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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=542961" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Memorial for the lives lost in Karbala was done</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">A Memorial for the lives lost in Karbala was done <br>And the bodies and the heads had finally become one <br>And Husain’s slain army was remembered by all <br>And the children of Mohammed lamented His son <br>For three days and nights in the desert they mourned <br>Embracing His grave as though never to be torn <br>Hearts lit like candles, their love for Him bloomed <br>Their sons, like flowers, scattered around His tomb <br>Remembering those killed, they cried out in grief <br>And clutched at their hearts and in pain swooned <br>“Where are those who watched over us?” they cried <br>“Now we wander, unveiled in broad daylight” <br>The air was fraught with sobs as the widows wept <br>And the noble sister’s face on His tomb did rest <br>And cried “Oh my beloved brother Husain <br>For three days and nights I’ve been your guest” <br>“Heartbroken and forlorn I am indeed <br>For I feel as though my services are not well-received” <br>“The will of the Imam, I will gladly accept <br>But the bruises on my arms I haven’t shown you yet <br>I am alone today, no friend in sight <br>Without you I am nothing, how can you forget?” <br>“I’ve lost sons and brothers and you in this war <br>An my back is bruised with the tip of the spear” “I cared for the orphans, the fathers lay dead <br>Their tender ages and prison, the pain and the dread <br>To divert them from their misery, I narrated your tale <br>I was their mother, their aunt, or their father instead” <br>“And I will live on to see them suffer and die <br>For it is not my destiny to see beloveds thrive” <br>“I had imagined that pilgrims would surround Your grave <br>And angels would gather to applaud the brave <br>And I would hold a memorial to remember the souls <br>But there is no one here today, I am amazed” <br>“By your graveside I sit alone, my Brother, and weep <br>And console my heart though my pain is deep” <br>Saying this, Zainab inconsolable, sobbed <br>And the tomb of the Prince shuddered and rocked <br>Basheer approached Abid and asked, head bowed <br>“May we leave Oh Imam? Your aunt is distraught” <br>Abid approached His aunt, weary and concerned <br>He asked “Dear aunt shall we return?” <br>Zainab replied, “As you wish my dear Imam” <br>And preparations to leave for Medina began <br>The tents were untied and the camels lined up <br>And around the holy graves gathered Ali’s clan <br>Bidding farewell to those who slept in their graves <br>The old and the young stood around in a daze <br>At the thought of leaving her brother’s tomb <br>Distraught, Zainab cried “How can I leave you alone? <br>In this forsaken desert away from us all <br>This empty, desolate city now your home” <br>“Where nothing grows and nothing lives <br>Such a place you have chosen to gather and rest” “Oh noble Lord of Karbala, farewell <br>Oh the sands that cradle His body, farewell <br>Dear grave of the noble lofty Prince, farewell <br>My brother, I part from you, bid me farewell” <br>“You do not answer me, ill is my fate indeed <br>For it means that you not pleased with my deeds” <br>“How do I face Medina having left you here? <br>What if the Prophet questions, how can I bear? <br>If I go to Najaf, the same question I will face <br>‘Where is Husain?’ That is all I will hear” <br>“You have not asked me to stay, so I must depart <br>But where do I go with my broken heart?” <br>“Won’t you come, hold my hand as I alight? <br>Won’t you shelter my being from strangers’ eyes? <br>Won’t Abbas or Akber come to bid me farewell? <br>Won’t you bring Asgher for whom Banu cries?” <br>“You are our leader, come lead us ahead <br>We’re ready, yet you sleep, the grave your bed” <br>“Although I weep my Brother and call out your name <br>You do not answer O Prince, I am amazed <br>If only you will come and embrace me now <br>I will leave for Medina, though never the same” <br>At this, the Prince answered “My dear Zainab farewell <br>Give my love to Soghra, my daughter who is ill”</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Mir+Babar+Ali+Anees">Mir Babar Ali Anees</a><div class=q>
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And the bodies and the heads had finally become one 
And Husain’s slain army was remembered by all 
And the children of Mohammed lamented His son 
For three days and nights in the desert they mo..."></div>
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