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In the Name of God بسم الله

Last Chance

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  1. A ferocious warrior, a soft spoken sage, No other man could be both in any era or age, A servant so humble, an emperor so great, Never has a man possessed both traits so innate, The father of orphans, the prince of a nation, Two faces in this world which have no relation, And yet, my Master, you were all of these things, Everything and more, your virtues gushing like springs, A man has only one heart, so how were you, you? How are you everything, how can you be true? I sat at the gate of my heart just as you sat at yours, And He showed me how all this in your heart flows. For if a man sits as watchful as you of his heart, And no iota of doubt can take it apart, Then that man is not certain, but certainty itself, And if he defeats the whole of disbelief alone, Then that man is not faithful, but the very faith itself, And if you lifted the gate which forty men couldn't, Then you are not strong but rather strength itself, And if you demonstrate the impossible, Then surely you are the hand of God Himself, And I have no words to describe your words, Suffice to say you are the word of God itself. An eternity could pass yet your mystery will always be, You are the blinding light that allows us to see, The deafening truth that allows us to hear, The saint whom we call in any worry or fear, No words can describe you and no mind can perceive, Your justice no judge or wise man can achieve, And your lineage...where can I even begin? Divinity and godliness and cures are found therein, And why not, when their mother is their mother, The radiant soul, and there will never be another, And your light is the light of God's most adored, The messenger you guarded with your life and your sword, You are Ali- elevated in every way, Second to none but one, no matter what they say, The spark that ignites every beat of my heart, The beauty of both worlds- God's own work of art, The victor in battle and of the hearts of the pure, Your allegiance is the promise of a future secure, Your name is my cure in affliction and pain, And I will call out to you again and again, Let them mock and deny and say what they please, I'll smile as you rescue me from hardship to ease. Tonight and always, my heart overflows, Your love is infinite and within me it grows, The more I know you, the less I can contain, Abu Thar was in love- he wasn't insane, A badge of honour and a mark of pride, He couldn't conceal it even if he tried, You are the wealth which can't be taken away, And so we will praise you all night and all day, Judgement will come and still we won't finish, Your virtue and glory will never diminish. So I ask one last time, how are you, you? A sage and a lion, how can both be true? How can these virtues fit in one heart? And I have only one answer- you are God's work of art.
  2. A ferocious warrior, a soft spoken sage, No other man could be both in any era or age, A servant so humble, an emperor so great, Never has a man possessed both traits so innate, The father of orphans, the prince of a nation, Two faces in this world which have no relation, And yet, my Master, you were all of these things, Everything and more, your virtues gushing like springs, A man has only one heart, so how were you, you? How are you everything, how can you be true? I sat at the gate of my heart just as you sat at yours, And He showed me how all this in your heart flows. For if a man sits as watchful as you of his heart, And no iota of doubt can take it apart, Then that man is not certain, but certainty itself, And if he defeats the whole of disbelief alone, Then that man is not faithful, but the very faith itself, And if you lifted the gate which forty men couldn't, Then you are not strong but rather strength itself, And if you demonstrate the impossible, Then surely you are the hand of God Himself, And I have no words to describe your words, Suffice to say you are the word of God itself. An eternity could pass yet your mystery will always be, You are the blinding light that allows us to see, The deafening truth that allows us to hear, The saint whom we call in any worry or fear, No words can describe you and no mind can perceive, Your justice no judge or wise man can achieve, And your lineage...where can I even begin? Divinity and godliness and cures are found therein, And why not, when their mother is their mother, The radiant soul, and there will never be another, And your light is the light of God's most adored, The messenger you guarded with your life and your sword, You are Ali- elevated in every way, Second to none but one, no matter what they say, The spark that ignites every beat of my heart, The beauty of both worlds- God's own work of art, The victor in battle and of the hearts of the pure, Your allegiance is the promise of a future secure, Your name is my cure in affliction and pain, And I will call out to you again and again, Let them mock and deny and say what they please, I'll smile as you rescue me from hardship to ease. Tonight and always, my heart overflows, Your love is infinite and within me it grows, The more I know you, the less I can contain, Abu Thar was in love- he wasn't insane, A badge of honour and a mark of pride, He couldn't conceal it even if he tried, You are the wealth which can't be taken away, And so we will praise you all night and all day, Judgement will come and still we won't finish, Your virtue and glory will never diminish. So I ask one last time, how are you, you? A sage and a lion, how can both be true? How can these virtues fit in one heart? And I have only one answer- you are God's work of art.
  3. I was wondering if anybody had any good recommendations for books/lectures/resources regarding parenting, but for newborns in particular. Many of the books I have come across cover parenting for slightly older children or toddlers but I have struggled to find much for the beginning stages for first time parents. The resources can be from Muslims or non-Muslims, although I would prefer an Islamic theme. Any other tips or advice are most welcome too. Thank you.
  4. InshaAllah I will be posting art pieces and calligraphy that I have tried to create, here. I would appreciate constructive feedback Here are a few pieces:
  5. Easypersian.com has hundreds of free lessons. Also theres a brilliant book called Colloquial Persian which can be found on Amazon. Listening to Farsi lectures/TV serials etc also helps.
  6. I learnt briefly at Hawza but one of the books that really helped was this one.
  7. I was wondering if anyone could please recommend some simple Farsi books for someone at beginner/intermediate level (I have completed books 1-4 from the Jami'atul Mustafa series). I am happy to read any type of book- fiction/non-fiction, novels, etc to get more practice and experience- ideally books that can be ordered or accessed online. Thank you.
  8. Just downloaded this app- it's brilliant. May you be rewarded abundantly inshAllah.
  9. خیلی ممنون @shadow_of_light
  10. I would be extremely grateful if someone could find me a translation for this beautiful poem: https://ganjoor.net/shahriar/gozidegh/sh2/ Thank you
  11. Alone, in the dark, a young girl is weeping, Not knowing what her heart has always been seeking, So, now, to her Lord, she is finally speaking, Revealing the secrets she thought she'd been keeping. Her Lord listens to her with indescribable love, He watches her raise her weak hands, above. "My Lord, I beg you to enter my heart, To you, all my sorrows, I wish to impart, This emptiness, I can bear it no more, I feel I am drowning and you are my shore." She buries her wet face in the palms of her hands, For she knows that He, alone, understands, But she wonders if she is worthy of His mercy, so great, She wonders if forgiveness and love are her fate. "My Lord, I have neglected my soul, I never gave heed to my purpose or goal, And now, I need You to set my soul right, I have no-one but You in the midst of this night." Tears flow from her eyes like a thunderous river, As she awaits the reply from this Generous Giver, But He waits and He watches as she continues to cry, So she calls desperately into the night sky, "My Lord, You are everything I need, Of any happiness, You are the seed, I yearn for You to make my heart whole, To take Your place, this world previously stole." With nothing more to give, the girl gets to her feet, As longing for her Lord fills her every heartbeat. She raises her hands, one final time, Her soul weighed down by her forgetful crime. "My Lord, You are my only, last hope, Without you, I know, I won't be able to cope, To feel Your presence, my soul, I can sell, All I want is that in my heart, You dwell. My Lord, I want You to open my soul's eyes, And to put an end to my grievous cries, You said that Your friends feel no sorrow, nor pain, So befriend me, God, let this night not pass in vain." As she tires from this begging, her eyes slowly close, And she feels that her yearning, now surely, He knows, Her Lord looks lovingly at the slumbering youth, And knows that her words carried nothing but truth. So He enters her soul and whispers some words, Sweeter than the chirping of awakening birds, "...Call upon me; I will answer you," (40: 60) And more than this, what else could be true?
  12. How I must beg, I do not know, Now I've learnt to let these tears flow, For I've begged you and with you I've pleaded, And maybe your nearness, some others have needed, But you know who I am and you know what I need, Is it the pain when I feel my heart bleed? Tell me how to beg, for I do not know, How do I see your golden dome glow? My tears have been shed and my soul has felt sorrow, And desperation has set for news of tomorrow, And disappointments of which I have lost count, Aren't these reasons enough? Too small in amount? But how I must beg, I do not know, So now I beg you to teach me and show. To your love, I've submitted, for how can one not? And of my life's story, I've made you the plot, I've discarded of any beginning or end, For I know that my heart, only you can mend, But to beg you better, I just don't know how, A lifetime's attempts and in shame, I still bow. Regarding my worth, I will not speak, For in you and your service, my own worth, I seek, But tell me what in my pleading is wrong, Is the pain in my love for you not strong? I will not ask you, from me, what you want, For what king can gain from his servant's servant? All I ask is, my emptiness you understand, My craving to weep on Karbala's sand, The heavenly walk, baynol haramayn, To shout with the millions, "Labbaika ya Hussain", To drown in your love and to die in that state, Be worthy of smelling the scent of your gate, To look up into your once-red, blue sky, And have no sense but to helplessly cry, In awe of your beauty and the fact that I'm here, In the hope that I might return in a year, And the realisation that this isn't a dream, Blinded by this love and your dome's golden beam, The heat of the sun striking all those in black, To walk towards your shrine and never look back, Relive your sorrow and make it my own, Watch your black flag in the wind, being blown, To feel a long-lost peace in my heart, Forgetting that from here, we'll all once depart, Engrave these memories deep in my soul, For my emptiness to fill, making me whole. And for the rest of my life, to live on these tears, If you'd just end the waiting I've done for these years. Allahumma irzoqni ziyaratel Hussein ((عليه السلام).)
  13. 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.
  14. Yesterday, they sent me a king, One whose praises they all seem to sing, He told me he could grant me some wealth, And if I served well, some more for my health, But with this king, I was not content, So him, like the others, away I sent. I met another who offered me fame, Said all the world's tongues could utter my name, All it would take was my obliging hand, And he'd turn my lowliness into something so grand, But with this king, I was not content, So him, like the others, away I sent. A third one arrived a fortnight before, Met my humble abode with a knock on my door, He told me he'd make my children my pride, And in a house of gold, he'd make me reside, But with this king, I was not content, So him, like the others, away I sent. Like this they kept coming and as always, they went, And my heart wished not to serve any king the world sent, And so in this frustration, I sought a way out, I went on a journey with my luggage of doubt, Perhaps I was too harsh on the kings that had come? Should I have listened a little to some? But now on this journey, it was too late, And to turn them away, it seemed was my fate. In the midst of this voyage I still had no goal, For I knew not where to find the cure for my soul, So I stopped for a while and stepped onto the ground, And a scent filled my heart with beauty profound, And as I walked on the sand to follow this scent, The weight on my shoulders seemed to relent, 'Til I reached a sight that was ice to my eyes, In this heat of the sun under heaven's red skies. I saw a gold light where the sun hit the dome, And a red flag like a sign on the door of a home, And masses of servants running to their master inside, Where I thought the royals of this land would reside, But I looked again and saw no servants around, Only kings and queens in their dignity, crowned, So, confused, I asked where the servants might be, And one man told me that the servant was he, But another man came and said, "Servant? That's me," Then another and another, and they all said the same, And soon every royal in that place made that claim. Finally, a woman told me the truth, She was the wisest and most modest of youth, She said that these people were not kings or queens, Until they had served her son through their means, She told me that his service turned slaves into kings, The way a goldsmith turns stones into rings, She showed me why other kings, I had turned down, Why each one was simply a slave in a gown- What king needs his servants and roams the low Earth? The true king's servants struggle to meet him since birth. Like a lost orphan who seeks a father's embrace, I'd serve all my life for the peace in that place, So here I stand, still waiting outside, And by his principals, I try to abide, So that maybe one day, we might finally meet, And this king of kings, I might humbly greet, And perhaps he might accept me as his, Maybe he'll turn my pain into bliss, For the servants of a king of kings feel no pain, The cure for their ailments is the love of Hussein ((عليه السلام)).
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