Concerning Muslim Freedom, and the secret of the Tragedy of Kerbala

Whoever maketh compact with the One That is, hath been delivered from the yoke Of every idol.

Whoever maketh compact with the One That is, hath been delivered from the yoke Of every idol.

Reason is ruthless; Love is even more, Purer, and nimbler, and more unafraid.

Lost in the maze of cause and of effect Is Reason; Love strikes boldly in the field Of Action.

Crafty Reason sets a snare; Love overthrows the prey with strong right arm.

Reason is rich in fear and doubt; but Love Has firm resolve, faith indissoluble.

Reason constructs, to make a wilderness; Love lays wide waste, to build all up anew.

Reason is cheap, and plentiful as air; Love is most scarce to find, and of great price.

Reason stands firm upon phenomena, But Love is naked of material robes.

Reason says, “Thrust thyself into the fore;” Love answers “Try thy heart, and prove thyself.”

Reason by acquisition is informed Of other; Love is born of inward grace And makes account with self.

Reason declares, “Be happy and be prosperous”; Love replies, “Become a servant, that thou mayest be free.”

Freedom brings full contentment to Love’s soul, Freedom, the driver of Love’s riding-beast.

Hast thou not heard what things in time of war Love wrought with lustful Reason?

would speak Of that great leader of all men who love Truly the Lord, that upright cypress-tree Of the Apostle’s garden,

Ali’s son, Whose father led the sacrificial feast That he might prove a mighty offering;

And for that prince of the best race of men The Last of the Apostles gave his back To ride upon, a camel passing fair.

Crimsoned his blood the cheek of jealous Love (Which theme adorns my verse in beauty bold)

Who is sublime in our community As Say, the Lord is God exalts the Book.

Moses and Pharaoh, Shabbir and Yazid – From Life spring these conflicting potencies;

Truth lives in Shabbir’s strength; Untruth is that Fierce, final anguish of regretful death.

And when the Caliphate first snapped its thread From the Quran, in Freedom’s throat was poured A fatal poison

like a rain-charged cloud The effulgence of the best of peoples rose Out of the West,

to spill on Kerbala, And in that soil, that desert was before, Sowed, as he died, a field of tulip-blood.

There, till the Resurrection, tyranny Was evermore cut off; a garden fair Immortalizes where his lifeblood surged.

For Truth alone his blood dripped to the dust, Wherefore he has become the edifice Of faith in God’s pure Unity.

Had his ambition been for earthly rule, Not so provisioned would he have set forth On his last journey,

having enemies Innumerable as the desert sands, Equal his friends in number to God’s Name.

The mystery that was epitomized In Abraham and Ishmael through his life And death stood forth at last in full revealed.

Firm as a mountain-chain was his resolve, Impetuous, unwavering to its goal

The Sword is for the glory of the Faith And is unsheathed but to defend the Law.

The Muslim, servant unto God alone Before no Pharaoh casteth down his head.

His blood interpreted these mysteries, And waked our slumbering community.

He drew the sword There is none other god And shed the blood of them that served the lie;

Inscribing in the wilderness save God He wrote for all to read the exordium Of our salvation.

From Husain we learned The riddle of the Book, and at his flame Kindled our torches.

Vanished now from ken Damascus might, the splendour of Baghdad, Granada’s majesty, all lost to mind;

Yet still the strings he smote within our soul Vibrate, still ever new our faith abides In his Allahu Akbar

Gentle breeze, Thou messenger of them that are afar, Bear these my tears to lave his holy dust.