Who is zahra

In the name of god

Who is Zahra shall dawn on Doomsday

Enemies of her enemies in divine pardon sway,

Friends of her enemies shall contrite in dismay;

.Today’s tears shed in her love tomorrow pay

What is Zahra? First let us know

 To acquire a letter angle to peep into her woe,

If the prophets placed in one pan and she in another

.Imam Sadiq says the pan of Zahra weighs heavier

From a higher station to a lower station

If a thing given from his own possession

It is called ‘ATA’ in Arabic decorum

.So Says God in Qur'an in the shortest sum

How dear is Zahra to God, shows this chapter,

.And remarks her worth to her Father -- the Messenger

Her Father had not yet been buried,

.They to avenge their broken idols to Saqifa hurried

!What Monsters in the lane appear

!Ah fear! Ah frantic fear

Dangerous! Even for those of giant limbs mold

Can a lady with tender heart tolerate to behold

!He round after round in his hideous form

Howling, shouting, making wilder the wild storm

Stood like a loose hanging rock

Remitting to the sight a paralyzing shock,

Sea the rattling terrors of the vengeful make

!!!And know how his belief false, his faith fake

He never seems tired of his tyrannical sway

.And seems to him it is a festive day

Ruffians and rowdies gathered more and more

.Like a loud torrent and a whirlwind’s roar

But the ringleader wants a larger pile,

.Exults, and says fire alone could make him smile

He ordered: “Bring fuel, wood and set fire”‌;

.The rascals obeyed fanned by strong desire

Their hearts like torpid rocks (in pagan) array

.The winters of their souls chilled their belief astray

,No zephyr of faith sued their rocky breast

A glare, a balm which their hatred awaited to invest

,In the wilderness lost, they built their shed

In the ruin where their souls were dead

Pleased the rowdies their diabolical power

Made them to dance forgetful of the noontide hour

Whose House it was the vulgar didn’t care,

The Cries of Zahra fell low

As the flames from the house grow,

The ringleader in sprightly spirit, in mirth, ease

.Pleased with himself and the deed dazzled to please

Each ball of sight seemed bursting from his head

.And shook with dread at the sound himself had made

The tyrant cheerful at his deed in a proud pose

Breasts the smoke, waves the sword and goes

And carries the den of curses along the way

Ashes drag the struggling savage day

She betwixt door and the wall fell bleeding

.As Fizzah the maid came running

Ah! What sorrows bloom to gloom the day

.Life from its native walk shrinks away

Shudder the near ones because to them a distant deep

The remote ones on pilgrimage wept, return again to weeps.

Miscarried Mohsen -- unborn died

What the mother felt? Falling at his side,

!O, you! The Babe of early doom

Aerial hands shall build your tomb.

With the pearls of tears crowned

And all Infant Martyrs round,

You aren’t dead in any age

Pilgrims shall recite in Qur'an your page,

Honour beheld in tears shall save

To sigh your name thro’ every grave,

Wherever you are laid

.There bows heroes’ shade

Though fallen she turns her joyless eyes

To search where her Mohsen lies,

Since then Zahra felt as if on thorn

.And haying lost nightly rest wept till morn

Even the beasts wept on their way as they pursue

.Shrill roared the wind, made melancholy the view

Ah! Lady! I leave your tale with words so few

.Upsets me the tyranny committed against you