Hogi Yeh Majlis To Hogi

Aarzu Hai Yeh Nabi Ki Ruk Nahi Sakti Kabhi

This is the desire of the Prophet; it can never be stopped.

Chawdaa Sadiyaan Ho Gayi Hai Majlise Shabbir Ko Khun Se Iikhte Rahe Ham Gham Ki Iss Tehrir Ko Yeh Sadaa Hai Karbalaa Ki Yeh Sadaa Shabbir Ki Hogi Yeh Majlis To Hogi

Fourteen centuries have passed for the Majlis of Shabbir. We have kept writing this script of grief with our blood. This is the call of Karbala, this is the call of Shabbir: This Majlis will happen, it surely will.

Tegon Ke Saayen Me Palte Hai Husaini Nawjawaan Maut Se Larna Sikhati Hai Hame Lori Me Maa Apne Khun Se Morte Hai Har Gam To Teg Ki

Raised in the shadows of swords are the Husaini youth. Our mothers teach us to fight death in our lullabies. With our own blood, we dye every step of the sword.

Sunnate Zainab Ye Majlis Sunnate Zainul Ebaa Shaam Ke Darbaar Me Majlis Huwi Maatam Huwa Ruk Na Paee Shaam Me Jab Kya Rukengi Ab Sabi

This Majlis is the Sunnah of Zainab, the Sunnah of Zain-ul-Abideen. In the court of Shaam, the Majlis was held, the mourning took place. When it could not be stopped in Shaam, how will it ever be stopped now?

God Ka Bacchaa Ho Koyi Yaa Jawano Pir Ho Dekho Usko Uss Gadhi Jaab Maatame Shabbir Ho Ek Hai Raftaar Sabki Ek Hai Aawaaj Bhi

Whether it is a child in the lap, or a youth or an elder, look at them in that moment when there is mourning for Shabbir. The pace of everyone is one, and the voice is also one.

Saw Janaaze Ham Uthaae Apne Pyaaron Ke To Kya Ruk Nahi Sakta Azadari Kaa Yeh Silsilaah Apne Hi Khun Me Naha Kar Ham Pukaarenge Yahi

Even if we lift a hundred funeral biers of our loved ones, so what? This chain of Azadari cannot stop. Bathing in our own blood, we will proclaim just this.

Chin Bhi Jaaye Gar Hussaini Maaon Se Unke Jawaan Yaad Karke Zakhme Akbar Ko Kahengi Sab Yeh Maa Tha Aliakbar Sa Sadqa Laal Mera Maatami

Even if the Husaini mothers have their youth snatched away from them, remembering the wounds of Akbar, every mother will say: My son was a sacrifice like Ali Akbar, he was a mourner.

Keh Raha Hai Parchame Abbas Ka Panja Yehi Hath Kat Jaye To Matam Ruk Nahi Sakta Kabhi Sar Ko Takra Kar Karenge Aag Par Chal Kar Kabhi

The palm on the flag of Abbas is saying this: Even if hands are severed, mourning can never stop. We will strike our heads, we will walk on fire.

Ai Azaadaro Hussain Ibne Ali Ke Maatami Yu Guzaro Tum Azadari Me Apni Zindagi Pairwi Karte Hi Rehna Abu Zaro Salman Ki

O mourners of Hussain, mourners of the son of Ali, spend your lives in Azadari in this way: keep following the path of Abu Dharr and Salman.