You are the son of Ali, he’s the son of Mohammed
You’re the hands, he is the eyes, I am the tears that he’s shed
I gave away my hands… he gave away his hands
* * *
I see the moon in front of me, it is crouching
To quench its thirst or stay in thirst it’s deciding
It turns to me and says, mother, are you watching?
How can I drink when for water the sun’s waiting?
If he is the eyes, I know he is watching from his tent
If I am the hands, water from my hands I must present
Would he think, on these sands… he gave away his hands
* * *
I tell him, son, he is the sun, he is the eyes
You are his hands and you must wipe the tears he cries
And if he falls, to break his fall, his hand it tries
You are his hands and this duty in your hands lies
A duty that I have whispered to you from your cradle
I gave him a pair of hands to assist him in battle
So that he understands… he gave away his hands
* * *
They wanted hands and I gave them only a pair
But I gave them away without shedding a tear
If from your arms, O’ my beloved, you two hands tear
Know that for him, I gave my hands without a care
Remember your mother if your hands are torn from your arms
And I shall remember my fingers were clenched by your palms
Upon far away lands… he gave away his hands
* * *
You are the hands, he is the eyes, but what am I?
You shall find me in every tear the eye would cry
I’m the shadow of his sorrow, don’t ask me why
You see him hurt, your mother’s hurt, let your heart die
I raised you in such a way, that you’re the father of zeal
If he’s in pain then I’m in pain, and pain you would feel
If your zeal disbands… he gave away his hands
* * *
If you’re in thirst, remember first, that he’s thirsty
You are his hands, water in his hands let him see
Do not dare drink, his thirst and not your thirst hurts me
O’ my son the water in your hands throw away
Fill up that canteen with water and return to Hussain
Even if you die from thirst, don’t let thirst with him remain
And if thirsty he stands… he gave away his hands
* * *
If to the tents with the water, Abbas, you ride
Know that they shall come attacking from every side
When an arrow within your eye, it shall reside
And your hands tear, only then I shall have my pride
And even when you lie meeting your end upon the ground
I want to hear “O’ brother forgive me” as your last sound
Your absence he withstands… he gave away his hands
* * *
(London – 09/12/12)