They all still lie broken… and which hand will fix them?
Within them the bodies… of Mohammed’s children
O’ sword of Ali… O’ Imam Mehdi
Rise in with this time… And rebuild Baqee
* * *
Every tear cries out for your time to appear… In your hand justice
And yet hope, Master, is dying with each tear… With it our patience
The cries within these graves how often you hear… O’ last abundance
And we call for its rebuilding every year… Toward its brilliance
This is Heaven’s garden… it’s glory unspoken
And toward the whole world… its beauty is hidden
Why is truth hidden.. What a tragedy
Rise up with this time.. And rebuild Baqee
* * *
All its beauty left within Mohammed’s word… Now but history
In ignorance terrorists this truth concurred… Concurred its beauty
Much like the innocent blood their hands have poured… And without mercy
This garden of roses in hatred they burned… And every body
Their own evil they wished… ignored what they were blessed
In spite of Ali’s cries… Baqee they demolished
By it stood wailing… Your father Ali
Rise up with this time.. And rebuild Baqee
* * *
O’ what a belief that preaches such hatred… Through shed blood they wade
Upon us this oppression has been weighted… Waiting to be saved
To visit this garden your house encouraged… Yet it lies in shade
O’ light that removes darkness O’ awaited… From us our hope fades
How can hope be living… injustice its breeding
It feeds upon our cries… and how much we’re crying!
Demolished are graves.. Lives taken away
Rise up with this time.. And rebuild Baqee
* * *
Do they not understand the weight and the worth… Of this once graveyard
It signified these saints’ lives from death till birth… For them an award
Yet like shattered glass to us it was brought forth… With blood on each shard
We were born into oppression and with growth… This truth made life hard
We grew in a shadow… from our wounds our blood flows
Raised with this torn graveyard… we were raised in sorrow
We grew in darkness.. And fate let it be
Rise up with this time.. And rebuild Baqee
* * *
They wish to erase your memory from time… Of Haider’s children
Because in essence, truth, your household define… They keep you hidden
And how they call our calling for you a crime… What an oppression
“O’ Shia you have invented this bloodline… An innovation
O’ Shia you are cursed… with the dead you converse
Your saviour is a myth…. and your views we shall nurse”
To them we answer.. He will set us free
Rise up with this time.. And rebuild Baqee
* * *
Do we have such innocence that we cry out… Cry for your return
When within our hearts sits our sin and our doubt… Our goodness it burns
And yet so thirsty as if living in draught… To quench it we yearn
Every tear that flows down our cheeks for you shouts… Where else would we turn?
Under light of the moon… lie broken do these tombs
And yet the moon cries out… “Shia he will come soon!”
And beneath its light… Sits alone Baqee
Rise up with this time.. And rebuild Baqee
* * *
(London – 08/09/10)