Aqraba Kat Gae Jab Shah Ke Bari Bari

Aur Adam Chalne Ki Us Shah Ne Ki Tayyari Khaime Ka Parda Utha, Zainulleba Ek Baari Dekh Maqtal Ki Taraf Karne Laga Yuun Zaari Khuld Ke Kooch Me, Ham Ko Nahi Bulvaate Ho Kaafle Waalo Hame Chode Chale Jaate Ho

And the King prepared to depart for the realm of non-existence (martyrdom), The tent curtain lifted, and Zain-ul-Abidin looked out once, Looking towards the battlefield, he began to lament thus: 'In your journey to Paradise, why do you not summon me? O travelers of the caravan, you leave us behind and depart.'

Hay Sheh Ka Naa Raha Koi Bhi Yaavar Baki Na Alamdar Rahe Aur Na Lashkar Baki Na Rahe Kaasim-E-Jarrar Na Akbar Baki Hai Fakat Sibt-E-Nabi Ka Sare Anwar Baki Ham To Baki Hain Gamo Ranj Uthaane Ke Lie Maut Ne Chhoda Hame Ashk Bahane Ke Liye

Alas, the King has no helper left remaining, Neither the Standard-bearer remains, nor the army remaining, Neither the brave Qasim remains, nor Akbar remaining, Only the radiant head of the Prophet's grandson remains, We are left only to bear grief and sorrow, Death has spared us only to shed tears.

Haay Shabbir Ke Marne Ki Hai Ab Tayyari Zakhm Par Zakhm Hain Tane Sheh Par Kaari Bhook Me Pyaas Me Gash Aate Hai Sau-Sau Baari Beech Me Ibne Ali Gird Khade Hai Naari Apni Bimaari Par Sharminda Pisar Hota Hai Katl Ab Saamne Bete Ke Pidar Hota Hai

Alas, now the preparation for Shabbir's martyrdom is underway, Wound upon wound, deep and fatal, are on the King's body, In hunger and thirst, he faints a hundred times over, In the center is the son of Ali, surrounded by the fire of the enemy, The son feels ashamed of his own illness, Now the father is being slain before the son's eyes.

Haay Baba Ko Mere Koi Bachaale Aakar Pher De Laake Gale Par Mere Koi Khanjar Baad Baba Ke Pisar Ka Nahi Jina Behtar Baap To Katl Ho Jita Rahe Ye Khasta Jigar Ehle Baite Nabvi Par Ye Jafaae Hongi Balvae Aam Me Sar Par Na Ridaae Hongi

Alas, may someone come and save my father, May someone bring a dagger and run it across my throat instead, After the father, it is not better for the son to live, For the father to be slain and this broken-hearted son to remain alive, These atrocities will befall the Prophet's household, In the public riot, there will be no veils upon their heads.