The cry goes up that Marhab will break the heart of the Family of the Cloak,
that Marhab will now break the arm of the King of the martyrs,
that Marhab will break the girdle of the Lion of God,
that Marhab will crush the pearl beneath the stone of cruelty.
I have no fear of Marhab or of his strength;
your humble servant fears only for my dear uncle, alone.'

Stanza 76

The King said, 'Will the spirit of Ali (a) not have come?
Will my grandfather not have heard this news?
Will Fatima (a) not be distressed in paradise?
Will she not have come here bareheaded?
Abbas (a) is showing the strength of God to His servants;
my dear, just watch what Abbas (a) does.'

Stanza 77

Hearing this news, the ladies began to lament;
the noble Sayyid went to the doorway holding his back;
he cried, 'Fizza, bring Ali Asghar here;
it is the hour of prayer; the one I raised in my arms is slipping from me.
Ladies of the Sayyids! Uncover your heads, spread the prayer-mat,
and pray that the standard-bearer prevails over the enemy.'

Stanza 78

In the tent there was doomsday with cries and weeping;
in terror Sakina (a) was saying this to God:
'O God, destroy whoever fights my uncle;
may he come back safe; if I die, what does it matter?
Let me offer up the cruel ones as a sacrifice:
two hundred thousand have surrounded my one uncle!'

Stanza 79

'Alas, alas! Is there any end to this oppression and cruelty?
Who ever heard of raising a sword against a water-bearer?
Does anyone think it right to torment a Sayyid?
Is it lawful to keep water from the thirsty?
Since the seventh we have had neither food nor water;
into what sorrow the merciless have thrown us!

Stanza 80

Dear mother, call my water-bearer;
tell him, "Sakina (a) is at her end; come here;
no water is needed now; send for a coffin;
put the water-skin down from your shoulder and lift the bier."
Abbas (a) will come to embrace my grave;
hearing this, Abbas (a) will come running in alarm.'

Stanza 81

Meanwhile Marhab made four attacks there,
but not one blow landed on this devotee of the Panjtan;
every limb was as alert as heart and eye;
the sword was spent, the enemy at a loss.
When in fury he drew his sword against the pure face,
the sword drew an alif in the dust with its finger.

Stanza 82

The warrior said, 'Was this the skill you were so proud of?
You never learned the art of striking from the men of the Hand of God.'
Then he drew his spark-casting sword in such a way
that not a sound came even from the mouth of the scabbard.
Here the scabbard emptied its body in fear;
there life emptied the bodies of the enemy.

Stanza 83

When this sword appeared, bare from end to end,
no soul could stay any longer in the garment of the body;
Existence cried 'Mercy!', Death cried 'Help!';
Justice called out that the whole world lay in his grip.
See, Victory in person put its head out from its collar;
the new moon of the sky of triumph came out of the unseen.

Stanza 84

Lightning fell upon lightning, and death in fear upon death;
an earthquake shook the palace of the heavens;
the planets drew back as they looked at the sword's blade:
the sun was upon Mars, and Mars upon Saturn.
Such terror did the gleam of the shining sword give
that the sky clung to the earth with its teeth of stars.

Stanza 85

Brave Abbas (a) turned to Marhab:
'Like a sword, I am all temper from head to foot;
you could well be cut clean in two with one blow,
but then my skill would not be shown to you.
Come, parry my blows: you have a shield;
I will not wound you yet; this is a display of skill.'

Stanza 86

Taking the shield from his shoulder, the enemy faced him;
with his sword he began to show him every art of striking:
'This is the chest, this the arm, this the waist and this the neck;
this the helmet, this the breastplate, this the shield, this the mail.'
Which blow could he parry? Where was the sword?
It flashed before the eyes, yet was hidden from sight.

Stanza 87

Then Marhab held neither shield nor sword:
with one hand he held his head, with the other his turban.
In anger the tyrant at once took up his spear;
the lion took up his spark-showering sword.
When he levelled his spear at the standard-bearer,
he swept the spear away on his sword.

Stanza 88

Every move he made went astray in confusion;
then, when he cast the horoscope of the bow on the field,
the lot of the arrowheads fell on a battle of arrows;
the shining sword began to cut the arrows down.
Not only were the arrowheads branded to the heart by the sword's temper:
if the thumb-ring bore sixty, the bowstring bore forty.

Stanza 89

When this sword made its home in the rebel's quiver,
the cry went up that lightning had flashed and struck a reed-bed;
the feathers of the arrows, cut to pieces, flew off like pigeons;
Marhab was frantic, like a bird without wings.
The warrior stepped forward and said, 'Tell me, whose is the victory?
Now it is death and you: here is the sword, and here your head.'

Stanza 90

The coward hid his face behind his shield
and drew an Indian dagger from his waist.
The dagger came from this side and the sword from that;
at that moment even the air could not pass between them for fear.
Allah! The temper of the standard-bearer's sword!
It shattered the temper of that bloodthirsty dagger to atoms.

Stanza 91

When it cut through the dagger, it did not stop at the shield;
not stopping at the shield, it went straight to the head;
going straight to the head, it was at the chest and waist;
at the chest and waist, it was at the heart and liver;
at the heart and liver, it was at the saddle;
at the saddle, and the rider lay on the ground.

Stanza 92

Faith leapt up and cried, 'There, he has slain Unbelief!'
Divine Power called out, 'This is our strength!'
The Prophet (s) said to Haidar, 'This is your pride!'
Haidar (a) said, 'He is the star of my eye.'
Zahra (a) became a moth round the candle of his shining face;
holding Mohsin in her lap, Zahra (a) offered herself for him.

Stanza 93

When this man of the Fire grew cold, the tumult grew hot:
there the army took up the reins, here this brave young man rode forward;
the sound of the hooves made Qarun's head ache;
the dust flew up like the colour from the enemies' faces.
Qarun's gold from his hidden treasure came to light;
so much earth flew from the field that water came up.

Stanza 94

Those still alive cried out, 'Greatness belongs to Allah!'
the heads of the dead upon the spears cried 'Bravo!';
in fear they called Umar ibn Saad misguided;
joyfully the standard-bearer called out towards the King.
Here rang out the cry 'O Hazrat Shabbir!',
and Shabbir, smiling, raised the cry of God is Great.

Stanza 95

Coming close to the curtain, the King's sister called out:
'Victory over the enemy! Blessings on you, my life for yours;
now I can say it: I was watching this whole battle;
with one blow of Abbas (a) the man of the Fire went cold.
Marhab was slain at Khaibar by the Hand of God;
his namesake has been slain by the son of the Lion of God.'

Stanza 96

'My life for the standard-bearer's going out to the field,
my life for his wielding the sword while starving,
my life for his carrying the standard and the water-skin together,
my life for his not getting a single drop in this thirst!
He became the water-bearer of the thirsty: my life for such kindness!
He beheaded the mighty: my life for such strength!

Stanza 97

May God guard you both at every moment;
whoever looks on you with an evil eye, may he be ruined and perish;
may this sister, born of your mother, take on the ills of you both and be your ransom.'
Weeping, the Hazrat said, 'Sister, let us see what happens;
when he shows me his moonlike face, then I will believe it;
when he comes back safe from the river, then I will believe it.'

Stanza 98

The master was saying this sorrowfully to Zainab (a)
when suddenly Sakina (a) heard the good news of victory.
She cried, 'My life for you, my good Fizza:
go quickly and take my uncle's ills upon yourself for me;
do not trouble him by telling him the pain of thirst,
but remind him not to forget.'

Stanza 99

Fizza went towards the battlefield to take his ills upon herself;
suddenly Abbas (a) saw her coming.
He cried, 'Turn back; I know why you have come.
Tell Sakina (a), by Allah, I remember:
"The little lady's heart is turning to water with thirst;
your father's servant is coming, bringing water."'

Stanza 100

Like a cloud he made for the river, bringing lightning with him,
parting the heads of Marhab's companions;
no difference was left between the leader and his army:
like Marhab, they all sank into the pit of Habhab.
One wave of the sword raised a storm;
the storm set the whole wilderness in uproar.

Stanza 101

Every ripple of mail on the soldiers' bodies turned to water;
were they the living in their clothes, or the dead in their shrouds?
Cutting off the tongues of the daggers in their mouths,
with one sword he left the swords helpless on the field.
Haidar's lion plunged into the ocean of the army;
like a swelling cloud he came to the river.

Stanza 102

The guards of the river came forward, to be cut to pieces,
wearing tight mail on their bodies like fish,
their rustless daggers drawn like waves.
The water-bearer said, 'Where is it lawful to fight over water?
You are guardians of the river, but you neglect the faith;
like bubbles, you have eyes without sight.

Stanza 103

What religion is this, that does not know the path of the law?
What way is this, that gives no water to drink?
The infancy of the one left without milk, the youth of Ali Akbar (a),
thirst is now laying them waste.
The children's lips are dry, their tongues are split with thirst;
ask the river itself which thirsty one has the right to it.

Stanza 104

I need one water-skin of water from this river;
let me fill it; do not argue or dispute.'
The oppressors cried, 'Getting through to the river is hard.'
The warrior said, 'Very well; but if that is your intent, be on your guard:
come, stop the flood and the spark-showering lightning;
stop my steed, stop my sword!'

Stanza 105

So saying, he spurred his swift-running horse;
the swift steed flashed like lightning;
its hooves rained sparks on the heads of the wicked;
was it a flood of destruction, or a storm that stirs up calamity?
An eye blinked when it saw that steed in its fury,
and when the eye opened, it saw him riding into the river.

Stanza 106

A cry went up in the river: 'The pearl of Najaf has come!'
Ilyas (a) and Khizr (a) said, 'Our glory has come!
Abbas (a), son of the Emperor of Najaf, has come!'
The hand of the oyster came with pearls to kiss his feet.
When Haidar's (a) son remembered the thirsty ones,
his heart turned to blood as he looked towards the river.

Stanza 107

Then he opened the mouth of the dried-up water-skin;
bending down, the crown of the age began to fill it;
the enemy made him a target for arrows from afar,
and the spirit of the Hand of God kissed his shoulder.
He said, 'How you gladden me, my son!
you are filling water for my granddaughter, my son.'

Stanza 108

'There is no fault in your effort and courage,
but water is not in the fate of that thirsty girl;
there is no delay in my darling's martyrdom;
the delight there is in the wound is not in its cure.
A river of blood has flowed from the eyes of Zahra (a);
she is uncovering her head to weep over your body.'

Stanza 109

When the beloved of the Lion of God came out of the river,
the uproar went up: 'That lion is carrying the water away!'
Then all the founders of oppression blocked his path;
this is how they honoured the rank of Sakina's (a) water-bearer:
they shook the graves of the Prophet (s), Haidar (a) and Zahra (a);
they pressed the points of their lances to his heart.

Stanza 110

Which arrow was there that they did not strike into his heart?
They shed more blood than the water in the water-skin.
In the midst of this press, Shimr called out by a trick:
'Abbas (a), save yourself! A band has come from ambush!'
When the son of the Lion of God turned to look,
the cruel ones put his shoulders under the sword.

Stanza 111

It is written that a date palm stood at the edge of the field;
the accursed Zaid ibn Warqa lay hidden in it.
When the walking cypress of the King of Men came there,
the shoulder that was worthy of water-skin, standard and sword
Zaid struck with the sword of death;
this flowering, fruitful branch was cut off by the sword's blade.

Stanza 112

He took the water-skin, standard and sword on his left side,
and the lover of the noble King's face hurried on;
but Ibn Tufail came forward, levelling his spear;
with the point of his lance he turned the heart upside down,
and with a stroke of his sword he cut the King's heart:
he cut off that hand too of the son of the Hand of God.

Stanza 113

The water-bearer laid the water-skin on his severed arms
and took the whole strap into his mouth like a tongue.
Suddenly arrows struck him in front, one after another:
one in the water-skin, one in the eye and one in the mouth.
Water flowed from the water-skin, and blood from the body;
Abbas (a) fell from the horse, and the water-skin from his mouth.

Stanza 114

Falling, the standard-bearer called out with wounded lips:
'Someone tell the thirsty ones that the water-bearer has been slain!'
As fate would have it, the King of the martyrs heard this cry;
he said to Zainab (a), 'See, we have no one left:
Asghar's (a) throat has been pierced, and Akbar's (a) heart as well;
my arms too are broken, and my back.'

Stanza 115

'It is as if at this very moment our tents were burned,
and the tyrant struck my daughter too,
and all my young and old were bound with rope;
in grief for Abbas (a) I have come to the edge of the grave.
The enemies cry that they have slain the master of the sword;
why do they not say that they have slain Shabbir?'

Stanza 116

Zainab (a) said, 'It is true: it is you who have died, brother;
Abbas (a) has left the whole family destroyed, brother;
the Hamza (a) of Haidar (a) has gone from the world, brother;
we have gone bareheaded into the ruler's court, brother.
I know now that I lie in the prison of affliction;
I am no longer at home; I stand bareheaded among the mob.'

Stanza 117

Suddenly a voice came: 'O son of Fatima (a),
come quickly, for my body is now being trampled!'
Zainab (a) said, 'Fortunate Abbas (a) is still alive;
you go; here I will loosen my hair to pray for his healing.'
The King said, 'Sakina's (a) uncle is at the edge of the grave;
has anyone struck down by this army ever survived?'

Stanza 118

Leaning on Akbar (a), the master went to the river,
now conscious, now fainting, now stunned, now lamenting.
It is written that the water-bearer's limbs were cut to pieces thus:
one hand was found on the field of slaughter, one on the river bank.
When Zahra's (a) son came beneath the tree on the battlefield,
the King saw a hand writhing.

Stanza 119

Falling, the noble King said this to Akbar:
'My son, pick it up: this is the hand of my own arm.'
Holding this hand to his breast, the heir of the Sayyids
came to the body of the contented Abbas (a):
alas! he saw the shoulders severed by swords,
and the Hand of God, bareheaded, at his pillow.

Stanza 120

Unbidden, the King laid his forehead on his forehead;
laying his lips on his lips, he cried, 'Alas, the grief! Alas!
This arrow, this eye, and this spear, this heart!
Alas, delight of my eyes! Alas, blood of my heart!
Say something, my brother who shared my grief,
Abbas (a), Abul Fazl, my standard-bearer, brother!'

Stanza 121

When, in his death agony, he heard the master's lament,
he propped himself on his severed shoulders, meaning to show respect;
then he drew in his feet, so that his master should not stand at his feet.
The King said, 'Do not trouble yourself, my devoted one.'
He said, 'I am lying here with my feet stretched out.'
The Hazrat said, 'I am standing at your head.'

Stanza 122

Here was this doom; there, in the tent, this uproar:
the daughters of the Prophet's house were all at the door, heads uncovered,
anxious that the master had not brought back the body;
the son of Abbas (a) stood outside in distress.
His body trembled like the shining sun;
his heart was in pieces like the collars of orphans.

Stanza 123

He kept pleading with his mother: 'Call my father;
I am going to the river; bring me my short sword.'
His mother said, 'Pray for Sakina's (a) father;
call your uncle father too; forget your father.
Death parted him from Haidar (a) in his ninth year;
my dear, your father too was raised by your uncle.'

Stanza 124

'Your father was surrounded at the river just now;
my darling's uncle has gone to bring him;
you stay here, support of my widowhood;
your uncle is bringing your father back, my darling.'
So great was that good son's love for Abbas (a)
that he kept stepping forward to look towards the river.

Stanza 125

Suddenly the distraught boy came back, beating his face;
Zainab (a) said, 'Is all well? My life for you.'
He cried, 'Your servant's orphanhood has come;
brother Ali Akbar has just torn open his collar;
Father has left me fatherless in childhood;
Uncle is clinging to the dead: Father has died.'

Stanza 126

Amid this outcry the master came with the water-skin and the standard;
the Imam of the nations came into the tent holding his back,
and the women came round the standard with their hair loose.
The King said to Zainab (a), 'Sister, I have come back plundered;
be the guardian of your brother's orphans, Zainab (a);
you take charge of the mourning for the standard-bearer, Zainab.

Stanza 127

Come, spread the black carpet of mourning for Haidar (a);
send for the chest that holds the mourning clothes;
give everyone black garments, make them mourners;
dress me in the clothes I wore in mourning for Shabbar.
Among the Family of the Cloak, you put on that black mourning shift
that Fatima (a) wore in mourning for our grandfather.

Stanza 128

This is not mourning for Abbas (a); it is mourning for me.
When mourning for Abbas (a) is held in my house,
let no one say 'Abbas (a)' or 'water-bearer' in the lament;
whoever wails, let her weep and say, "Alas, Husain (a)!"
Let all the maids weep, "Our master has been slain!"
and let Sakina (a) too cry out, "My father has been slain!"'

Stanza 129

Zainab said, 'Such are the tasks my fate holds.'
When that ill-fated lady began to hand out the mourning clothes,
she said to Fizza, 'I am making ready for the mourning;
alas, alas, the standard of the army of Islam has gone cold;
I am choosing Zahra's (a) garment for myself;
I am handing out the mourning clothes for Abbas (a).'

Stanza 130

Then she brought the black carpet and spread it beneath the standard,
and herself brought the widow of Abbas (a) and seated her there;
weeping, she said to all who wore black:
'Fate has shown me the grief of a young brother too;
how should there not be a festering wound in heart and soul?
There is mourning for the standard-bearer in the master's house.'

Stanza 131

'Let no custom of mourning be left undone;
now let each go from this tent to her own tent,
and let each one come here to mourn with us for Abbas (a);
bareheaded, Zainab (a) will lead her in from the edge of the carpet.
This is mourning for Jafar and Hamza, for Haidar (a);
it is mourning for Shabbir, for Akbar (a) and for Asghar.'

Stanza 132

All went to their tents, weeping aloud;
here the beloved of the Hand of God began to wail.
Fizza said to the distraught Zainab, 'My life for you:
O daughter of Ali (a), Bano's company is coming.
The standard-bearer's wife sits beneath the standard with her face covered;
the master's wife is coming to mourn with her.'

Stanza 133

Bano set foot on the black carpet only after
she had first seated Asghar there, bareheaded;
then she ran towards the standard, beating herself and saying,
'My life for your loyalty, O arm of the master!
I hear your arms fell beneath the sword of cruelty;
at the river the water-bearer's arms were cut off.

Stanza 134

I never thought of Abbas (a) as a brother:
I called him son, and he called me mother.
With the death of this lion the master is left helpless;
the guardian of Ali Akbar's life is lifeless.
All say the Hazrat's brother has been slain;
ask my heart, and it is Akbar (a) who has been slain.'

Stanza 135

Just then they heard little Sakina (a) crying out;
Zainab said, 'The standard-bearer's soul has come.'
With her hands joined, Shabbir's daughter
was saying, 'I have been punished for asking for water;
punish Shabbir's daughter, or forgive her;
how can I say, "Forgive my fault"?

Stanza 136

I have made you a widow and dressed you in widow's clothes;
alas, alas, my one thirst has made the whole house weep;
the son of the Lion of God has gone to Kausar,
and the blame for the family has fallen to my share.
Be just, people: what has my uncle done?
I stayed as thirsty as ever, and my uncle died.'

Stanza 137

After this a cry went up: 'See, a widow is coming;
a widow is coming to the house of a new widow;
the widow is shy as she lifts her veil;
the widow has her mother-in-law undo her braided hair.'
Zainab (a) said, 'She is the widow of Hasan's (a) son;
why not say she is my Qasim's (a) bride?'

Stanza 138

When Zainab (a) seated Kubra (a) beside her aunt,
that widow lifted the veil from Kubra's (a) face
and asked, 'Why did your bridegroom not come with you?
Alas, your aunt never invited you as a guest;
you have come to mourn for the son of the Lion of God:
this is your first visit as a bride to your uncle's house.'

Stanza 139

Suddenly this lament arose beneath the standard:
'Ladies of the Sayyids, comfort the mother of Abbas (a)!'
All rose in respect, for it was the lament of Zahra (a);
Zainab (a) said, 'Mother, that grieving lady is in our homeland.'
A voice came: 'I am near; how am I far?
Abbas (a) is my son; I am the mother of Abbas (a).'

Stanza 140

'I have come to dress my daughter-in-law in widow's clothes;
I have brought a robe of light from paradise.
You have spread the mat of mourning for Abbas (a),
but there will be nothing for the third-day rites, my daughter:
on the third day, alas, you will be on the road to Syria;
on the fortieth day you will give a shroud to the standard-bearer's body.'

Stanza 141

See, followers of Haidar, Zahra (a) has come into the gathering;
comfort the spirit of Fatima (a) for the loss of Abbas (a).
The noble King has not yet been shrouded;
the bodies of the master and the standard-bearer lie unburied;
the enemies do not let the Prophet's family weep:
you weep for Husain (a), son of Ali, in place of them all.

Stanza 142

Be silent now, Dabeer, for there is no strength left for verse;
the eulogist's heart is split in two by the dagger of grief.
This is means enough for our forgiveness:
I composed the whole marsiya in a single week.
This is the special grace upon you of the friend of God;
all this is the bounty of praising the darling of Ali (a).