Spoken Word: The Story of Hussain (a.s)
Let’s now listen to the story of Hussein
A story filled with horror, grief and pain
No difference
Was seen in a child or grown man
When they trampled their horses, and bodies were slain
AKBAR! They didn’t even care he resembled the Prophet
Oh the calamity, how catastrophic
As he fell from his horse, he called Hussein’s name
He remembered his Sughra, the promise he made
Now she sits in Medina, crying out his name, she cries
Hits her head, she can’t even see, but knows what’s ahead
She puts her hand on her chest, as she feels the pain
But it isn’t even close to your pain, Ibn-ay-Hussain
When his heart with the arrow OUT it came
Let’s now listen to the story of Hussein
A story filled with horror, grief and pain
No difference
Was seen in a child or grown man
When they trampled their horses, and bodies were slain
QASIM! You were the gift of Hassan to the Ahlulbayt
It was written in your fate that today’s the date
That you open your locket, and take out the message
But how could he let you go, you’re Hasan’s image
There was no other, who could help you concede
Your desire, your wish, and request to proceed
Oh God, how did Ramla feel? When he left in one piece
But to the tent came back in pieces, the pain did increase
Now who’ll save your mother, and troubles, her ease?
Let’s now listen to the story of Hussein
A story filled with horror, grief and pain
No difference
Was seen in a child or grown man
When they trampled their horses, and bodies were slain
ASGHAR! That little ten months old
How did he die, thirsty, like a soldier bold
Could he even speak, talk, think, chat, move, fall?
Fall down from his cradle did he, I can’t believe
That the infant was taken to battle the clan of Yezid
Not even a drop, of water or mercy or sympathy was
Given by the devils, the cursed army
Alas they quenched his thirst with an arrow
Oh Rabab’s sorrow, when she held his holed body in the wrap of her arms
And the blood was not thrown, but the blood was slapped on his face, so that you can see
How Hussain was left with nothing. Except agony!
Let’s now listen to the story of Hussein
A story filled with horror, grief and pain
No difference
Was seen in a child or grown man
When they trampled their horses, and bodies were slain
ABBAS! Oh his hands wrote this story!
The hands that were clipped, chopped, daggered and arrowed
His ride covered in a flood of knives and lives were lost
But he remembered his water bag,
Sakina for water pleads.
Fought like a hero, dodged all those arrows,
Except when they cheated and chopped his both arms,
He fell on his face, his heart holed,
Blood from his heart flowed in synchrony with water from his bag. I am sorry, O Sakina, he screamed.
He called out to his master, Hussein, I plead, please come rescue me.
Wiped the blood from his eyes, he saw his face, and smiled
To be left alone on the bank of Euphrates.
Now you’ve heard the story of Hussein
The story filled with horror, grief and pain
No difference
Was seen in a child or grown man
When they trampled their horses, and bodies were slain.
By Isha Haider
