Abu Fadhil… they are thirsty
That water… throw it away
* * *
He kneels and watches them… anger fights patience in him
Each child has a problem…. because the thirst is mighty
One child’s skin has turned white… tongue as dry as desert night
One child cries from her fright… “Abu Fadhil, I’m thirsty”
One hand like a fist clenches… one hand for his sword reaches
From one knee the moon rises… crying “I will make them pay”
* * *
I walk to him, my head bowed… there’s nothing of which I’m proud
On my grief I place a shroud… and say “Hussain, they might die”
He says “brother, if you go… go with you will my shadow
The girls are thirsty, I know… but who will hold my flag high?
You remind me of Haider… the river is your Khaybar
I’ll let you get the water… but don’t let me say goodbye”
* * *
To the river he sets course… a lion riding a horse
What is death, their thirst is worse… no enemy dare come near
I wade in the blood I shed… my white feathers turn blood-red
By angels my horse is led… I am the man without fear
From the daughters of Zahra… you have withheld that water
In tears I saw their father… and you will pay for each tear
* * *
I have reached the river bank… I think of when they last drank
Now their pupils have all sank… into the whites of their eyes
I’ve never admitted this… but my tongue burns in dryness
Should I remain waterless… water in front of me lies
In my two hands water flows… and to my lips it comes close
I remember their sorrows… and from my hands water flies
* * *
I cry, O’ self, don’t you dare… when their thirst is their despair
They gasp for it like it’s air… don’t you let it touch your tongue
The water I make it drown… and I scare it with my frown
And I strangle my thirst down… make me thirsty shall no-one
My hands fill up the canteen… to return to them I’m keen
The river can’t bare this scene… it’s crying “where have you gone?”
* * *
Toward the tents I would ride… their thirst still hurts me inside
Behind a tree they would hide… and they’d cut off my right hand
Then my left hand I can’t find… an arrow pierces my mind
Blood from my head makes me blind… and then I fall to the sand
I look out toward the tents… and hear as each girl laments
My brother my heart confronts… my goodbye to him I send
* * *
(London – 09/10/14)