Remembering Karbala Once Again

Remembering Karbala Once Again0%

Remembering Karbala Once Again Author:
: Mirza Dabeer
Translator: Syeda B. Raza
Publisher: Naba Publication (
Category: Imam Hussein

Remembering Karbala Once Again

Author: Meer Anis
: Mirza Dabeer
Translator: Syeda B. Raza
Publisher: Naba Publication (

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Remembering Karbala Once Again

Remembering Karbala Once Again

Publisher: Naba Publication (

Alhassanain (p) Network for Islamic Heritage and Thought

Remembering Karbala Once Again

SelectedMarsias of Meer Anis andMirza Dabeer

Translated by:Syeda B.Raza

Published in the U.S.A April 2003

First edition, printed inHyderbarad , India in early 2003

Table of Contents

Acknowledgements 3

About the Translator 4

Introduction 5

Marsiya n. 1: Husain Leaves Medina 6

The Journey of Imam Husain (‘a): Leaving Medina 6

("Ghar Sejab Behre Safar Sayyid a Aalam Nikle") 6

Marsiya n. 2: Hurr: The Warrior Friend 8

The Warrior Friend of Imam Husain (‘a) Respected Hurr 8

("Run mein jab Shah Id taraf se Hurr a Deendaar Aaya") 8

Marsiya n. 3: Sacrifice of Aon and Muhammad 10

The Sacrifice of Zainab’s Sons Most Reverred Aon and Muhammad (‘a) 10

("Jab Zainab e Ghareeb ke run mein pisar lade" ) 10

Marsiya n. 4: A Baby is Slaughtered 12

The Slaughter of a Baby: Most Revered Ali Asghar (‘a) 12

("Banu ke sheerquar ko haftum se pyaas hai") 12

Marsiya n. 5: An Eighteen Year Old Soldier 14

Husain’s Eighteen Year old Soldier: Most Revered Ali Akbar (‘a) 14

("Daulat koi dunya mein pisar se nahin behtar") 14

Marsiya n. 6: Qasim: The Pride and Joy 17

Imam Hasans Pride and Joy: Most Revered Qasim (‘a) 17

(" Zaqmee jo run mein Qasim a gulpayrahun hua") 17

Marsiya n. 7: The Brother and Standard Bearer 19

Imam Husain’s Beloved Brother and Standard Bearer of the Army: Most Revered Abbas ibn Ali (‘a) 19

("Jab Ibne Bu Turaab ba rue zameen gira" ) 19

Marsiya n. 8: The Prophet’s Grandson 21

The Prophet’s Grandson: Most Revered Imam Husain (‘a) 21

("Jab qaatema ba qaer hue foj a Shah kaa" ) 21

Marsiya n. 9: A Visit to the Prisoners of War 24

Hind, Wife of the Cursed Yazid Visits the Prisoners of War 24

(" Qaid qaane mein talatum hai ke Hind aatee hai" ) 24

Marsiya n. 10: A Beloved Daughter 27

The Imam’s Beloved Daughter: Most Reveled Sakina (‘a) 27

(" Bevon kaa mulke Shaam mein jis dum guzar hua" ) 27

Marsiya n. 11: The Return to the Plains of Karbala 30

Most Reverred Zainab (‘a) Returns to Karbala Chehlum 30

("Chehlum jo Karbala mein bahattar ka ho chuka") 30

Note 32


I am eternally indebted to my parents,Sayyid MuhammadRaza andMaleka Zainab Banu , who raised me to love theAhlul Baith and who taught me the Urdu language; I have also learned much, both in terms of inspiration and guidance, fromHasan AbdullahMoosavi , an Urdu poet (Al Mir), residing in Hyderabad, India and who also happens to be my maternal uncle;

My children,Mehdi andAbiha , inspired and motivated me to translate themarsias and continually oblige me by struggling to learn Urdu; It would be inexcusable to not mention my sisters, SarahNaqvi andSoghra Raza , who have always encouraged my poetic blabber and listen patiently (or at least pretend to listen) to my ramblings; their respective husbands,Luthfe Naqvi andSayyid Qayem Husain have also assisted in the circulation of this book; Finally, my many thanks to the readers of Meer Anis' andMirza Dabeer's marsias in Hyderabad, India, whose beautiful recitation of themarsias fostered in me a love for the poetry, the reading of which I continue to enjoy to this day.

About the Translator

Syeda B.Naqvi was born in Hyderabad, India. She migrated to the United States in 1987 and has since lived inMaryiand . She is a mother of two children,Mehdi andAbiha . She is also an attorney practicing in the Washington, D.C. metropolitan area.


Meer Anis orMirza Dabeer need no introduction. The translation of their immortalmarsias perhaps does. The Urdu speakingShias who have had the pleasure of reading and hearing Meer Anis' andMirza Dabeer's marsias can attest that nothing else can evoke with such clarity and such depth the memory, the emotion and the pathos of Karbala, as do thesemarsias . In Hyderabad, India where I grew up, Muharram and thesemarsias are synonymous. The recitation of themarsias there has reached an art form, passed on for generations, refined and evolving with every new reader.

TheShias owe much to Meer Anis andMirza Dabeer who put into words for them, in a heart wrenching, exquisitely human form, the Divine glory of Prophet's Muhammad's household, the tragedy of Karbala, the clash between good and evil, and the ultimate triumph of good. AMajlis in the Urdu speakingShia community without themarsias of Meer Anis orMirza Dabeer is inconceivable.

Yet those of us who live in the West have been forced to accept the undeniable fact that our children will probably never experience the beauty of Meer Anis' orMirza Dabeer's words. The thought is painful; the loss of significant proportions. Who, if not Meer Anis orMirza Dabeer , can bring Karbala to life for ourchildren.? Who will tell the tale as well as they did? A tale told in a manner so as to evoke within us grief, pain, and above all, love for theAhlul Baith ? I lamented at the thought that nobody can do all this as well as Meer Anis orMirza Dabeer . I continue to believe that this will remain true forever.

The idea of translating Meer Anis' andMirza Dabeer's marsias was born from this sense of loss; after all, if our children cannot understand the words of these memorable poets because they don't know Urdu, why not bring the words to them in the language that they do understand? This book is a humble attempt to accomplish this task

I must apologize to the reader, however, for the numerous deficiencies in my translation.while I have tried to adhere to Meer Anis' andMirza Dabeer's words as much as possible, in my attempt to maintain a rhythm in the verses, I have often lapsed in this effort. I also apologize for the mistakes, the incongruities, or the gaps with which the reader may find my translation to be riddled. Despite all this though, it is my hope that the translation gives the reader a sense, albeit slight, of the beauty of Meer Anis' andMirza Dabeer's memorable poetry

Marsiya n. 1: Husain Leaves Medina

The Journey of Imam Husain (‘a): Leaving Medina

("Ghar Sejab Behre SafarSayyid a Aalam Nikle ")

When the Noble Prince left His home

His eyes were teary and His heart did mourn

As friends and sons followed behind

He cried out "Destiny, here I come."

"I've heard the cries of Zahra all night

The forsaken wilderness is in my sight"

Then towards the Prophet's tomb He glanced

He bowed His head in a respectful stance

Then approaching the tomb, He knelt and bowed

"Do I haveYour permission to leaves" He asked

"Today I depart from this home and this land

Your grandson leaves this country's sands"

"Though mankind sleeps with peace in its homes

This peace is denied to me alone

The cry of my family breaks my heart

Where must we go with babes in our arms?"

"Neither jungle nor city can shelter me now

To send me to my grave, they've taken a vow'

"The enemy swords await my neck

On my friends and family havoc will wreck

You had warned my Mother of these days my Lord

She had cried andHer heart had filled with dread"

"But pray do not forget this forlorn Grandson

Who'll be beheaded under the blazingsun "

"In this heat, even birds stay close to their nests

it's the month of fasting, but leave I must

For danger lurks wherever I stop

My children or family can find no rest"

"My Lord, I've tired of living thus

Come, take me, hide me inYour grave's dust"

Inconsolable He wept at His Grandfather's tomb

The tomb did tremble and darkness loomed

Then the voice of the Prophet filled the air

"My noble son, your foes are doomed"

"Forgetting how much I hold you close

They seek to kill you, your wretched foes"

"My patient, my noble, my pious Grandson

My virtuous, my truthful, my brave Grandson

Woe to the people who forsakeYou now

My honor, my pride, my dearest Grandson"

"I'll be Yourcompany , forever and now

Abandoning my tomb withYou I will go"

Heartened, the Grandson rose and bowed

And His noble sister cried out loud

"Let us go my Brother to our Mother's grave

To bid farewell and kiss the shroud"

"Why must I weep here in the palanquin?

With strangers around and in this din?"

So He led His family to Zahra's grave

AndZainab alighted at a somber pace

And they bowed and kissed their mother's tomb

And around Him He felt His Mother's embrace

And He heard His Mother weep at His plight

"O Mother," He cried, "Bid me farewell tonight"

"Not yet," She cried,,, I must seeAbbas ,,

"Then I will bid you farewell soon alas!

He's born of another, but my son no less"

Hearing this Husain called "HitherAbbas "

"Do not proceed we leave not yet

My mother summons you to her grave instead"

Hearing thisAbbas slowed his horse's pace

And came and knelt at the foot of the grave

And Zahra cried "My beloved son"

"I leave Husain's safety up to you beware!"

"You are a friend to Husain in these lonely times

Farewell, protect him from his enemies' designs"

Marsiya n. 2:Hurr : The Warrior Friend

The Warrior Friend of Imam Husain (‘a) RespectedHurr

("Runmein jab Shah Idtaraf seHurr aDeendaar Aaya ")

WhenHurr left the camp of the Noble Prince

And came to battle His enemies thence

A murmur rippled throughYazid's camp

"Here comes a friend ofHyder's clan"

"A strange light lights up his path

As though angels in his company he hath"

Hearing this, the son ofSaad cried

"Rain arrows and spears with a measured tide"

The army geared for a massive attack

And the lone soldier held his spear by his side

SeeingHurr tremble with rage and might

The murderers scurried like rats in the night

Abbas applaudedHurr's battle skills

And Akbar admired, standing still

Qasim cried often "Bravo dearHurr "

And the Noble Prince himself would smile

Listening to the applause from his Master's camp

Hurr would smile and bow at every chance

Alas as he bowed, the army slacked

And assailed the soldier from behind his back

And thousands surrounded the lonelyHurr

As he braced, the massive army attacked

Close by his heart he felt a spear

And he sensed that Death was very near

The arrows poured at his lurching chest

He doubled over seeking some rest

WatchingHurr's state, Alder cried

"May Igo my Master to save our guest?"

"The devoted servant of Zahra and Ali

Now falls to the ground without a plea"

The Noble Prince seeingHurr's plight

wept with sorrow at the sight

And replied to Akbar "Not you my son"

" I will be the one to go by his side"

"To whom can I express the sorrow I bear?

He is my guest and I must take his care"

Saying thisShabeer then mounted His horse

In a glimpse the battlefield He crossed

ThereHurr fell on the scorching sand

And the Prince found him breathing his last

He held His guest and wept in pain

And watchedHurr rub his heels in the sand

He wipedHurr's brow and held him close

And watched in misery as the blood flowed

And cried "Your wounds have broken my back"

"Yet another friend I've lost in my woes"

"You fell to the ground but didn't call for help

Come open your eyes my brother, my friend"

Hut opened his bruised and bloodied eyes

Saw the glorious face of the Prince in sight

Saw his head cradled in the Prince's lap

And smiled at his fortune and in delight

The Prince then asked "What do you sees"

Hurr replied "The heavens have opened to me'

“I see angels descend from the skies for me

Even in Death's face, a love I can see

Here comesHyder Oh my good fortune!

I seeShabbar with him, boundless is my glee!"

"I see Muhammad’s Daughter bareheaded in grief

And Muhammad Himself comes to me receive"

ThenHurr's face contorted in pain

He looked at Husain and whispered His name

And the Prince cried "So you depart my friend"

Hurr's soul departed and his body went limp

Even in death his glance toward Husain

A smile on his lips, forgotten the pain.

Marsiya n. 3: Sacrifice of Aon and Muhammad

The Sacrifice ofZainab’s Sons MostReverred Aon and Muhammad (‘a)

("JabZainab eGhareeb ke runmein pisar lade" )

When in KarbalaZainab's children fought

The two alone with the massive army fought

With the courage and valor of Ali they fought

Oh like lions the grandsons of a Lion fought

Gallantry inherited from the Grand Amir

Such vigor can come only fromZainab and Ali

Zainab waited barefoot by the door

AndAbbas reported their progress in the war

"Noble sister do not cry nor worry for them

Your sons have vanquished thousands more"

"Their strength reminds the world of Khyber today

Victorious they willreturn, the enemy they will slay"

With tears in her eyesZainab replied

"May Allah bless them with success andmight

The two are alone, fighting thousands today

Their fate rests withGod, He will do what is right"

"Though helpless, I trust the Almighty God

He will grant me the wish I've always sought"

"Oh my brother, I do not fret for them today

They may die or get trampled by the army, yet I say

`If a thousand sons I had, let them all so get killed

To save the Son of Fatima, this price I will pay'

"In Husain's stead, let me bear all the pain

Even if nobody lives, yet live my Husain"

AsAbbas andZainab spoke thus, Husain cried

"OhAbbas , the children are gone from my sight"

Abbas charged at the battlefield

On his way he heard Ali Akbar's cries

"We live to witness this day and to weep?

Let us get their bodies, on the sands they sleep"

Abbas charged, by his side his spear

And Husain grief stricken, bare headed was near

The army retreated seeing them approach

Dying on the sands lay the youth so dear

Though apart in battle, yet together in death

Still clutching their swords, wounded their chests

Seeing His sister's sons in this state

Crushed like flowers, trampled in haste

Their brow and long hair matted with dust

Lips blue with thirst, bruised the face

Their brows gashed and battered, their clothing torn

Ribs mashed and broken by the enemy swords

Husain cried, holding their bodies close

"Come open your eyes, watch my tears floes'

In Death' slumber, heavy lidded were their eyes

Abbas felt their pulse and wept in woe

"Raised in my lap, yet dying in my sight?"

Husain held the dear boys in His arms and cried

AlongsideAbbas in sorrow wept

And cried "Oh here comes the shadow of Death"

And weeping in pain, Husain replied

"The two now depart to eternally rest"

"Within the camp, the hopeful mother waits

Now we take their bodies to her in this state"

ButZainab's heart knew that they lived no more

Quiet in grief, she sat down by the door

And Husain brought in her blood soaked sons

And said "OhZainab , my heart is torn"

"What has happened, what is lost, how can I say?

I hoped they would live, but they died on the way"

Hearing thisZainab rose, weeping in pain

And hugged their bruised bodies, uttering their names

She praised their valor and their sacrifice

And cried "Come wake up now, weeps my Husain"

" Wake up, walk bravely and show me your swords

The Imam needs you, so sleep no more."

Marsiya n. 4: A Baby isSlaughtered

The Slaughter of a Baby: Most Revered AliAsghar (‘a)

("Banu ke sheerquar ko haftum sepyaas hai ")

Banu's son has had no water for days

His pulse is weak and his mother prays

No hope in sight of getting water or milk

Helpless, she lingers by his cradle in a daze

"Pray tell me, what shall I do nowYa Husain?

The baby's eyes now roll back in pain"

"OhYa Ali,Ya Ali where can I go?

I cannot watch my baby suffer so

How do I find a way to make himlives

Ya Ali he needswater, that I cannot give"

" Last night I saw him open his eyes

But today he lays still, doesn't move, doesn't cry"

Then everyone said, "Lets call the Imam

For God's sake somebody, go get the Imam

The baby is dying, go tell the Imam

His face is blue, his body calm"

"Taking Alder's body to lay it to rest

The Imam is on his way, with grief beset"

His face stained with the blood of His 18 year old

The Imam entered, His head bowed

And everyone led Him to the baby's crib

And showed Him the baby's still fingers and toes

"He barely breathes Oh Noble Prince" they cried

"Sometimes you would think he had already died"

At the head of the crib, the Prince knelt down

in the baby's ear He whispered, head bowed

Hearing the Prince's voice, the baby smiled

Toward Husain he extended his arms and glowed

"It's a miracle my father,"Sakina cried

"Oh mother, my brother has opened his eyes"

The baby in His arms, the Prince left the camp

And Death followed, eyeing them askance

To shelter her baby from the midday sun

The mother draped a sheet over the Imam's arms

HoldingAsghar close, Husain walked, head bowed

in the arms of the heavens, a snow white cloud

As He neared the lowly enemy, Husain paused

Couldn't ask for water, couldn't utter the words

with embarrassment He paled and His body tensed

So He removed the sheet from the baby's face

Head bowed, he said, "I've brought my son to you

Seeking waterAsghar now has come to you"

Then He kissed His baby's parched lips and looked

And whispered "My son I've said what I could

There is nothing else to say now Oh my son

maybe you can show them your dry, parched tongue"

And the baby obeyed, licked his lips dry

And Husain shuddered and looked up to the skies

And as Husain looked to the heavens so

The cursedHurmula strung an arrow in his bow

And aimed the arrow atAsghar's throat

Pulling taut thebow, let the arrow go

As the tiny neck the arrow gashed

Asghar lurched and clung to his dad

A six month baby and an arrows force

Blood poured from the tiny, thirsty throat

Once more he lurched and then went still

His cap fell to the ground and he breathed his last

The tiny fists curled over his chest, body numb

A minute ago he was sucking his thumbs

And the desolate Father, watched His son

saw the devastation the enemy's arrow had done

And watched the baby in the throes of death

The tiny hands groping at the injured neck

The lifeless eyes rolling back in the head

Blood gushing forth from the battered neck

Gently pulling out the arrow from the neck

Husain lifted His son toward the heaven and said

"My God please accept my last sacrifice

For your cause, in your path, my son is now dead"

"Little in age but magnanimous in deeds

Thus are the children of Allah's creed"

Marsiya n. 5: An Eighteen Year Old Soldier

Husain’s Eighteen Year old Soldier: Most Revered Ali Akbar (‘a)

("Daulat koi dunya mein pisar senahin behtar ")

No greater wealth than your children in this world

No greater peace than their peace in this world

just as no better flavor than a freshly picked fruit

Or the fragrance of a rose with dew in its swirls

Soothing your troubled heart, they make you whole

They are yourcomfort, they calm your troubled soul

Ask a master of the loss of a household destroyed

Ask the members of the household who can only cry

Ask a parent of the ruin the death of a child brings

Ask Husain of Akbar's parting, the answer is in his sighs

May a parent never so suffer, nor a child thus part

In the tears of a mourning parent, is the blood of a bleeding


When the dastardly arrows pierced Akbar's heart

His breathing became labored and almost stopped

He thought of Husain, as he fell from his horse

And he cried out "Oh Father from you now I part"

"Pray come to this wounded son, so alone, so bruised

Come help your Ali Akbar, whom you're about to lose"

Hearing His son's cries, Husain's heart sank

His legs gaveway, He dropped often to the sands

With every breath He felt He could breathe no more

"OhAsadullah " He cried, clutched His heart in pain

With shock His face ashen, desert dust in His hair

Trembling, He rose again; blinded, He stared

He shouted "Oh Ali Akbar, which way do I comes

Do I search in the sand dunes under the blazing sun?

My heartpalpitates, do I seek the enemy's help?

I will come to you, I'll find you,to me you cannot come"

"Your loss has robbed your parents of every wish to live

Me you were supposed to bury, the job to me you give"

"Alter, call out my name,ask me once more to come

Call your desolatefather, call me, my precious son

Call for your isolated, your heart broken father now

Call your anxious father so that I may come"

"whatever God wills must happen, let it be, let it be

So I must be beheaded, so what, let it be"

Stumbling and falling, Husain found His injured son

Lodged in Akbar's heart was an arrow, damage done

He felt as though the arrow had pierced His own heart

He clutched at His chest, Oh Akbar, so young

He heard Akbar's labored breath, his toil to hide the pain

The son dying before His eyes, the Father watched in vain

Lips dry, ashen faced, hair matted with dust

in his eyes a distant look, his body bruised and cut

Shoulders and neck wounded with arrows and swords

Blood smeared on his face, on his cheeks tears of hurt

His lips whispering, "My master hasn't come yet

My Father isn't here and I'm so close to my death"

"Oh listen my fluttering heart, beat till He gets here

Stay Oh parting life, the Lord of Gin and men is near

Linger Oh departing soul, the Imam must come

Await Him Oh Death, do you hear?"

"It is my wish to see Him once then I may die

In His laps, in His arms, once more I wish to lie"

"I am here Ali Akbar," said Husain, "I have come"

"Get up my beloved, my dearest, lovely son

You're waiting for me, your eyes searching the battlefield

Your forlorn father is here, your wait for me is done"

"Say something Akbar, open your eyes,look at me

I'll hold you so my miserable face you can see"

"You moan in pain, in your neck an arrow is stuck

Does it hurt to movesShould I let your rest on the dust?

My world has come crashing down on me today

I've raised you in mylap, do I watch you die thus?"

"Your liver comes gushing out of your wounded chest

Through the open wounds I seeyour broken ribs no less"

"Oh Ali Akbar, Ali Alter, say something, talk to me

Open your eyes Ali Akbar, so my face you can see

If you're leaving, say goodbye, do not so quietly go

You must die and I live, how can it be? "

"Even tired grooms do not sleep soundly as you do

I weep for you in pain, and yet you do not move"

In his unconscious state Akbar heard Husain's cries

The obedient son opened his arms and sighed

Husain held Akbar to His chest and wept in pain

Showed the thirsty son, His own tongue, parched and dry

And said "Oh dearest Akbar, not a drop I could find

I couldn't get any water, Oh dearest son of mine"

Tears flowed from Akbar's bloodied eyes

He looked at Husain heard his father's cries

And whispered "Mother Zahra has come for me"

He took his last breath, shuddered and sighed

Eyes open toward Husain, Ali Akbar passed away

Resting in his Father's arms, nothing more did hesay

Historians say that the moment Akbar died

Zainab left the camp, "Oh my Ali Akbar" she cried

Her chador now forgotten, so intense was her grief

The ladies followed her, wailing, teary eyed

The desert air echoed with their grief stricken cries

"Oh Ali Akbar, Ali Akbar" in unison they cried

"Take me to Akbar, show me where he lies

Have mercy on me, guide me,hear my painful cries

My Brother sits alone with His wounded, youthful son

Behind a cloud hides my moon, show me"Zainab cried

"In grief I'm now blinded, where must I go?

I'm searching for my son, look at my tears flow"

HearingZainab's cries Husain ran to her side

Covering her with His cloak, her face He tried to hide

And said "MyZainab , why did you leave the camp?

Oh daughter of Ali, dead is my joy and pride"

"Bruised with spears, he lies on the desert floor

What do you wish to see Oh Sister? Akbar is no more"

Marsiya n. 6:Qasim : The Pride and Joy

ImamHasans Pride and Joy: Most ReveredQasim (‘a)

("Zaqmee jo runmein Qasim agulpayrahun hua ")

When in the battle of KarbalaQasim fell from his mount

Blood soaked hisgarments, that became his shroud

The heavens shook with the Prophet's mournful cries

And the army's gleeful cries could be heard loud

They shouted" We've trampled the garden of Husain

Comesoldiers, douse the light ofHasan's lamp"

Upon hearing the shouts, toAbbas Husain turned

And said "ForQasim now we mustmourn.?

The battle is over,Qasim's fate is sealed

Death's shadow now approaches the child ofHasan "

"Call for Ali Akbar now, let us pray, let us pray

Bare headed we will pray that death be stayed"

TowardKaaba then the imam faced

To the heavens He looked, His hands raised

And cried out "Oh my wondrous, almighty God

From the hands of the enemy mayQasim besaved "

"You are the protector of all, Oh merciful God

Save the fatherless child from the evil swords"

And everyone prayed forQasim ,Hasan's son

in griefZainab's hair was hastily undone

AndBanu’s heart trembled and wept forQasim

And his mother cried "Tell me, how is my son?"

with shock,Abid's feverish body turned cold

AndQasim's little brother paled as fear took hold

While adults and children in the camp prayed

The army surroundedQasim , ready to slay

Their arrows and spears blocked his way, circled him

And thousands of swords flashed in the air

His face flushed, chest ridded with wounds

Blood dripped from his body, like sweat at high noon

He leaned over his horse, weak and giddy with thirst

Then a deadly arrow his chest pierced

The evilSheesh stabbed a spear into his heart

AsQasim fell, at his back an arrow lurched

Tariq's spear assaulted,Qasim cried out in pain

"Oh Imam, I've fallen, Oh come now dear Husain"

WithZulfiqaar in hand, Husain charged at the field

Seeing Him, the evil army trembled and keeled

In terror the soldiers scattered, their horses neighed

The killers panicked and fled, took to their heels

As the army took flight, trampled and rushed

With the hooves of a thousand horses,Qasim's was crushed

When Husain reachedQasim , what a sight He saw

His lips parched with thirst, with pain his body raw

Grief stricken Husain wrappedQasim in His arms

Qasim's soul departed, not a breath did he draw

Husain gatheredQasim's body, the limbs crushed, torn

Marked with hooves the body of the thirteen year old