And after they had killed him they invaded his princely house. They
attacked like preying wolves, like lions at the hunt, and they sacked and
plundered and pillaged, seizing the rich furnishings, the ornaments and
the jewels. She was in dire peril then, left with the fragments of her
broken heart. This violent assault took place when the news of his
martyrdom was spread abroad, and the children cried out as panic struck at
their hearts; they wailed and shed tears, and sounds of mourning rose from
out of that splendid home, but there was none to weep over them, there was
none to pity them. Rather was the night of tyranny made to deepen about
them, and the fiery Hell of injustice blazed out hotter than before; nor
was there any torment but the evil doers brought it to bear, nor any agony
but they inflicted it. And this holy leaf remained, she and her brood, in
the grip of their oppressors, facing the malice of the unmindful, with
none to be their shield.
And the days passed by when tears were her only companions, and her
comrades were cries; when she was mated to anguish, and had nothing but
grief for a friend. And yet in these sufferings, O my Lord, she did not
cease to love Thee; she did not fail Thee, O my Beloved, in these fiery
ordeals. Though disasters followed one upon another, though tribulations
compassed her about, she bore them all, she patiently endured them all, to
her they were Thy gifts and favors, and in all her massive agony—O Thou,
Lord of most beauteous names—Thy praise was on her lips.
Then she gave up her homeland, rest, refuge and shelter, and taking her
young, like the birds she winged her way to this bright and holy Land—that
here she might nest and sing Thy praise as the birds do, and busy herself
in Thy love with all her powers, and serve Thee with all her being, all
her soul and heart. She was lowly before every handmaid of Thine, humble
before every leaf of the garden of Thy Cause, occupied with Thy
remembrance, severed from all except Thyself.
And her cries were lifted up at dawntide, and the sweet accents of her
chanting would be heard in the night season and at the bright noonday,
until she returned unto Thee, and winged her way to Thy Kingdom; went
seeking the shelter of Thy Threshold and soared upward to Thine
everlasting sky. O my Lord, reward her with the contemplation of Thy
beauty, feed her at the table of Thine eternity, give her a home in Thy
neighborhood, sustain her in the gardens of Thy holiness as Thou willest
and pleasest; bless Thou her lodging, keep her safe in the shade of Thy
heavenly Tree; lead her, O Lord, into the pavilions of Thy godhood, make
her to be one of Thy signs, one of Thy lights.
Verily Thou art the Generous, the Bestower, the Forgiver, the
All-Merciful.
SHAMSU’D-ḌUḤÁ
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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