ভূমিকা

Shiavault - a Vault of Shia Islamic Books Sorrow and Sufferings (11) The Journey To Kufa The sun rose, crimson-red was its color Downcast with shame, the world looked duller Ladies and children, huddled with shambled remains The victors rejoiced, without compunction or shame. Vying with one another, to torture and torment They took delight, in causing them lament Marching them, by the bodies of their dear ones Before being taken to Kufa, in a caravan.

Without any saddles, on camels' bare-backs The ladies were put in a sheep like pack Bound hand and foot, with ropes and chains Children's necks were tied with their hands. Burning with fever and heavily chained Zainal Abedeen was marched, though in pain The heads of the martyrs, carried on spears Headed the procession of Muhammad's dears. Kufa was reached in a few hectic hours Shimr and Khooli gloated, over and over To the governor was sent a courier The caravan stopped at a barrier.

Zaynab and Kulthum had resided for four years In Kufa as daughters of Islam's ruler Now, they were captives of those Muslims, Who were steeped in vices and sins. The grand daughters of the Prophet of Islam Were too noble, to cause anyone least harm Helpless victims of those followers of Muhammad; The lofty principles of Islam were thrown in mud. O' Kufa, recall the days of glory of Zaynab!

The honored daughter of the noblest of Arabs For four years, Kufians vied with each other Every wish of theirs to fulfill like a mother. The same Kufa now wore a festive look People gathered in every corner and nook To watch the grand daughters of Muhammad People of Kufa were now thirsty for their blood.

Heading the caravan, the town crier was crying aloud The prisoners are Zaynab and Kulthum, beyond doubt Husayn and his followers have all been slain, By Yazid's might and power, on Karbala's plain. All who question Yazid, such is their fate Beware, lest you be subjected to such hate If you obey Yazid, without any question Rewards will be plenty and pleasingly handsome.

When the identity was revealed, some were sad Ladies and children of the house of Muhammad; Could they be captives and his grand-son murdered? None, however, dared protest; they merely shuddered. It was noon, the sun increasingly blazing Continuous pleading for water, Zaynab was facing It was futile, to ask the brutes for water Zaynab was explaining to Husayn's daughter.