1. An anguish that does not subside,
A passion that does not depart,

2. A grief I have not yet removed,
More confounded than it, though morn arrives,

3. And a sorrow whenever it wanes,
Its light returns to be kindled,

4. And enviers attempting but no
Way where they jest,

5. Thus he is miserable if present
And hurts if absent,

6. So deviant and evasive
And evident and frank,

7. Like a son who howls
And behind, like a dog that barks,

8. My wonder is trouble persists in us and lodges,
And turns of fate sometimes thrust and sometimes gore,

9. For my students, for the comfort of
Living and death, I go,

10. Tell the unjust profit
Through praise if he continues praising,

11. Praise the Prophet's family, O unjust,
Through it profit profits,

12. Through them salvation is granted
Tomorrow when fates are apportioned

13. And through them matters are corrected
Which cannot otherwise be corrected,

14. No eloquent one but by them
Is more eloquent than he,

15. They surpassed explaining the prohibition
With an advice none can explain,

16. To the dispossessed they are
The most generous hands and most giving,

17. Whenever weighed against them
They are weightier,

18. The birds of fire in the deserts
Birds whose cries ever resonate,

19. Crying woefully, not knowing
That I for them lament,

20. I am more woeful in spirit than they
And more compassionate and wounded,

21. I have a heart whose fire
Every day salt and burning,

22. And desolate in the horizon's expanse
Are my scorches detailed,

23. For al-Husayn whom the affairs
With his mention overflow,

24. The son of one who stood by guidance
When standing advising,

25. The slaughtered, slaughtered of
Thirst, as he is slaughtered,

26. One who saw the Prophet's son
In his blood, how he swims

27. Aspiring, his gaze towards
His family when he aspires,

28. Blinking his eye,
While in Karbala's woes, opening,

29. In me is an ardor for al-Husayn
That agonizes my heart and wounds,

30. A hero whose like
No bed has ever contained,

31. Honors glimpse from
His face when they glimpse,

32. What grave through the slain
Became filled, triumphant,

33. By my father the slain, discarded
To exaltation, in it discarded,

34. The earth's expanse by it
Grieves while the interior rejoices,

35. The journey was pleasant with the slain, and they became
From a slain poured

36. On its sides, the birds wings,
And a fallen whose

37. Dirt covers and discards,
So may Allah greet

38. My callers protected by them when they met,
How ugly! Unless the people rode

39. More ugly than it,
The House of the Prophet,

40. Why from you do I sway?
Successful those who

41. Remained in your guidance and succeeded,
I in that have no peer

42. That I strive and work for,
Perhaps Allah will pardon my

43. Sins and forgive.