The poets have written and the scholars have preached,
Yet the value of Ali no understanding can reach,
An eternity has passed and another will come,
The Earth's ink could diminish and al tongues could go numb,
Yet no heart of his lover is able to rest
For this love of Ali remains trapped in their chest,
No words can unlock it and no action can earn
And through a million books, only a fraction they'd learn.
What is this mystery that no mind can perceive?
What lies in the depths of the souls that believe?
What is the reason that they call us insane,
When the essence of sanity with his love we gain?
It is the man that no man understands,
Save the last messenger to all of these lands,
The Lion from whom the enemies would flee,
The servant who would break his bread on his knee,
The man who would cry out into a well,
With secrets in his heart and no believer to tell.
Which man speaks words like pearls from the heaven?
Which light is this, followed by the other eleven?
Which prince shares his progeny with a mistress unmatched?
To which soul and which mind is all truth attached?
This soul is the hero of Siffeen and Hunayn,
The nurturing father of the pure Hassanain,
The generous slave who bows while he gives,
This is the man whose name always lives,
Whose enemies' lives are wasted in vain,
In countless attempts to have this gem slain.
But what is this rarity that circles my mind?
Makes me hear nothing and turns my eyes blind,
So that his words are the only words that I see,
And a servant of these words all hearts want to be.
Which man is the line between falsehood and truth?
Which warrior's courage stood unshaken since youth?
The soldier who did not need his sword to slay,
Only his novel of a name he would say,
"Know that I am Ali" and the enemy inside would die,
One strike and soon after, "Allahu Akbar" he would cry,
He, whose shield had shielded his brother,
A man like whom there has been no other,
The seal of the Prophets and best of all men,
…Inseparable now and inseparable then.
The hero who lifted the gate of Khaybar,
My master, Ali, my leader, Haidar,
The half that Our Lady perfectly completed,
By whose enemies the fires of hell are heated,
The man who one night sold his soul to his Lord,
And cried out in victory upon being struck by the sword,
Sayyidi, Mawlai, Ameeri Ali,
Ni3mel Ameer wa ni3mel Wali.