Today was the day that Imam Hussain (pbuh) left for Karbala. With the month of Muharram peering over us, I present this poem where our beloved Imam (pbuh) speaks to the grave of the holy Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) before he departs for Hajj and eventually Karbala... Written to the tune https://youtube/watch?v=6AlI_GLhIOo --- Goodbyes theyve said... are best unsaid Silent I leave O’ Mohammed They say speak words to who you love... and bid farewell in your silence So at your grave, silent I stand... left torn apart by your absence For your Badr and your Uhud... they seek my blood for their vengeance I see my death before my eyes... and with it smell Heaven’s fragrance Not what I am... for who I am To battle your beloved is led Silent I leave O’ Mohammed I stand withered beside your grave... and scatter upon it roses These roses beside you shall grow... whilst your beloved, death approaches O’ grandfather, when they blossom... your beloved Karbala reaches And the day they wither away... your beloved’s head a spear raises As each rose grows... grows your sorrows Till to death’s hand Hussain is fed Silent I leave O’ Mohammed They say to gift but a present... toward your love before you leave And to you my life I present... so that in my absence you grieve And your absence O’ grandfather... shows me how love, it can deceive I gift to you what I have left... so your happiness I achieve That which you want... shall my soul haunt Yet I welcome my death and dread Silent I leave O’ Mohammed I cannot speak from my heartache... so I let you see and listen You see alone in a far land... your Hussain and what will happen You see on us, the pangs of thirst... a camp full of thirsty women A camp that when I die shall burn... taking captive every orphan This our future... for it prepare For they’ll complain to you, Ahmed Silent I leave O’ Mohammed Despite my tears, O’ grandfather... I want you to my courage heed And if my Lord wants my head raised... upon a spear, than I am pleased I will not let a tyrant rule... a revolution I shall lead It matters not if my body... upon Karbala’s dust shall bleed I shall revolt... for I was taught To be free and never oppressed Silent I leave O’ Mohammed It matters not, if from my thirst... nations shall weep and remember Or if taken from my body... is my head and raised on a spear It matters not if my child... within my arms they would murder I’ll throw his blood toward the sky... and complain to my Creator When blood shall rain... know that Hussain Has been killed and severed, his head Silent I leave O’ Mohammed * * * (Istanbul – 13/11/12)
Posted on: Fri, 03 Oct 2014 18:51:20 +0000