When they asked, what Husayn meant to me,
I blinked, and closed my eyes a little longer.
While getting accustomed to the darkness of the unknown
I opened them again and experienced certainty.
This. This is what Husayn means to me. The innate movement
Of my eyelids, whose blinking, became the heartbeat of my sight.
For the love of Husayn is the only sun
Whose depth blinds me by its light
As much as its edges enlighten me with their rays
When they asked, what Husayn meant to me,
I lit a candle and sat next to it. I swaddled its flame
By enfolding it with my hands, and kept swaying
My fingers between gentle warmth and burning heat.
This. This is what Husayn means to me. The constant swaying
Of my hands, oscillating between Fire and light
For the love of Husayn is the only one
Whose sparkle sets the candle of my life alight as much as
Its fire consumes the finite thread of my existence
When they asked, what Husayn meant to me,
I lifted a reed stick and made it drink from the ocean of love
I then let it bleed on the petals of a dying rose
Whose colors came and left, without it blossoming
This. This is what Husayn means to me. The ink
Whose fragrance instils life to forever fading souls.
For the love of Husayn is the only one
Whose life itself is the melodious meaning of spring
As much as its sacrifice is the soothing silence of fall
When they asked, what Husayn meant to me
I made a jar with my hands and filled them with tears.
As some of them evaporated towards moving clouds and skies,
Some slipped through my fingers and became pillars on the ground.
This. This is what Husayn means to me. ‘The lightest of tears
Whose weight leave footsteps on the Ground they fall’
For the tears shed in the name of Husayn are the only ones
Whose utmost sincerity elevates one towards the seven skies
As much as they ground one’s faith with firmness on this earth.
This is what Husayn means to me.
This is what his love has done to me.
