In the name of Allah,
The Beneficent, The Merciful
mapping the avenue to hours of
solitude,
watching the clouds padded with
rain,
racing along me.
this is the friday sun interrupting
the passage,
of waves of bliss, as they enclose
my heart,
ribboning its cache with strands of
aspiration.
let it be o' weeping sun ... let
your radiance circuit my airing love.
friday morn - crowning my soul,
my eyes and the spell of beloved's
charm,
gracing me to journey to a heaven
of delight.
the breaking of early dawn,
with the whispers of nature -
pleading,
humbly before their lord,
" Where is the son of the chosen
Prophet? "
friday morn - and the fresh blood
streaming from kerbala ...
nudba and the lamentation of
inhabitants of earth,
tears mixing with clay - moulding
our stature,
lowering our backs.
friday - the day of individual
compensation,
day of paying allegiance to our
imam,
as the curtain occults his beauty
from us.
nudba - where is hassan, where is
hussain?
nubda - where is the son of
favorite leaders?
nudba, and a bleeding heart |