The city of Damascus was soon in sight Through hurried marches...

The city of Damascus was soon in sight Through hurried marches, by day and night Near the gate of the fortress, the caravan halted In blazing sun, the prisoners sweated. The scenes in Kufa, had reached Yazid's ears To disclose their identity, he now feared He announced, that a rebel had been defeated A day of rejoicing, it should be treated.

The city was assuming a gay and festive look Festoons and buntings hung from every nook The victims were scorching under the burning sun To the onlookers, it was all laughter and fun. Sacrificial dates, they threw at them To ward off evil from their dear ones The hungry children tried to eat them Zainab was perplexed and at her wit's end.

"Prophet has forbidden his own family To eat sacrificial offerings, O' you ladies, Do not throw such offerings at our children; Pray, do not increase our pain and burden!" Can it be, they are the family of Muhammad? Their faces and bodies were smeared with mud From some princely family of noble stock Their bearings revealed, without any doubt.

After one full hour, the imperial orders came Bring in the prisoners, the followers of Husayn An elevated throne, lavishly decorated with gold Seven hundred gilded chairs surrounded it, all told. In tattered rags, with dirt and mess Blood oozing from lash-wounds in the flesh Tightly tied in ropes and heavy chains Were the daughters and sisters of Husayn.

On a gold salver, the head of Husayn, At the feet of Yazid, was vindictively laid He could not for a moment believe his eyes These people claimed with Muhammad, blood ties. Yazid was fully drunk; he quivered with rage "Omar Saad, how dare you cheat me, your sage!

These are not the ladies of Husayn." His eyes displayed a thirst for slaying Flinging himself abjectively at Yazid's feet "Mercy, O' Commander of Faithful", he pleaded, "I have carried out your august command, Nay, your every wish, your every demand." "The prisoners are Zaynab and Kulthum, for any doubt, pray have no room, The ailing man is Ali Zainal Abedeen, Other members, may also please be seen." Raising his eye brows, he watched Yazid's face "Ah, there, who is trying to hide from my gaze?" falteringly, he replied, afraid of being snubbed "The old lady is Fizza; behind her is Zaynab." "None, shall protect the prisoners from me; Throw aside Fizza, so that Zaynab I can see." Fizza turned to the slaves, behind the throne With naked swords, as bodyguards they roamed.