Post by toweringniceguy on Jan 24, 2007 12:04:49 GMT 10
The story of "Sakina (A.S)" the 4 years daughter of "Imam Hussain (A.S)"
Walking in chains on the hot sand,
We are women of our prophet.
Cruel men have ripped off our hijab,
As if ripping a seal from a wound.
A scar is imprinted.
Sand is blowing in my eyes,
I can see a little girl.
Sakina.
Daughter of Imam Hussain.
My heart aches to watch her small limbs
Walking in Chains amongst us.
Looking at her hurts my eyes.
She is like a bright star amongst a dull universe.
A stranger is approaching her.
He lifts his hand to her ear and roughly rips
An earring from her ear.
Tears prick my eyes as my fingers rush to my own ear.
Fear.
She was still looking at the stranger,
eyes filled with Tears,
blood softly trickling down her neck.
Please, Stop hurting her.
I wish my thoughts were more forceful
I wish I could run in front of her,
protect her.
Every woman standing looked at the man,
pleadingly.
Once again, the man raises his hand,
touching her ear.
Once again he roughly pulls an earring.
Blood spills.
Tears filled the eyes of every woman present.
Silence was the only comfort.
Has he no conscience?
Yet, head held high,
Sakina walks on.
For her father is Hussain,
And soon there will be no more Pain.
Walking in chains on the hot sand,
We are women of our prophet.
Cruel men have ripped off our hijab,
As if ripping a seal from a wound.
A scar is imprinted.
Sand is blowing in my eyes,
I can see a little girl.
Sakina.
Daughter of Imam Hussain.
My heart aches to watch her small limbs
Walking in Chains amongst us.
Looking at her hurts my eyes.
She is like a bright star amongst a dull universe.
A stranger is approaching her.
He lifts his hand to her ear and roughly rips
An earring from her ear.
Tears prick my eyes as my fingers rush to my own ear.
Fear.
She was still looking at the stranger,
eyes filled with Tears,
blood softly trickling down her neck.
Please, Stop hurting her.
I wish my thoughts were more forceful
I wish I could run in front of her,
protect her.
Every woman standing looked at the man,
pleadingly.
Once again, the man raises his hand,
touching her ear.
Once again he roughly pulls an earring.
Blood spills.
Tears filled the eyes of every woman present.
Silence was the only comfort.
Has he no conscience?
Yet, head held high,
Sakina walks on.
For her father is Hussain,
And soon there will be no more Pain.
Chand meri zameen phool mera watan