I turn my head… hoping to see Najaf
Maybe its scent… smells sweeter than the ash
* * *
I call to my father… O’ Ali
I am your daughter… O’ Ali
Come to Karbala… O’ Ali
Father
How much they’ve made me miss.. your Najaf
Land of love and bliss… your Najaf
Much sweeter than this… your Najaf
Father
* * *
Just maybe you
Can accept me as your visitor
Far away from the tents on fire
In the comfort of your ziyara
I miss Najaf
Just maybe you
Can help me forget all the screaming
The orphans for their father yearning
As the empty cribs are still swaying
I miss Najaf
* * *
Beneath your dome…
I can weep and I can complain
Beneath your dome…
We can both lament our Hussain
The land of love… calls out my name
And in the voice of my.. father
I hear you say… O’ my Zainab
Come and visit me my.. daughter
* * *
I hear you cry O’ Zainab
Beneath your garment I see standing a mountain
And clinging to it I see the orphaned children
Where is Hussain.. where is Hussain.. where is Hussain
Bring them with you to my shrine
Let me comfort your broken hearts here in Najaf
Together let us all weep and let us lament
Upon Hussain.. upon Hussain… upon Hussain
* * *
(Dearborn – 25/05/22)