Ummul Baneen came walking… in tears to Karbala
Scattered bodies are all that met her two eyes
And she is torn between two… one lies by the river
The other is Hussein and over them she cries
* * *
She is greeted in this land by a broken and severed head
She cries, who are you O’ who over you tears of blood I shed
He answers O’ mother to this land of sorrow I was led
Here sits my head and there my body to the arrows was fed
He answers I am Hussein… swords for me were thirsty
Now they are all refreshed whilst I died in my thirst
Wanted me did Shimr’s sword… but when it gazed at me
It regretted severing my head, it was cursed
* * *
She walks and around her, her sorrow circles her and taunts her
And kneels by a broken body left alone by the river
He cries I did not wish to see me the eyes of my mother
There lies my eye, there lies by hands and by them lies my banner
Drawn in screams is this picture… and it just engulfs her
In her arms she cradles Abbas’ severed hands
Like when Hussein stood alone… his voice a sorrowful tone
By broken bodies alone Ummul Baneen stands
* * *
Tell me Abbas wasn’t your tongue for that water so thirsty
Much like the arrows were thirsty for the blood in your body
The flag of your brother without your hands how did you carry
Why not rise up from your death and with your hands Hussein bury
You said before you were slain… O’ self after Hussein
How can you drink when for water he is thirsty?
Did the army not shed tears… when your hands they severed
When they shot a rain of arrows on your body
* * *
Why does Hussein not talk to me with on a spear his head raised
Only his words would end the dark oppression that are my days
For him even the arrows cry a song of beauty and praise
Between his head and his body lie the beauty of his ways
Where’s justice after Hussein… what destiny remains
Even the sword that cut his head curses itself
Alone Hussein’s banner stands… by his shattered body
By his throat severed after it complained of thirst
* * *
Abbas’s severed hands direct her to more severed bodies
These beautiful angels were crushed and shattered by the horses
What meets her eyes tears her up and it breaks her into pieces
There lies Jafar and Abdullah and upon Uthman she grieves
Which body should she bury… her hands don’t allow her
Upon each body they shake and ache and tremble
Once she held them in her arms… now blood upon her palms
In the essence of her heart tragedy is weaved
* * *
In her mind till her death she sees his children’s cry and wails
And haunts her through day and night this tragedy and this tale
Like when Fatima in anger complained toward the nail
She complains to the swords thirsty for the blood of whom who fell
She complains to Karbala… why did you not help him
With his blood upon your sand you’ve become Heaven
Do you not cry at this sight… seventy two bodies
With them Hussein and Abbas all of my children
* * *
She cries O’ Fatima have you seen what they’ve done to your son
Upon his neck rested Shimr’s sword and with him was no-one
This family of angels broken bodies they have become
The beauty of truth was killed and with it all justice has gone
I ask by your broken rib… Zahra and your worship
How would your heart break if this sight met your two eyes
For my heart lies torn in two… one lies by the river
One lies with Hussein tell me O’ what a demise
* * *
(London – 19/05/10)