STRAIGHTPATHMONTHLY December 2011
As his mark showed among the victims;
So once she saw the arrow in his neck planted,
She wished she shared his arrow of death
In her hands she places him as she kisses his lips
And kisses a neck before her the arrow had kissed.
She brought him closer to her chest in earnest
So once she sings lullabies for him and once she to him
talks:
Son! Wake up from the slumber of death!
My breast should you suck.
Maybe my heart will then calm down...
Son! I have milk for you, and I know your thirst
So maybe I thereby quench your burning thirst.
Son! You used to entertain me in my loneliness
And my solace whenever the oppressors oppress.
Imam Hussain a.s said, "What decreases my affliction
is the fact that it is witnessed by Allah Almighty. O Allah!
It is not less in Your esteem than the life of a son! Lord! If
You have kept victory away from us, then let it be so for
something even better, and seek revenge on our behalf
from the oppressors, [744] and let what has happened to
us in this life be a treasure for us in the hereafter. O
Allah! You are the Witness against people who killed the
one who looked most like Your Messenger Muhammad,
peace and blessings of Allah be upon him and his
progeny."
He (A), then heard a voice saying, "Leave him, O
Hussain, for there is a nurse for him in Paradise.!" Then
he (A), alighted from his horse and with his sword dug a grave
for him and buried him; his blood was mixed with the sands,
then he offered the funeral prayers for him. Some accounts say
that he placed him together with those of his family who had
already been killed.
shot him, Harmalah Ibn Kahil al-Asadi, and upon
his kinsfolk."
Hard it is for me how you carried your thirsty babe
And the fire of his thirst could not be quenched.
From the parching of the sun his voice changed,
In a tribulation from which what is solid melts.
You came to the people asking for water,
But how could you reach the watering place?
For the bow surrounded his neck as if
It was a string of the crescent wherein the star rests.
And on the prairie, in the tents, are mourners
Pointing to your babe with agony and repeat;
How many an infant did their arrows suckle
One Fatima would have rather nursed?
M