O’ dead we’ve returned… with the children… we cry “Hussain”
Forgive us, our wrists… have faded skin… from Yazid’s chains
And we’ve brought the heads here, one by one
To your bodies they shall be returned… we cry “Hussain”
* * *
Is that Taf on the horizon… our steps heavy, and grabs my cloak the orphans
The desert heat is familiar… it’s as if crying out from thirst are our tongues
And the colour of sand has changed… from earth tones to blood-red the sand has become
And the sky begins to rain blood… forgive me brother, as bathed in blood I come
I tried to wear black… but please know that… I’m in mourning
I’ve buried children… sent to Heaven… from lamenting
As the severed heads they’d weep upon
To your bodies they shall be returned… we cry “Hussain”
* * *
We return and the tents have gone… but I can still feel the smoke grip at our throats
The orphans are gasping for air… I can’t tell if from the tears or smoke they choke
From beneath their small gowns flows blood… brother, they whipped your girls if ever they spoke
And they cursed our father Haidar… as at your severed head O’ beloved they’d poke
Hussain if you knew… what we’ve been through… would you not rise?
It’s not difficult… to see our hurt… look in my eyes
The severed heads have seen what happened
To your bodies they shall be returned… we cry “Hussain”
* * *
I kneel at your grave, brother… I pick up the dust and throw it on my head
Perhaps if I throw enough dust… with your embrace, you’ll return back from the dead
But I cannot see you headless… so your head back to you, brother, I’ve handed
Forgive me, its colour has changed… from how much of your pure blood, brother, it bled
Rise up from your grave… so I can give… it back to you
Just for a moment… hold this orphan… that you once knew
The other heads we hold in our arms
To your bodies they shall be returned… we cry “Hussain”
* * *
Your children cling to my garment… “is that our father buried beneath the ground?
For we smell his Hashemi scent… and smell it mixed with the dried blood of his shroud
And we hear an infant crying… as if deep in his father’s chest he has drowned
On his chest, till they become one… our father and our brother for Heaven bound”
His tiny arms cling… to his own King… and his father
Hussain cradles him… his voice humming… “O’ my Asghar”
The heads of our men are wailing and
To your bodies they shall be returned… we cry “Hussain”
* * *
I leave the children by your grave… and I begin to walk toward the river
A flag with me, so eyes see that… a flag flies by the grave of the flag bearer
I kneel by Abu Fadhil… telling him, do you recall me, your sister?
For weeks I remembered your name… for the girls would cry it when struck by Shimr
When the girls would cry… “O’ Abbas”, I… would hear them laugh
The devils rejoiced… watching your eye… staring at us
The other heads we hold in our arms
To your bodies they shall be returned… we cry “Hussain”
* * *
O’ my brothers, it’s not over… as the widows weep for Akbar and Qassim
For we are the first visitors… but one day they shall all come in their millions
The eye of Abbas shall watch them… and shroud them all from the heat with his two wings
And Hussain shall raise his two hands… “O’ Allah, grant all of them Your salvation”
They shall come walking… like us, struggling… in our honour
They shall be welcomed… by our orphans… and my brothers
When they die, by us they’ll be welcomed
To your bodies they shall be returned… we cry “Hussain”
* * *
(Dearborn – 16/09/22)