He awoke with a startle,
With an echoing scream,
From the next day's sorrow,
He had seen in a dream.

And he heard through the darkness,
The younger ones' cries,
And rushed forth to wipe,
The dry tears from their eyes.

And Zeinab(AS) who saw,
Her brother's remorse,
Grew quiet and whispered,
In a voice dry and hoarse:

"Ya Hussein, you know,
That He makes life anew,
That the children in Jannah,
Will all be there with you."

He told her "Dear Zeinab,
Death isn't, what troubles my mind,
How can I tell Fatema(AS),
That I left you behind??

This life is a prison,
From which I thirst to be free,
But I wish that my Zeinab,
I could take you with me."

And she comforted him,
In a voice strong and calm,
In a voice that would shout,
With the strength of Islam,

When the next day in Kufaa,
With Malice and glee,
Kufaar would spill blood,
From the sons of Ali(AS).

And the grounds would too shake,
With every word that she said,
and Izrail'd weap,
at the sight of the dead.

And skies would shower down,
Upon Karbala's stain,
Where lay headless bodies,
Of Ashabul-Hussain(AS),

Whose lips would still call,
At the wake of their dawn,
Grieving Zeinab(AS) to prayer,
With the song of Adhan.

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