رأتني مجدا فاستهلت جفونها — Ibrahim Al Hadrami

She saw me resolved to depart, and her eyelids overflowed

with tears pouring like rain from a cloud.

She yearned for me, fearing separation, with tenderness and compassion,

with a merciful heart inclined to love.

I turned back to her to bid her farewell,

though a caller’s cry had urged me to set out.

When our hands met, her weeping brought tears

to the eyes of the women and attendants around her.

She knew I had risen to a lofty purpose

that made it hard for me to remain among those left behind.

I said to her, as she strained to hold me back

and sought from me a sympathetic pause:

Come to your senses, may good be yours; cease these tears,

and do not perish with longing at a loved one’s departure.

Do not think that, having learned by heart

the opening verses of the Spider, I will stand still.

How could a zealous man stay encamped after

seeing the faith subdued? Who then will defend its teachings?

Should I settle for this passing abode instead of the next,

when its inhabitants pass through it like something hurled?

Woe to me if I do not exert myself, or die

fallen in battle, or give myself to the cause among its companies.

I can attain what I hope for only through resolve

that breaks the two ravens of wishing and delay,

through parting from loved ones and renouncing pleasures,

banishing sleep and crossing through dangers.

Did it alarm you when someone ignorant of our cause said,

‘Before them lies a sea full of deadly perils’?

As though a young man bent on striving for the faith would fear

the heaving of foaming, surging waves.

With God’s help, we shall cross it in support of His faith,

though one seeking an easy passage must swim in it.

We shall press through the depths of the seas

toward noble brothers, proud and high minded.

Each young man among them has decisive resolve,

a lion’s strength, and the aspiration of one who knows.

Those men upheld the truth after fierce struggles,

spear thrusts, and prolonged delays.

Through them the battered remnant of our faith will revive,

and the gardens of tyranny and revelry will suffer.

Dughar ibn Ahmad, and the young man

descended from Mahdi, and every opponent will learn,

when those seeking victory arrive with an army

and brandish bright blades like snatching lightning,

that we have an arm to defend honor and faith,

and that God has a host advancing into battle.

How many will rejoice in Ahmad’s protection

when it is seen above the peaks and hillocks!

And how many grief stricken people will suffer when that host appears,

dragging its spears as their ribs tremble.

The faces of those who uphold falsehood will be worn and contorted

when they are seized by truth with a forceful grip.

The hands of those who uphold falsehood will fall short of their aims,

as will their swagger among the people in lofty places.

The axis of faith will return to its proper place,

and the people of revelry will be given death’s poisons.

Honor belongs only to God and His messengers

and to the radiant believers who recite the scripture.

O Ahzan, you are our refuge,

as your forebears were a refuge in former times.

We remembered you when layers of darkness covered us,

darkness born of oppression beyond any describer’s count.

We came without strength or a supporting company,

without weapons or wealth, inherited or newly won.

In hardship we count on no one but you

to dispel the successive depths of darkness.

Do not let the enemies gloat over the truth after

we have pledged it support despite every fearful person.

How many pale people with weakened resolve we left behind,

along with those seeking counsel, hoping for victory, or afraid.

And send blessings upon Ahmad, the adornment of the Resurrection,

intercessor for humankind when the books are opened,

throughout time, whenever winds blow

and torrents of rain pour from trembling clouds.