Poetry

Remembering Ali

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Artist DrawingOh what a strike! How it made his beard turn red. And said the one who is blessed, “By the Lord of the Kaaba, I swear I have achieved Success.” And said Ali to his companions, If I die do not mutilate my killer’s body; strike him once as he struck me. Then as the companions were catering to Ali

 

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Ya Rabb, On these days,
We remember your slave,

Your slave called Ali.
As he was worshipping Thee,

He was in Sujood,
Glorifying You.

And then, came a man,
By the name of Abdul Rahman,

How dare he use that name!
When it was he that killed Allah’s true slave.

He took out his sword and struck Ali’s head.
Oh what a strike! How it made his beard turn red.

And said the one who is blessed,
“By the Lord of the Kaaba, I swear I have achieved Success.”

And said Ali to his companions, If I die do not mutilate my killer’s body;
strike him once as he struck me.

Then as the companions were catering to Ali,
Ibn Muljim had a face that looked thirsty,

So Ali,
offered him haleep.

Ya Ali! The evil ones did not give your son one drop of water!
And yet you gave milk to your own killer.

Ya Rabb! on these days we remember Your slave.
Through him let us be saved,

Through him let us find the truth,
And through him let us be guided to You.

Allahumma Salli Alla Muhammad wa Ale Muhammad.

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