A lion of Hyder’s lineage towards the river heads

All living beings are gripped with the fear of death

And Husayn’s heart is filled with sorrow, with grief

His eyes shed tears, this parting he dreads

 

The lantern of the tomb of Ali to be snuffed

A grieving brother mourns, no tears are enough

 

Restraint personified, yet to bear this loss is hard

He looks to the heavens and calls out to his God

How do I overcome this pain? It’s an arduous task

This brother is my army, my strength, my squad

 

How do I bear this pain, this parting, this grief?

This son of Ali is my sword, my shield

 

At the thought of this loss, Husayn’s tears flow

A brother he has raised in his arms must now go

Gut wrenching is the agony, the sorrow, the pain

Oh death rush towards me, save me from this blow

 

I cannot bid him farewell, I cannot watch him leave

This burden I cannot carry, this brother I cannot grieve

 

This youth is a gem from Hyder’s treasures my God

He is my Hamza, he is my Jaafer e Tayaar

He is a son to me, this brother of mine

There are many in my home, but he is the essence my Lord

 

He is my strength, my asset, my force, my pride

I sense the presence of Ali with him by my side

 

I have parted with Zaynab’s sons, my army is gone

I bid farewell to Qasim, his crushed body I found

I wept at his death, the loss tore at my heart

With the loss of this brother, I cannot live on

 

It is my wish that I go first, I take my last breath

And this brother be taken after my death

 

Husayn hugged his waist, the sorrow intense

To bid farewell to Zaynab, Abbas headed to the tents

Sukayna ran to him holding the empty waterskin

He hugged her close, kissed her face and said

 

I have talked about water to console your thirst

Now I head to the river, the army I will pierce

 

Pointing to her dry lips, she whispered, too weak

I am distraught with thirst, I can hardly speak

Banu sat by Asgher, rocking his cradle and cried

Of this unrelenting thirst, my baby will die

 

Do bring the Imam here, show him the baby’s state

His pale, lifeless form, his shallow breath, his heart rate

 

Abbas knelt by the cradle, I am here, he said

To give up my life for the children, to die in their stead

I await the Imam’s approval, to the river I must go

Maybe you can ask? he said bowed head

 

Help me get approval for battle so I can leave

Its my job to get the water, your help I seek

 

Oh brother, she replied, do not ask me this

To ask this of Husayn I would be terribly amiss

You are his strength, his brother, you are his joy

If something happens to you, how could he ever forgive?

 

I would carry the blame for the loss of Murtuza’s son

That for my children I sent you to the enemies’ den

 

You are right, Zaynab cried, we cannot send him away

To bid farewell to Abbas, my brother cannot be swayed

God watches the thirsty children, His will shall be done

Without Abbas, alone is my dear brother Husayn

 

This is no time to intercede to persuade the Imam

Who will be there for my brother if Abbas is gone?

 

And Abbas’ wife cried, let us not speak of death

To quench the children’s thirst, to the river he must head

Toddlers and young children have not had a drop for days

Unless their thirst is quenched, they will die I am afraid

 

To my Lord I pray, to the merciful God I turn

For the sake of these children, for water I yearn

 

Carrying Sukayna in his arms, Abbas went to Husayn

Bare headed the Imam sat on the desert plains

How long must I watch the suffering children? He asked

This little one will die unless for water I arrange

 

In his cradle Asgher suffers, restless, distraught

Pray permit me to go so water can be brought

 

Leave for the river, if you must, Husayn said

The waterskin you will fill, arrows will pierce your chest

As you please my dear Sukayna, send him away

What you have asked of him my child, do you accept?

 

He will not return, on the river banks he will sleep

You cry for water today, but for him you will weep

 

You do not know what awaits if Abbas leaves

Your blue, parched lips he should have never seen

Now pray that victorious, he returns to you

That the loss of my brother I do not grieve

 

When he hauls the waterskin, may God keep him safe

May he triumph over his enemies, a path of victory is paved

 

Bowing her head, Sukayna tearfully said

I did not ask him for water, he will attest

When we saw the state of Asgher in Banu’s arms

I handed him the waterskin, for that I fret

 

I didn’t tell him my mouth was dry or my tongue white

Much of my thirst I hid from his sight

 

Husayn hugged the girl close, his heart in pain

In respect and honor, Abbas bowed to Husayn

Heartbroken, distraught, the Imam hugged Abbas

Embracing his dear brother, never to meet again

 

Inconsolable, he wept, the parting difficult to bear

The sound of Ali’s cries could be heard in the air

 

With a kiss to Husayn’s feet, Abbas readied to march

The Imam’s protector, his friend, his brother, his guard

Our peace goes with him, women cried from the tents

From Fatimah’s home departed Ali’s emblem alas

 

His departure a calamity for the saadaat one and all

Husayn now all alone, no ally to call

 

The enemy cowered at Abbas’ repute, his zeal

Hearts hid within chests, chests in armors concealed

He is coming, they called, a warrior unrivaled, unmatched

The traitors ran helter-skelter, took to their heels

 

The son of Hyder is coming, the panic was sheer

From the river banks, beasts fled in fear

 

Each despicable soldier fearing for his life

Dread filled their beings, fearful their hearts vile

Retreating, cowering, unable to withstand

At the lion’s approach, terrified they would die

 

In their haste and confusion, chaos gripped the ranks

Abbas is coming, they cried, fleeing the river backs

 

Fierce as a lion, a master of the battleground

Devoted to his brother, with loyalty crowned

Strong, fearless, daunting, valiant, bold

Imposing in presence, heroic, renowned

 

Seasoned fighters quivered at his sight

Beasts by the river cringed in fright

 

Veteran fighters abandoned the battlefield in fear

Youth and old shaken as his arrival was near

Swords hid in their sheaths, seeking shelter from his strike

Flags furled around poles, their discomfort clear

 

Banners fluttered wildly as the battalions ran

Hooves of fleeing horses marked the desert sand

 

And the glorious Abbas stepped out in the heat

Victory swooned around him, kissing his feet

Stately his being, exalted the banner high

In his luminous palms, like lightening indeed

 

The grains of sand, like rubies aglow

The desert seemed verdant in the green flag’s shadow

 

The brilliance of the flag, Abbas’ glorious countenance

The moon cloaked its face, its limits it sensed

Abbas stepped onto the field, a glorious halo trailed

The desert radiant with the warrior’s effulgence

 

The flag unmatched, exceptional in grace

And Abbas with a resplendent, striking face

 

With the light of the Pantejan his being bestowed

Fairies hovered around, in reverence bowed

The emblem a protection for the helpless and meek

His being a promise of deliverance to suffering souls

 

As though a mast to a ship to Kauthar sails

Divine was the flag, from the heavens it hailed

 

Summon a suitable steed, everyone said

For the son of Ali, one with a graceful gait

A match for this rider, a refulgent horse

A precious stallion, the saddle with gems inlaid

 

A piebald mount with unparalleled speed

A stallion akin to Duldul’s breed

 

And such a steed was readied for Hyder’s son

An Arabian horse amongst hundreds, one

A distinct mount, an elegant charge

With a gallop like fairies in gardens run

 

Superior to the Phoenix, with abundant grace

With hooves on the earth, in the heavens his face

 

 

 

A gorgeous countenance, like an iris bouquet,

Eyes such that those of a doe outweighed

Legs and hooves sculpted, beautiful in form

Lustrous, broad chested, magnificence displayed

 

Heavenly maidens swore by his beauty, his form

Restless to gallop, upon the army to swarm

 

Resplendent, Abbas mounted the steed

Tucking his cloak around his waist, ready, Godspeed

Stroked the horse’s mane, for the battle prepared

A sight to behold, a splendid scene indeed

 

The horse in control, a spear in one hand

Stirrups slivers of the moon, a spectacle grand

 

Lets go he said, and the restless steed charged

Like the wind it flew, through the desert it barged

Like the scent of flowers leaving a garden behind

Unstoppable it seemed, like a gust discharged

 

Lightening no comparison for its swiftness, its speed

A dust storm arose from the hooves of the steed

 

Agitating the sandy floor of the desert it flew

The churning dust fragrant, touched by its hooves

Anointing the heavens, the dust swirled up to the stars

This was the soil of Karbala, the firmaments knew

 

The marks of its hooves glowed on the sand

And with pride the earth at the heavens glanced

 

The stature of Abbas, the dignity of the mount

Heavenly beings lauded, the splendor avowed

Eulogies hailed in breathless awe

No mere mortal could compare, was thus endowed

 

Every human a subject, he was the king

Superior to angels, above all things

 

Like Hyder, he filled onlookers with awe

The earth seemed to shrink, his radiance they saw

Like the chapter of Ash Shams, his face aglow

A Quranic scholar, knew its verses, its law

 

Like pearls embedded, teeth dazzling white

Emitting a radiance, darkness flew at their sight

 

Dignity his essence, cowardice from him flees

Triumph has always bowed at the doors of Ali

Victory sought his being, seeking to please

To incur his displeasure a calamity indeed

 

Not apparent that Abbas had not eaten for days

With unrelenting endurance, he stood unfazed

 

He called out, lodging his spear onto the sands

Faces paled at the sound, cowardly hearts sank

Shaming renowned orators with his delivery, his speech

His bold introduction, his eloquence, his command

 

This was the son of Hyder, the speaking Quran

Unmatched in expression, of oration a paragon

 

I am a link to the bastion of honor, he called

I am the son of the one privileged, raised above all

I am the heir of the one in posterity praised

Aligned with the righteous, submitted to God

 

The chosen flag bearer of the Prophet’s clan

Obedient to Husayn, in service to his plan

 

Thousands have died at the Zulfiqar’s strike

Chests wrapped in armors crumbled with fright

Jibraeel’s wings bear a mark of that sword

Shields sliced through with unbeatable might

 

About the strike of that blade, dead souls will speak

Marhab and Antar shelter from Ali’s sword seek

 

I come as an emissary of thirsty kids

Women holding toddlers with dry parched lips

I am Husayn’s shield, I am the sword of Ali

I am a slave of Husayn and an emperor of kings

 

I will suffer a thousand wounds, I will face every blade

But back to the camps water I will take

 

While everyone in the tents is distraught with thirst

But toddlers especially are suffering the worst

Pray where is your mercy, where are your hearts?

On a blameless family you make water scarce

 

In this heat they languish, their suffering untold

You wreak havoc on babies and laugh in mirth

 

We are ready for your cruelty, willing to die

Forbearance is our mark, from death we do not shy

Encircled by cruelty, our children weakened by thirst

They will not live too long if water is denied

 

Even if you find fault with the adults amongst us

What have the children done to be treated thus?

 

Under the blazing sun, in the raging desert heat

Withered is the garden of Mohammed indeed

The mouths of little ones open with thirst

Surely they will die, water they need

 

Their dehydrated bodies feverish and frail

Their lips are blue, their faces pale

 

We will not allow water, the evil Shimr called

With arrows and spears we will respond, he bawled

There is only one way to quench the children’s thirst

Pledge allegiance to Yazid once and for all

 

Even if toddlers crawl onto the battlefield

With spears we shall quench their thirst indeed

 

The cruelty of the words stung at Abbas’ heart

Shocked at the malice, the brutality stark

He reined in the horse, readied his steed

His sword eager to face the men evil and dark

 

O wretched souls, here I come, he called out

For your hateful words you will pay no doubt

 

Ignorant you are of Husayn’s station, his rank

Kauthar bows to him, proud the heavenly span

The master of paradise, righteous, gentle, and kind

His foes by Allah and the Prophet are banned

 

The son of Fatimah spares you from his wrath

Though to the stream you block his path

 

Saying this he drew his sword from the sheath

In panic, the earth to the Almighty did plead

Lightening lauded the blade, the sun watched in awe

The heavens nervously shuddered with unease

 

The moon’s face darkened, sliced with fear

Dread engulfed the army, the panic was sheer

 

Lightening ripped across thunderous skies

Chanting Quranic verses, the heavens eulogized

The trembling of the earth was felt far and near

The heavens red and disheveled, clearly traumatized

 

An epitome of Hyder, the army cowered in retreat

Jibreel remembered Khyber and the Jewish defeat

 

Fortunes, wellbeing, luxuries, peace

Contentment, safety, power, and prestige

Rule, kingship, respite, and comfort

Command, endurance, rank, and relief

 

All extinct, gone by Abbas’ presence on the field

At the glint of his sword everything had keeled

Death strikes, lets run, they screamed in fright

Forget the battle, we need to save our lives

Pride and egos vanquished, shamelessly they ran

Safety was paramount, nothing else seemed right

 

The banks of the river will be drenched with blood

Once he is here, all escape routes will be shut

 

The battlefield darkened by thousands of spears

They swarmed by the river, scurried in panic sheer

Like a dark thunderstorm, hovering over the field

A tornado of arrows over the battle frontier

 

A stampede of horses, carnage all around

God’s wrath had descended on the battleground

 

Abbas’ sword flashed like the Almighty’s rage

Enslaved by dread, there was mayhem, rampage

Breathless with terror, chaos ensued

The blade wreaked havoc, furious, untamed

 

His assault on the army like a ferocious storm

At the doors of death, hundreds swarmed

 

Death clung to the blade, the sword never alone

The field strewn with helmets, sliced and torn

The sword reigned supreme, victoriously proud

So evil was the army, no reason to atone

 

Branding every heart with its dominance, its skill

A Quranic ayat on doomed minds instilled

 

As the B in Bismillah, its radiance paramount

Like the Zulfiqar, esteemed, peerless, renowned

Proficient, tenacious, commanding respect

Unmatched its sharpness, its aptitude, its clout

 

Its strike swift, impeccable, the slain men in shock

Cleaving the body without shedding a blood drop

 

The ire of the sword, the rebellious army felt

Spears and arrows fumbled, facing the daunting threat

Strings of bows snapped by Death’s own hands

Veteran warriors on the field broke into a sweat

 

Men scrambled for shelter, a nook, a hiding place

Arrows littered the sands, broken, effaced

 

Maces, arrows, daggers galore

Broken into pieces by the peerless sword

The army in disarray, upheaval in the ranks

A tumultuous battle, a chaotic uproar

 

Survival was impossible even if one could fly

Abbas’ prowess in battle raised a hue and cry

 

The blade was on fire, it decimated ranks

Like rust decaying iron, it destroyed, out flanked

Not allowing a moment to draw a sword in defense

Armors in tatters, with fear hearts sank

 

Swords hid in their sheaths, fearing the fierce attack

Undrawn, jittery spears, clung to soldiers’ backs

 

It rose and swooped like a lightning bolt

Hell’s doors opened, all escape routes were closed

The horse, the warrior, the blade swept through the field

In turbulence the army’s ranks and rows

 

Slain by a single strike, falling in twos or fours

Desperate to be rescued from death’s doors

 

Toward the river Abbas headed, breaking through the ranks

The army scattered in panic, in terror their hearts sank

The injured dropped their swords, took their last breath

Every soldier in sheer panic, fled the river banks

 

The banks emptied of men, the army did cede

The odor of defeat clung to the fleeing steeds

 

Those terribly wounded lay moaning on the sands

The river access had been cleared by Abbas’ very hands

Fearless in his zeal, unstoppable in pursuit

Now the only one by the river, his victory was grand

 

This battle we have lost, they hollered as they ran

The evil army had been ejected from the river banks

 

Abbas’ arrival at the river was, by Victory, acclaimed

Wiping blood off his sword, he sheathed his blade

The tribute of Ilyas could be heard loud and clear

Oh son of Ali, he called, due to you are accolades

 

None can withstand the charge of your blade

Your arrived at the river, its stature you have raised

 

The sight of water breaks my heart, Abbas cried

Hundreds I have battled to get to this site

My master has not had a drop for three days

Children wail in the tents, all vessels are dry

 

Their pain, their misery, floods my heart, my soul

To quench their parched lips is now my only goal

 

He drew close to the stream, as it gushed and dashed

Waves surged with joy, at his feet the water splashed

Thrilled by his arrival, pleading for his touch

Fished lurched towards his banner, he was here at last!

 

The water sparkled in the sun with euphoric bliss

Waves radiant with love for the Prophet’s kin

 

The horse stood tall, its head held high

Abbas unbuckled the saddle so it could imbibe

The steed shook his head, as if to say

Zuljanah suffers with thirst, his lips are dry

 

I will not partake of water, in fidelity to Husayn

I am part of his clan, so I will restrain

 

Exemplary is your fealty, Abbas whispered

Your devotion is laudable, you stand undeterred

You have the badge of honor, you have paid your dues

Those with fortitude will be honorably referred

 

I too forgo the water, I turn my face away

I long to quench the thirst of Husayn today

 

Abbas filled the waterskin, the drink he shunned

The savage, feral soldiers flooded the waterfront

They swarmed all around him, lusting for his blood

Like a mob of wild dogs out on a hunt

 

Do not let him leave, they screamed in rage

Slay this valiant warrior, do not be fazed

 

Surrounded by hordes, but the horse was too fast

It leaped over the swarm, leaving the men aghast

Away, Abbas shouted and hearts leaped in their chests

And his seething steed crushed bodies to the sands

 

The waterskin on his arm, valiantly he fought

A lone, thirsty warrior, the sun blazing hot

 

Hundreds of arrows hurtled at his chest

They ravaged his body, his blood was their quest

A spear cleaved at him, tore at his arm

Severing his hand, Abbas turned in distress

 

Oh my Lord, he cried, the army bolder now

Aiming for his other arm, they sliced it to the ground

 

The banner now fallen, reposed on the sands

Abbas clutched the waterskin in his teeth alas

Determined to get water to the waiting kids

But an arrow hit the bag and all hope crashed

 

He staggered on horseback, tumbled to the ground

What must Abbas do now that the water is all gone?

He sat up on the sands, amidst the raging attacks

Waterskin under his knee, the banner in his lap

In an effort to rise, he stooped over and crouched

Felt the blows of a mace on his head, on his back

 

The Lion of Allah in anguish cried out

Abbas’ head battered, blood pouring out

 

He turned to look at his assailant, his foe

An arrow slammed into his eye, a vile, deadly blow

He did not flinch or cower or recoil or balk

An overwhelming presence despite the agony, the throes

 

As though a mighty lion, in command of the field

Blood dripping from his eye, the agony concealed

 

From his severed arms blood gushed to the sands

In throes of death on a strange, forsaken land

Pray hurry to my side, he called out to Husayn

To not look at you once more, I cannot withstand

 

Please come my Imam, for behead me they will

May I see you once more, may my wish be fulfilled

 

The plains shuddered at the grief in Husayn’s eyes

The vile soldiers cheered with gleeful cries

Your beheading is close, the hour draws near

Come, hurry, wish your brother goodbye

 

We blocked his route, encircled his path

Ambushed, he was slaughtered in a bloodbath

 

Body ravaged by arrows, severed arms

His flag ripped and torn lies on the sands

The shreds all asunder from the trampling hooves

The empty waterskin lies on the river banks

 

The flagbearer today will take his last breath

Behead him we will, when he is dead

 

Husayn reeled from the impact of the cruel words

Grief gripped his soul, his vision now blurred

Akber grabbed his side, hugged him close

Which way do I go? Husayn’s cries could be heard

 

Where do I find my moon, hidden from sight?

Grief clouds my vision, is it day or night?

 

This is the day of Hamza and Jaffer’s death

This is the day of my dear Hasan’s death

This is the day to mourn Hyder’s loss

This is the day my brother took his last breath

 

Only Zaynab can know the depth of my pain

Abbas is gone, I will not see him again

 

Far from home, in this desolate land

His lifeless body strewn on the sands

I mourn once again Ali’s death today

Devastated by the loss, lonely I stand

 

The death of Abbas is my death dear son

It’s also the death of Mohsin and Hasan

 

Akber led Husayn to Abbas’ side

Pray console your heart my father, he cried

Abbas lives and breathes do not mourn him yet

On the river banks he awaits, he is alive

 

I will carry his bruised body in my arms today

Let us take him back to the tents, do not dismay

 

Nearer they drew to the body on the sands

They found him dying as they advanced

His body shuddered at Husayn’s cries

On the desert floor were strewn his severed hands

 

Husayn’s heart sank, his legs gave way

He collapsed next to Abbas, dark now the day

 

A brother watched a brother drenched in blood

Husayn’s heart sank, tears did flood

And Abbas cried out to Akber, O my son

Hold onto my master, care for him you must

 

His heart is ravaged by my approaching death

How do I leave him thus and take my last breath

 

Husayn placed his lips on Abbas’ forehead

Even in death you worry for me, he wept

Speak about you my brother, tell me how it feels

Praise be to God, I am well, Abbas said

 

I am at peace my master, with you by my side

My soul is restful, I am ready to die

 

I see God’s grace surrounding my soul

Father Ali stands by, praises he extols

I see brother Hasan, with tears in his eyes

For Lady Fatimah they wait, I leave life’s shores

 

Angels stand in rows, emitting a radiant light

The gates of heaven ajar, the Holy Prophet arrives

 

Ever devoted in his love for his brother, his Imam

Both in life and in death, of fealty a paragon

The pain of parting from Husayn clutched at his heart

With each breath, he knew the time closer had drawn

 

Oh what a glorious end to a magnificent life!

In the Imam’s arms, death by his side!

 

I am dying my Imam, Abbas whispered to Husayn

Leaving you unguarded, tormenting is the pain

In the throes of death, my strength now departs

Your bondsman is helpless, thus is ordained

 

Where, my master, will I find an Imam like you?

My heart cannot bear to wish you adieu

 

To Akber he said, my dearest child

My prince, my nephew, come wish me goodbye

Heed my words dearest Akber, as I take my leave

Watch over Fatimah’s son, do not leave his side

 

Guard him with your life, never leave him alone

To you I entrust him, my precious son

 

Abbas rested his head on Husayn’s feet

He shuddered at the parting, allegiance his creed

Blood dripped from his lashes, as he gazed at Husayn

Despair in his eyes, as life did recede

 

His head dropped to the right, Abbas was gone

Husayn watching his brother, bereft, forlorn

 

Striking his forehead, Husayn cried out

My brother is gone and I live on without

My father’s wealth lost in this alien land

The weight of this loss is crushing no doubt

 

The day has darkened, my brother is no more

Insufferable is this parting, wounding my very soul

 

In this forsaken desert, far from home

The very fabric of my clan is ripped and torn

My brother, my friend, my supporter, my shield

My backbone, my ally, my companion I mourn

 

His death is my death, I live no more

My children are orphaned, I am at death’s door

 

My arms are of no use, my back is bent

My ardent disciple to the heaven ascends

In this desolate land, friendless I remain

My protector is gone, oh what a loss I lament

 

Where is he who was always by my side?

The one of whom the world was terrified

Covering Abbas’s body with his robe, Akber said

I beseech you oh father, to the tents we must head

I hear the wailing of the children, the ladies’ cries

Abbas’ son awaits, his eyes filled with dread

 

I worry that the child will come running this way

If Sukayna sees Abbas, she will die of dismay

 

In despair Husayn arose, toward the tents he turned

With the banner Akber followed, heart heavy with concern

Abbas’ horse walked alongside his head bowed low

The stirrups were torn, the saddle overturned

 

Abbas’ sword dragged low, marking the desert path

His bloodstained armor draped across the horse’s back

 

The wounded steed bleeding, his forehead gashed

Chest punctured and bruised, where arrows had attacked

Turning oft to glance behind him, as though to say

There lies my master, mangled and slashed

 

Holding the reins, Akber walked along his side

The tragedies of the day, Abbas’ death had magnified

 

As though feeling the devastation, the lonesome flag sagged

On its green fabric, splatters of blood alas

The emblem soaked in blood, a heartbreaking sight

In mourning it seemed, at the tragedy aghast

 

It seemed to call out, to wail in grief

My master is no more, on the sands he bleeds

 

Thus they arrived at the tents, oh what a sight

Akber stepped forward with the flag on his side

Abbas’ son ran towards them, his eyes wide with shock

What has happened? What does this mean? he cried

 

Where is my father?  Why has his steed returned?

He is no more, Husayn cried, for him we now mourn

 

Wailing the child ran back into the tents

Panting and sobbing to his mother he went

What is wrong? she cried, Why do you weep like this?

I am an orphan mother, my father I lament

 

To fetch water he left, drenched in blood he lies

On the banks of the river, no one by his side

 

Parting the door of the tent, Fizza cried out

Fatimah’s son is here, grief-stricken no doubt

Gather around Husayn, console him we must

Unbearable is the loss of a brother so devout

 

The passing of Abbas is the passing of all hope

Tell the wailing children, with the thirst they must cope

 

The news shook the tents, it slammed the tender hearts

Faced turned pale, thoughts with grief ripped apart

Women hugged children, sobbing in despair

Some wailed, some fainted, all hope did depart

 

Shaken to the core, Sukayna helter-skelter ran

Her hair undone, laden with the desert sand

 

Lodging the flag on the sands, Akber stood bereft

Women circled around, beating their chests

At the heart-rending sight, Husayn cried out

Abbas is gone dear Zaynab, by the river he rests

 

Abbas died and I live to see this fateful day

To watch his wife mourn, to hear his children wail

 

For the son of Ali, the entire clan mourned

Women undid their hair, with grief their hearts torn

They wept at this death that sealed their fate

All sobbed at the thought of Abbas never coming home

 

Sukayna cried in misery hugging the flag to her chest

She felt most this loss, she wept at his death

 

Hiding her face in the flag, to Abbas she called

Where did you go, dear uncle, leaving us all?

I asked for water, I should not have done so

You left to quench my thirst, it is my fault

 

My father is all alone, without you at his side

Come back to me, my thirst I will hide

 

Enough Oh Anees, pray write no more

Piercing through hearts, your words reach the soul

Oh son of Ali, summon me to your tomb

Do not leave me to die in Hind, I implore

 

May my grave be lit by the light of your tomb

In the sands of Karbala may I be entombed