ويعودُ عاشوراءُ يُذكرُني

رُزءَ الحَسين فليت لَم يُعد

And Ashura returns, reminding me once more

of Husayn’s calamity—would that it had not returned.

وليتَ عيناً فيه قد كحِلَت

بِمَسَّرةٍ لم تَخلُ من رَمَدِ

Would that every eye lined with kohl that day

in gladness were never free of inflammation,

ويداً به لشماتَةٍ خُضبت

مقطوعةً من زَندِها بِيِدي

and every hand dyed that day in gloating

were cut from its wrist by my own hand.

يَومُ سبيلي حين أذكُرُهَ

ألاَّ يَدورَ الصَّبرُ في خلدي

When I remember that day, it is my way

to let no patience ever turn within my mind.

أما وقد قُتلَ الحُسَين به

فأبو الحسينِ أحقُ بالكَمَد

But since Husayn was slain on that day,

Abu al-Husayn has the strongest claim to anguish.