A Lonely Evening

By: Dr. Hassan Najafi

The day of Ashura passed at such a great cost,

Now the catastrophic evening of the travelers – all lost.

Zainab is left alone

With children in sorrow drown.

Tents burnt, heat of flames, of sun, of sand

Children scared, long for a kinder land.

Awed neither by power, nor by years obscured,

Hard is the lot, her injured nerves endured.

Preserved through time the scenes of Karbala impart

Each word of Zainab’s tortured heart,

By length of toil, a brightest perfection she

Exceptionally brave, and just in all did she.

Drest by martyrdom the Martyrs' smile

And blood flows fresh at opening of Martyrs' file.

More than all in the highest grade blest

O Martyrs! Come! Take your Empire in our breast!

Full many a gem of purest ray serene

Now gone to Eternity leaving their blood evergreen,

Husain’s voice the winds still preserve,

We answer him in Iran, in heavens paradise reserve.