Hal Min Nasurin

Malike Arzo Samaa, Dilbare Shehre Khudaa, (Darsaf-E- Fawje Jafaa) Asr Ashoor Kaha Saniye Zehra Ne Mera Bhayi Laeeno Me Gira Wawaila, Haye Sehroz Ka Pyaasa Wo Muhammed Ka Nawasa Jo Chalaa Marne Suwe Dast-E-Bala Suwe Dil Ne Kiya Noha

Master of the earth and heavens, beloved of the City of God, (facing the ranks of tyranny). On the afternoon of Ashura, the successor of Zahra said, 'My brother has fallen among the oppressors, alas!' The three-day thirsty one, the grandson of Muhammad, who walked towards death in the hand of calamity. My heart began to lament.

Hamil-E-Saif-O-Alam Janib-E-Mulke Adam (Ee Sitam Haiye Sitam) Mere Allah Udhar Bhayi Akela Hai Idher, Abid-E-Mustar Ke Siwa Koyi Nahi. Hogaye Katl Alamdaar-E- Sina, Sina-E-Akbar Mei Lagi Aun-O-Muhammed Bhi Gaye Wakht Paraa Kaisaa

Bearer of the sword and standard, heading towards the realm of eternity (O this oppression, alas!). 'My God, over there my brother is alone, and here, there is no one except the restless Abid.' The standard-bearer has been martyred, an arrow has pierced Akbar's chest, and Aun and Muhammad have also departed. What a time has befallen!

Rakib-E-Dosh-E-Nabi Rahat-E-Maula Ali (Nargha-E-Fowj-E-Shaki) Ankh Roti Hai Zuban Kerti Hai Faryaad Ke Dunyaa Me Barader Ke Binaa Kiyaa Jinaa, Chakiya Pis Ke Amaa Ne Jise Nazo Se Palaa Thaa Use Nana Ke Umaat Ne Sataa Ya Hai Lab-E-Daryaa.

The one who rode on the Prophet's shoulder, the comfort of Master Ali (in the circle of the enemy army). My eyes weep and my tongue cries out, 'What is life in this world without a brother?' The one whom Mother raised with such tenderness, having ground the millstone, the Prophet's Ummah has tormented him on the riverbank.

Karbela Giryaa Shawan Dharalam Maula Sanad (Dhamadham Noha Kunaa) Karbala Roti Rahi Roti Rahi Mei Bhi Ye Saadaat Sabhi Zer-E-Aalam Is Gam Mei, Aaj Shabbir Pe Kiya Alam-E-Tanhayi He Hamraaha Na Beta Na Koyi Bhayi Hai Rota Hai Nabi Zaadaa

Karbala is weeping, and I am weeping too, all the Sadat are under the banner in this grief. Today, what a state of loneliness has befallen Shabbir; there is no son with him, nor any brother. The Prophet's child is weeping.

Al Madad Rab-E-Awlaa, Al Madad Shehre Khudaa, (Al Madad Ya Zahra) Mere Bhayi Ko Sare Dasht Chamakti Huwi Talwaaro Se Nezo Se Bachalo Ama, Kon Imadaad Kare Koyi Nahi Koyi Nahi Koyi Nahi, Me Hu Ye Tanhayi Lasho Se Bharaa Sehra

Help, O Lord of the Highest, Help, O City of God (Help, O Zahra). 'Save my brother from the glittering swords and spears on this plain, Mother.' Who will help? There is no one, no one, no one. I am here in this loneliness, a desert filled with corpses.

Barsare Karbobala, Baniye Farshe Aza, (Mara Begirye Khuda) Raas Ayi Na Muje Karbobala Chuta Watan Pyasi Rahi Aur Mera Gar Ujra Waqt Ne Lut Liya Dil Ka Sukoon Chin Liye Mujse Sitam Ghaaro Ne Sab Laalo Gohar Ab Ye Sitam Taazaa

On the soil of Karbala, the founder of the mourning gathering (May God have mercy on me). Karbala did not suit me, I lost my homeland, remained thirsty, and my home was ruined. Time snatched away the peace of my heart; the oppressors took away all my jewels and gems. Now this new oppression.

Qasime Tashnadaha, Jaani Be Khuld Rawa, (Ye Haram Nalaa Kunaa) Raaj Kartithi Madine Me Yahaa Karti Hu Me Naala-O Faryad Koyi Sunta Nahi, Hogaya Dasht Me Pamaale Jafaa Ibne Hasan Aur Mera Asghar-E Besheer Bhi Dunyaa Se Gayaa Pyasaa

The thirsty Qasim, the soul departing for heaven (The harem is lamenting). I used to rule in Medina, here I am lamenting and crying, and no one listens. In the desert, the son of Hasan has been trampled by tyranny, and my milk-less Asghar has also departed from the world thirsty.

Zainab-E-Khastaa Jigar, Hi Sitam Peshe Nazar (Bekhataa Khaak Basar) Me Yaha Ret Ke Tile Pe Tarap Ti Hu Wahaa Khayme Me Saadaat Bukaa Karte Hai Aayiye Pehre Madad Shehre Khudaa Shahe Najaf Shahe Arab Shahe Umum Pehle Na Hojaye Pisar Pyasaa

Zainab, the weary-hearted, with oppression before her eyes (innocent, with dust on her head). I am here, writhing on the sand dunes, while there in the tents, the Sadat are weeping. Come to help, O City of God, King of Najaf, King of Arabia, King of the Ummah, before the son becomes thirsty.

Hai Jari Peshe Khuda, Hi Duwa Subh Ho Masaa, (Behre Man Khuld Ataa) Aaj Tak Sirf Isi Baat Pe Karte Hai Bukaa Mazharo Irfaan Hussaini Saare Haaye Afsos Buka Karti Rahi Zainabe Dilgir Chali Bhayi Pe Shamsheer Fazaawo Me Raha Noha

The warrior before God, the prayer that is morning and evening (Grant me heaven for his sake). To this day, we only weep over this matter, the manifestations of Hussaini wisdom. Alas, Zainab the sorrowful kept weeping, the sword moved towards the brother, and the lament remained in the atmosphere.

Udhar Shabbir Ki, Gardan Pe, Chalgayaa Khanjar, Idhar Zainab Ke Labo Par, Sadaa Rehgayi Mazhar,

There, the dagger passed over Shabbir's neck; here, on Zainab's lips, the cry remained, Mazhar.