Which in every light seems to glisten
My heart immediately made a new home
And to it, I couldn't help but listen
Here is buried the master of free men
Paragon of virtue upon virtue in life
That earth hosts no loftier denizen
Equal composure in blessing and strife
Buried in secret, in the dead of the night
Now Najaf radiates a spiritual light
Drawing all those who salute his right
And keep alive remembrance of his life.
Feet finding the path of millions before
And I run before the opportunity goes
Finding my way without needing to see
The Father of Dust is calling to me
Ya Ali (as)
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I wish. This is my imagination only.
One day, iA
Lovely, lovely, lovely. Did you actually feel this way when you went for Arbaeen a year or two back? Would be interesting to read a then-and-now piece : )
ReplyDeleteThank you.
ReplyDeleteErm, yes and no. The first time I visited, I felt something altogether different. The last time I visited, I felt something akin to this, but my own words are inadequate.