Husain Jab Ke Chale Baad-e Dopahar Ran Ko
Husain jab ke chale baad-e dopahar ran ko
Na thha koi ke jo thhaame rakaab-e tausan ko
Sakina jhaad rahi thhi abaa ke daaman ko
Husain chup ke khade thhe jhukaaye gardan ko
Na aasra thha koi shah-e karbalaai ko
Faqat savaar kiya thha bahan ne bhai ko
That fateful afternoon, ready to fight stood brave Husain
No one to help him mount his horse, loneliness fed his pain
Little Sakina brushed his robe, her sadness to contain
Husain simply stood with head bowed, and quietude did reign
Karbala’s hero was alone, no friends left to pay heed
His brave sister then stepped up, to help him mount his steed.
Jab Pareshan Hui Maula ki Jamaa’at Ran Mein
Jab pareshan hui maula ki jamaa’at ran mein
Har namaazi ko pasand aayi iqaamat ran mein
Qibla-e deen ne kiya qasd-e ibaadat ran mein
Shakl-e mehraab bani tegh-e shahaadat ran mein
Ghul hua, is ko Imam-e do-jahaan kehte hain
Teghon ke saaye mein Shabbir azaan kehte hain
Qudrat-e Haq se dareeche hue firdaus ke vaa
Daf-atan khul gaye dar-haa-e falak sar ta paa
Ek-ba ek uth gaye sab parda-e arsh-e aala
Ambiya-o-malak-o-hoor ko pahunchi ye sada
Qadr-daan is ka main hoon, mera shanaasa hai ye
Kyon na ho? Mere Mohammad ka navaasa hai ye.
Ye vo taa’at hai, ke tanhaa hi adaa karte hain
Mere aashiq tah-e shamsheer raha karte hain
Sar qalam hota hai, vo shukr-e khuda karte hain
Sadiq-ul vaada yoonhi vaada vafaa karte hain
Hum namaaz is ke janaaze ki jo padhwaaenge
Tum bhi jaana ke rasoolan-e salaf jaayenge
Saakin-e arsh-e bareen karne lage naala-o-aah
Shah takbeer yahaan keh chuke, Allah Allah
Aur iqaamat mein hue sarf shah-e alijaah
Jaan-e vaahid pe gire aan ke laakhon badkhwaah
Soora-e hamd nabizaada padha chaahta thha
Shimr khanjar liye seene pe chada jaata thha
When Fate Scattered Husain’s Congregation on That Desert
When fate scattered Husain’s congregation on that desert
The pious ones did praise his devotion on that desert
To pray, the Godhead showed his intention on that desert
A sword was raised, it sought execution on that desert.
A cry arose, indeed he is the leader of both worlds
Watch my brave Shabbir’s call to prayer made in the shade of swords
By his power, the Almighty bared heaven’s great window
Suddenly the sky opened up its doors from head to toe
All curtains of the firmament opened to that scene’s glow
Prophets and angels were summoned: ‘Watch, and you need to know
That I am his admirer, to know me is in his blood
And why not? He’s the grandson of my dear Mohammed.
‘This is the sort of worship that is done only alone
Those who love me contend with swords, not with the kingly throne
They are beheaded, yet they prostrate their heads to the One
They fulfil their promises, and then with this life are done.
When I convene the funeral prayer of this creation bold
You’d best attend, for you would join legions of prophets old.’
Heaven-dwellers began to weep at this great twist of fate
Husain composed himself to pray, proclaimed ‘Allah is Great’
Alas till he finished his prayers, killers refused to wait
Millions attacked that single soul, so vicious was their hate
As the Prophet’s son read soorahs and repeated God’s word
Murderous Shimr sat on him, lifted the fatal sword.
Husain jab ke chale baad-e dopahar ran ko
Na thha koi ke jo thhaame rakaab-e tausan ko
Sakina jhaad rahi thhi abaa ke daaman ko
Husain chup ke khade thhe jhukaaye gardan ko
Na aasra thha koi shah-e karbalaai ko
Faqat savaar kiya thha bahan ne bhai ko
That fateful afternoon, ready to fight stood brave Husain
No one to help him mount his horse, loneliness fed his pain
Little Sakina brushed his robe, her sadness to contain
Husain simply stood with head bowed, and quietude did reign
Karbala’s hero was alone, no friends left to pay heed
His brave sister then stepped up, to help him mount his steed.
Jab Pareshan Hui Maula ki Jamaa’at Ran Mein
Jab pareshan hui maula ki jamaa’at ran mein
Har namaazi ko pasand aayi iqaamat ran mein
Qibla-e deen ne kiya qasd-e ibaadat ran mein
Shakl-e mehraab bani tegh-e shahaadat ran mein
Ghul hua, is ko Imam-e do-jahaan kehte hain
Teghon ke saaye mein Shabbir azaan kehte hain
Qudrat-e Haq se dareeche hue firdaus ke vaa
Daf-atan khul gaye dar-haa-e falak sar ta paa
Ek-ba ek uth gaye sab parda-e arsh-e aala
Ambiya-o-malak-o-hoor ko pahunchi ye sada
Qadr-daan is ka main hoon, mera shanaasa hai ye
Kyon na ho? Mere Mohammad ka navaasa hai ye.
Ye vo taa’at hai, ke tanhaa hi adaa karte hain
Mere aashiq tah-e shamsheer raha karte hain
Sar qalam hota hai, vo shukr-e khuda karte hain
Sadiq-ul vaada yoonhi vaada vafaa karte hain
Hum namaaz is ke janaaze ki jo padhwaaenge
Tum bhi jaana ke rasoolan-e salaf jaayenge
Saakin-e arsh-e bareen karne lage naala-o-aah
Shah takbeer yahaan keh chuke, Allah Allah
Aur iqaamat mein hue sarf shah-e alijaah
Jaan-e vaahid pe gire aan ke laakhon badkhwaah
Soora-e hamd nabizaada padha chaahta thha
Shimr khanjar liye seene pe chada jaata thha
When Fate Scattered Husain’s Congregation on That Desert
When fate scattered Husain’s congregation on that desert
The pious ones did praise his devotion on that desert
To pray, the Godhead showed his intention on that desert
A sword was raised, it sought execution on that desert.
A cry arose, indeed he is the leader of both worlds
Watch my brave Shabbir’s call to prayer made in the shade of swords
By his power, the Almighty bared heaven’s great window
Suddenly the sky opened up its doors from head to toe
All curtains of the firmament opened to that scene’s glow
Prophets and angels were summoned: ‘Watch, and you need to know
That I am his admirer, to know me is in his blood
And why not? He’s the grandson of my dear Mohammed.
‘This is the sort of worship that is done only alone
Those who love me contend with swords, not with the kingly throne
They are beheaded, yet they prostrate their heads to the One
They fulfil their promises, and then with this life are done.
When I convene the funeral prayer of this creation bold
You’d best attend, for you would join legions of prophets old.’
Heaven-dwellers began to weep at this great twist of fate
Husain composed himself to pray, proclaimed ‘Allah is Great’
Alas till he finished his prayers, killers refused to wait
Millions attacked that single soul, so vicious was their hate
As the Prophet’s son read soorahs and repeated God’s word
Murderous Shimr sat on him, lifted the fatal sword.
—Translated by Raza Mir
