پايگاه اطلاع رساني دفتر آيت الله العظمي شاهرودي دام ظله
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Wednesday 26 June 2019 - الأربعاء 22 شوال 1440 - چهارشنبه 5 4 1398
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  • The Savior of Islam  
  • 1389-09-11 12:49:40  
  • تعداد بازدید : 43   
  • ارسال به دوستان
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  • Sweet melodies blew the heavenly horn
    A joyous tiding; Husayn was born
    The sun rejoiced; the moon was gay
    Each in its orbit, each did away.
    The waters rippled; the wind was all play
    Never were they, so happy and gay
    It was Muhammad"s light and Ali"s ray
    The Savior of Islam had come to stay.
    A gift to Muhammad, from his Lord
    A son to Ali, the sun of God
    A fruit of love, to the Lady of Light
    A brother to "Hassan" to cause him delight.
    Born was he, out of God"s grace
    A beacon light, to the human race
    A soul of souls, whom God made pure
    With heavenly love, the world to cure.
    The Prophet rejoiced; his eyes shed tears
    For here was one, to him most dear
    For here was one, for Islam"s sake
    His life and all, would one day stake.
    For truth and justice, he would fight
    In cause of God, without respite
    For he was one, decreed by God
    To lay his life, for the love of Lord.
    The heavens were glad, for such a one
    The Lord should choose, Ali"s son
    For best was he; the world had seen
    Whose vision one craves, even in dream.
    "Fed with love, by the Lady of Light"
    he got the best, of what was right
    and from his father, the "Godly Knight"
    he drew his strength and his might.
    But Muhammad did give, beyond measure
    All that he had, as his treasure
    For he was his treasure, beyond doubt
    As he often publicly proclaimed aloud.
    "Love them my Lord, I do implore,
    Who love Husayn and him adore
    He is of me and I of him"
    Such a bond, the world had not seen!
    He sucked his tongue, in playful jest
    His breast he made, a place of rest
    The reins he made, his curls of hair
    His back he made, a stately mare.
    Such was the love, the Prophet bore
    For he was his grandson, and more
    An anchor sheet, to all who care
    To live and be, "just and fair."
    The life he lived; the path he led
    He earned by sweat; the poor he fed
    Not a pie had he, that he kept
    But the poor he gave, ere he slept.
    A king of kings, in simple attire
    The crowns of world, he never aspired
    To the uncared widow, and the needy orphan
    He gave his all, and all so often.
    Many a day, he tightened his loins
    To buy his own bread, he had no coins
    So noble of heart so pure a soul
    To please his Lord, was his goal.
    He lived for Lord and His delight
    He toiled by day and prayed by night
    The simplest of life, he liked to live
    The best of things, he liked to give.
    His life was such, a guiding light
    To know the wrong and know the right
    And such a soul, was asked to bow
    To one who was the lowest of low.
    Yazid, the godless son of a crafty father
    Was proclaimed a king or Caliph rather
    Money and wine, most lavishly flowed
    Till all the worldly heads had bowed.
    But not the heads, who had bowed
    To God alone, who had showed
    The path of right, through Islam"s ray
    Eighty and odd, among them, were they.
    To save Islam from its sinking depth
    Too glad were they, to face death
    But to the ungodly one, they refused to bow
    Undaunted and unnerved, they faced the foe.
    It was not a fight, for a kingdom
    Nor a family feud, as is not seldom
    It was a fight for principles and truth
    As imbibed by Islam, in its holy book.
    If he had bowed to the ungodly one
    Riches and honor he would have won
    Islam would then have been in name
    Its seal, would have adorned, the devil"s reign.
    The time soon came for their test
    They were ready to lay their best
    With women and babes, handful were they
    Ready to face thousands, in battle array.
    To cut off water, was the only way
    To weaken them, they thought, for the fray
    So frightened were they, of Ali"s son
    To fight them they knew, was no fun.
    Husayn was fully alive, to things at stake
    He knew well, his family"s fate
    He was aware, that his was the Martyr"s cup
    His end was near, his time was up!
    The sad day dawned; the heavens were aghast
    Truth was at stake; the die had been cast
    Never had they witnessed, so supreme a test;
    Falsehood at its worst versus truth at its best.
    The wind was a grief, it tore each leaf
    Wild was its anger, wild with grief
    It shook the river by its throat
    The waves, it tossed all things afloat.
    The sun glared down, wild with fire
    It burned with rage; fierce was its ire
    If only it could make itself somehow free
    From the chains of bonds of heaven"s decree.
    The river was ashamed; hapless was its plight
    Destiny"s decree, how could it dare fight
    Its waters were controlled, by the rule of might
    Who cared a nought, for wrong or right.
    They guarded the river; they threw a ring
    To deny water was worst of a vindictive thing
    The hounds, they drank, and so did the drunks
    Innocent babes; parched were their tongues.
    For three torturous days and three night
    Muhammad"s beloveds were in waterless plight
    Young babes of most holy and innocent fare
    Wailing and whining, the torture they share.
    O" Lord of Lords! What a pathetic sight
    Yazid"s hordes, displaying their might
    Thousands and thousands of blood-thirsty hounds
    Waiting to pounce on eighty odd crowns.
    While handful of souls, engrossed in prayer
    Unheedful of them; a sight so divinely rare
    Young and old, they prayed to Merciful God
    With humble devotion, His help they sought.
    To give them strength; no, not to fight
    But to be content, in whatever plight
    For well they knew, their role of life
    Was to save Islam, from being knifed!
    The battle he lost, the fight he won
    Yazid"s title of sanctity was shorn
    Islam"s plant survived the onslaught
    Husayn"s blood had watered the drought.
    The revenge was complete, so it seemed
    Abu Sufyan"s pledge to Satan was redeemed
    The worldly eyes could, however, hardly see
    Husayn"s blood had kept Islam pure and free.

     
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