Poem About Martyrdom poem-about-martyrdom

أَأَخُيَّ لَا تَشْكُو الْمَذَلَّةَ بَاكِيًا * فَإِلَى مَتَى سَتَظَلُّ تَبْكِي شَاكِيًا

Oh my brother, do not complain of humiliation while weeping, for how long will you remain weeping and complaining?

أَتَطِيبُ نَفْسًا أَنْ تَثِيرَ مَدَامِعِي * مِثْلَ النَّوَائِحِ يَنْتَحِبْنَ سَوَاسِيًا

Do you find ease of soul in stirring my tears like the wailing women who lament together alike?

أَتَظُنُّ أَنَّ الْعِزَّ يُرْجِعُهُ الْبُكَا * فَالْمَجْدُ صَارَ قَصَائِدًا وَأَمَانِيًا

Do you think that weeping will bring back honour, for glory has become mere poems and wishes.

قُلْ لِي بِرَبِّكَ هَلْ تُرِيدُ نَصِيحَتِي * إِنِّي سَأَلْتُكَ فَاسْتَمِعْ لِسُؤَالِيَا

Tell me, by your Lord, do you want my advice? Indeed, I have questioned you, so listen to my question.

أَوَلَيْسَ مَوْتِي فِي حَيَاتِي مَرَّةً * لِمَ لَا يَكُونُ خِتَامُهَا اسْتِشْهَادِيًّا

Isn’t my death only once in my life? Why should it not be sealed with martyrdom?

لَمَّا سَمَتْ نَفْسُ الشَّهِيدِ مَطَالِبًا * أَعْلَى الْإِلَٰهُ لَهُ الْمَكَانَةَ عَالِيًا

When the soul of the martyr rose high in its aspirations, Allah raised for him a lofty rank.

فِي جَوْفِ طَيْرٍ فِي الْجِنَانِ مُحَلِّقًا * وَمُغَرِّدًا فَوْقَ الْقُصُورِ وَشَادِيًا

Within the belly of a bird, soaring in the gardens, and singing above the palaces, chanting joyfully.

مَعَ أَصْفِيَاءِ الْخَلْقِ فِي فِرْدَوْسِهَا * وَالْأَنْبِيَاءُ وَصَحْبُهُمْ جِيرَانِيَا

With the chosen ones of creation in its Firdaws, and the prophets and their companions as neighbours.

وَأَرَى إِلَهَ الْعَالَمِينَ كَمَا يُرَى * بَدْرُ التَّمَامِ عَلَى الْمَشَارِفِ بَادِيًا

And I see the Lord of the worlds as is seen فhe full moon, appearing upon the horizons.

سَبْعٌ يَفُوزُ بِهَا الشَّهِيدُ كَرَامَةً * إنْ كُنْتَ ذَا لُبٍّ فَقُلْ لِي مَا هِيَا

Seven things the martyr attains as an honour; if you possess understanding, then tell me what they are.

الذَّنبُ يُغفَرُ عِندَ أَوَّلِ قَطْرَةٍ * وَأَرَى الْمَكَانَةَ فِي المَنَازِلِ عَالِيًا

The sin is forgiven at the very first drop (of blood), and I see my rank among the abodes as high.

وَالْقَبْرُ يُؤمَنُ هَوْلُهُ وَعَذَابُهُ * يَا فَرْحَةً وَمِنَ الْقِيَامَةِ نَاجِيًا

And the terror of the grave and its punishment are made safe. What a joy — and I am saved from the day of Resurrection.

وَمُتَوَّجًا تَاجَ الْوَقَارِ وَشَافِعًا * فِي ذِي الْقَرَابَةِ قَاصِيًا أَوْ دَانِيًا

And crowned with the crown of dignity, and an intercessor for relatives, whether distant or near.

وَالْحُورُ تَرْقُبُ فِي اشْتِيَاقٍ مُقْبِلِي * يَا قُبْلَةً هِيَ دَائِيَ وَدَوَائِيَا

And the houris watch, in longing, my approach. Oh kiss — it will be my ailment and my cure.

طَرْفُ الْعُيُونِ لِوَجْنَتَيْهَا جَارِحٌ * سُكْرُ الجَمَالِ بَلَحْظِهَا مُتَعَدِّيًا

The gaze of her eyes in her cheeks is wounding. Intoxicating beauty overflows from her gaze.

لَمَّا رَأَتْ عَيْنَايَ لَحْظَ عُيُونِهَا * سَكَنَتْ لَذَائِذُ لَحْظِهَا أَعْمَاقِيَا

When my eyes saw the glance of her eyes, the pleasures of her gaze settled deep within me.

لَمَّا نَظَرْتُ احْتَرْتُ فِي قَسَمَاتِهَا * أَيَّ الثِّمارِ يَنَالُ ثَغْرِي جَانِيًا

When I looked at her, I was bewildered by her features: Which fruit will my mouth pluck first?

فَاقَتْ خَيَالَ المَادِحِينَ لَوْصْفِهَا * صُبَّ الجَمَالُ عَلَى الجَمَالِ فَأَرْوِيَا

She surpasses the imagination of those who praise her. Beauty poured upon beauty, until it overflowed.