My pen touches the paper,
But my friend, how do I write this letter,
I send my salaams to you and say inna lilah,
And I swear by the book and the Kaaba,
By the messenger,
My grandfather.They forced me to flee Medina,
To leave the graves of my grandfather and my mother,
To leave behind me,
My beloved daughter Sughra,
I left her in tears,
Each night,
She awakens from dreams full of fears.My brother,
I have arrived in this foreign land of Karbala,
Everywhere I look,
I see soldier after soldier,
All carrying spears, arrows and in their hands,
A dagger,
They want my head for slaughter.Oh my friend,
I cried to my sister,
Telling her,
I have no supporters,
She said, Habib will come from Kufa,
He is to me like a brother,
I send my salaams upon his valour.They listen to a drunkard and a dictator,
A man who falsely claims to be a scholar,
A man who does not know religion or it's pillars.Oh Habib,
You have been my true friend for years,
Come to Karbala,
Your friend needs a supporter.My daughters are terrified,
Yet from me these fears,
They try to hide,
All their happiness has died,Oh my loyal brother,
Remembers you in her nightly prayer,
Is my young daughter,
Sakina.
Please don't disappoint her.As I stand here in the burning heat,
I know our army will taste from the cup of victory,
And despite their size,
The transgressors will face defeat.My friend,
I write this letter in pain and sorrow,
I don't know whether I will be alive tomorrow,Please visit me in this deserted borough,
As tears from my eyes continue to flow,
I sign this letter,
Oh my brother,
As the son of the Prophet's daughter,
Ibn e Zahra.
YOU ARE READING
When the Skies Wept Blood
PoesieAsalam Aleikum, peace be upon you to all my brothers and sisters. I offer my sincerest condolences to the entire Muslim Ummah for the anniversary of the martyrdom of the Holy Prophet's grandson, Hussain, son of Ali, who was martyred on the 10th day...