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This beautiful prayer is written by the famous spiritual sage, Shaykh Muhammad Ibn al-Habib of the Darqawi spiritual path. Shaykh Ibn al-Habib sends peace on the Prophet ﷺ naming everything that he loves about him ﷺ
— Qasidah Salamiyya - Salawat || The Poem of Blessing💚
-- Abu Sakhr al-Hudhali (died ca. 80/700), from “qasidah VII, line 23”, translated from the Arabic by Kirill Dmitriev in: “The symbolism of wine in early Arabic love poetry: observations on the poetry of Abu Sakhr al-Hudhali “
On These Sands
Look! Don’t you see what could have been alive here?
Have you no pain to force your heart to turn and hearten?
On these sands there is no passerby who will not weep
Time is passing and O’ Passerby make your circulation
The Ka’ba of our history beckons to be circulated
These sand grains mourn their master, let’s hear their description:
We are lowered by the weight of tragedy and spilt blood
Don’t feel empathy for us, we are to blame for this crimson
The women make their pledges to their Lord and master
They knew the story would be weaker if we were the spokesperson
They have fulfilled their pledges to be the storyteller
Who are we! We couldn’t cover Hussain when he had no kaffen
Yet we tell the history of Karbala and the women there
We couldn’t create a sandstorm to blind and stop these men
But we can’t contain ourselves from what we’ve felt and heard
That the son of Ali must accept men, women, and children
For nothing less than sacrifice and suffering, soon you shall see
This is why we still speak even if the women have spoken
Al-Hussain’s caravan was the era’s ship of salvation
Kufa’s letters were the winds that gave direction, we, his ocean
You must know there is Divine Wisdom only he ascertains
Because little Fatima is left in Madinah with no one
Her youth and illness keep her from understanding why
She begs Al-Hussain not to leave her side or she’ll worsen
Al-Hussain’s tears have silently fallen and pattered us
His quiet tears always burned us more than desert sun
Father and daughter are separated while Hussain still lives
The only struggle of its kind so acknowledge its distinction
When Hussain sets to travel, so ensue the first goodbyes
Fatima and Hussain and Ummul Baneen and her brave children
Mother to four sons is ready to set them free for martyrdom
It is Ummul Baneen who readies her sons for action
Since their birth, she has instilled the affection for al-Hussain
And in their farewell she tells them “die before him as loyal men”
She turns to Abbas who will soon carry the flag for all to see
“When you are by that river, remember your brethren”
A mother born from strength marries Ali and serves his Hussain
Brought up her sons to serve even if they would be the exception
We can’t know the pain of this mother but we’ve heard her cry
When her sons were no longer we felt her chest tighten
With the fall of each son, she fell to her knees and quivered
A mother of martyrs falls but we must be left unshaken
If the earth shakes and falls, there is nothing to hold us
It is only by God’s Patience, we withstood this affliction
We were tested most on Karbala’s planes with the weight of martyrs
The suffering continued after each death with these women
Layla and Ali al-Akbar, Zaynab and Aoun and Muhammad
Their wails shatter us into a thousand more grains in devotion
Layla readies herself and her son to fight and fall soon
We hear goodbyes and know the weight of Layla’s knees when stricken
Who can bear to watch The Prophet die by sword in battle?
Ali was a reminder as they killed The Prophet’s reflection
Ali Akbar is a trotting mirror of Muhammad’s face
Too many afraid to approach him, as if pulled was the curtain
Who were they seeing? Their resurrected outcome faces them
Ahmad is from Hussain and this Ali is proof of relation
Layla, his mother is watching and her tears quench our thirst
What is she watching? Must she watch the death of her son?
Know this: goodbyes here are unlike any other goodbye
And the mothers and women here are unlike other women
There is a child later who will give the last farewell
Resembling a union when her father’s head to her is given
Ruqaya is a martyr who has not died in Karbala
Her grief and distance from al-Hussain beg for reason
A child who endures two losses: her father and Imam
We felt her body’s excitement when ended this separation
Her last exhale of breath blew us and disturbed our stillness
Winds move us but we‘d stay with her if we chose our direction
Know our prayers for free will began with Hussain’s caravan
Ruqaya resists thirst only to be gifted Hussain broken
Why are the skies not falling? Why are we not crumbling?
It’s not possible to leave Hussain’s daughters forsaken!
We didn’t forsake these young thirsty tongues, we are sand
We obeyed destiny as these martyrs die for their guardian
We will watch and feel these tragedies a thousand times
If it means we know and comfort Hussain with compassion
But when Hussain is at rest, who is the shadow that speaks?
Who is this guardian that lectures Yazid in court? Listen!
“Ya Yazid! You have blocked all paths for us and made us captives
Moving places, do you think Allah from us blessings has taken?
Do you think killing those who God loves makes you great and proper
And God looks at you with special grace?” This is Zainab’s precision
It is as if Ali has descended with his eloquence
The adornment of her father, Zainab, drew his inspiration
It is her words that struck them silent so they can realize
Ali’s daughter speaks to them, will they not awaken?
What is this! If we were human we‘d wish to be dust for support
But here we are, wishing to be human to support these women
What madness this tragedy has struck into our depths
To the hearts of believers, this tragedy is an affliction
When the battle is fought and we settle on these planes
Zainab is on that hill watching her brother downtrodden
His death is a thousand losses and still there were others
She has lost brothers and guardians, a son and another son
Tell us! Is the story capturing the storyteller?
Does she deserve to be hurt and taken captive in dessert sun?
How many goodbyes we’ve heard her give and still she remains
She doesn’t crumble in face of this trepidation
Zainab is comforted by al-Hussain with his presence but
Where is he about to go? Who will witness with toleration?
Remember that a goodbye here is no ordinary goodbye
Every farewell and goodbye ended in death, a separation
When Zainab is on that hill watching her Hussain slain
We heard her heart shift and grief take it captive, a suffocation
When Zainab stands upon us, we know we must hold firm
If she hasn’t crumbled or shaken, how could we quaken?
If she has withstood the sun’s heat and refuses Yazid
How can we complain of this sun and the battle undertaken?
This is the Zainab we venerate in our stories
A model for everything and everyone, from dust to human
The adornment to the peak of eloquence and the one
Who shakes a courtroom and echoes in its chambers now woken
Yazid will fall because Zainab has stood, and we know this
We won’t comfort the one who topples over unforgiven
Don’t you see what could have been alive here and what isn’t?
This Hussain and his storytellers and supporters would have been
We blame ourselves and we’re proud of ourselves, we did what we could
But we didn’t do what we wanted: to stop this privation
This is the description we share because who has told it?
The women had spoke of their Imam, brothers, and children
Where is the story of the women, where? We suffice as witness
Their hurt is multiplied by the weight of grief and they sicken
Their days will continue, and our planes can’t handle anymore
May God provide and let us comfort them, our salvation
These sand grains have seen, felt, heard, and understood all that
Hussain and his caravan gave and bled so we’ll always listen
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The third most well-known qaṣīda of Imām al-Busīrī (d. 1294) is the Hamziyya. A Hamziyya is a panegyric poem (madḥ) all of whose verses rhyme in the Arabic letter hamza. Imām al-Busīrī wrote this 400+ verse poem which contains the biography and history of our Beloved Liege, the Prophet Muḥammad ﷺ. It is well known that Ḥassān bin Thābit, a companion of Prophet ﷺ (may Allāh ﷻ be well-pleased with him), wrote a Hamziyya in his honour, as well. This particular one was a favourite of my shaykh, Sīdī Aḥmad at-Tijānī al-Ḥasanī.
Click the title above to view and download the PDF version, courtesy of Āl al-Bait.
a beautiful Mauritanian qasida
Stop talking ! – For what is gone will not come back to you, and the pleasure of earthly life does not last for ever.
-- Abu Sakhr al-Hudhali (died ca. 80/700), from “Qasidah III, line 16″, translated from the Arabic by Kirill Dmitriev in: “The symbolism of wine in early Arabic love poetry: observations on the poetry of Abu Sakhr al-Hudhali “
Return sleep to my eyes — perhaps your phantom will visit my bed in the darkness of dreams.
Ibn al-Farid (1181 - 1234), as quoted by Th. Emil Homerin in “From Arab Poet to Muslim Saint. Ibn al-Farid, His Verse, and His Shrine”
Deaf — he did not hear the plea — dumb — he did not answer — blind to the case of one bound by desire.
Ibn al-Farid (1181 - 1234), as quoted by Th. Emil Homerin in “From Arab Poet to Muslim Saint. Ibn al-Farid, His Verse, and His Shrine”
