A Heart-Rending Lament

جانسوز ناله‌اي

وصال شيرازيزينب چو ديد پيكري اندر ميان خون چون آسمان و زخم تن از انجمش فزون‌بي‌حد جراحتي نتوان گفتنش كه چند پامال پيكري نتوان ديدنش كه چون‌خنجر درو نشسته چو شهپر برهما و پيكان درو دميده چون مژگان كه از جفون‌گفت اين به خون تپيده نباشد حسين من اين نيست آنكه در بر من بود تا كنون‌يكدم فزون نرفته كه رفت از كنار من اين زخمها به پيكر او چون رسيده چون‌گرين حسين، قامت او از چه بر زمين ور اين حسين، رايت او از چه سرنگون‌گر اين حسين من، سر او از چه بر سنان ور اين حسين من، تن او غرق خون‌يا خواب بوده‌ام من و گم گشته است راه يا خواب بوده آنكه مرا كرده رهنمون‌مي‌گفت و مي‌گريست كه جانسوز ناله‌اي آمد ز حنجر شه لب تشنگان برون‌كاي عندليب گلشن جان، آمدي بيا ره گم نگشته خوش به نشان آمدي بيا [ صفحه 466]

A Heart-Rending Lament

When Zaynab (a.s.) saw a body lying amidst blood, Like the sky itself, with wounds upon its body more numerous than the stars,

Its injuries were beyond measure and impossible to count; A trampled body such as this was impossible to behold.

Daggers were lodged within it like the wings of eagles, And arrowheads had pierced it like eyelashes emerging from eyelids.

She said: “This blood-soaked one cannot be my Imam Husain (a.s.); This is not the one who remained beside me until now.

Not even a moment had passed since he departed from my side; How then have all these wounds come upon his body so quickly?

If this is Imam Husain (a.s.), why is his stature lying upon the ground? And if this is Imam Husain (a.s.), why has his banner fallen?

If this is my Imam Husain (a.s.), why is his head upon a spear? And if this is my Imam Husain (a.s.), why is his body drowned in blood?

Was I asleep, and have I lost my way? Or was the one who guided me asleep?”

As she spoke and wept, a soul-burning cry Emerged from the throat of the King of the Thirsty-Lipped Ones (a.s.):

“O nightingale of the garden of my soul, come, you have arrived; You have not lost your way—you have come well-guided to your destination.”

[ صفحه 466]