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In the Name of God بسم الله

Draped In Black

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The valley of Hijaaz is in darkened, mourning and in tears,

Today, after so long, Rasul hears the enemies mocking jeers,

As his confidant lay silent, the comforter of his fears,

He knows this will be the most burdened of funeral biers;

That which bears the wife of Muhammad, Nabi al Khitaam,

The pure Lady Khadijatul Kubra, Ummul aytaam

When the boycott came, she went with him to the valley that was forsaken,

Where on good days, dried up roots are cooked and as food taken,

A place of hunger and thirst, and firm faith that remained unshaken.

Faithful and content she remained, for her soul had been awaken,

By the message of Rasul; of which she knew he was not mistaken.

On her death bed she is sad for she knows Fatima has no other,

Fatima, who must now grow up and face life without a mother.

Her wish to see her daughter all grown and dressed up as a bride,

Giving her final advices as she supports her in her motherly stride,

She will no longer be there to dry Zahra’s tears when she cried,

Or to listen to her husband as he told her of the pain inside.

The motherly wishes she will not live to see, and asks Rasul to take special care

For the days that are coming for little Fatima, to imagine I will not dare.

Nothing remains in her name from her wealth that was so vast,

And the description of her final shroud will make you aghast.

Thus Khadijah the first and firmest Muslimah breathes her last

In the name of Allah, and in the faith to which she held fast,

She who covered the Prophet and the orphans, today there is no cloth to cover her.

How? The injustice, persecution and oppression make your eyes with tears blur.

Rasul digs her grave with his own two hands,

Then lay for a while on its dark cool sands.

In it he must lay to rest the most excellent and patient of wives,

Who was convinced and supported him when others chose to spare their lives.

When he felt lonely and deserted, burdened by the trials of this world,

She enlivened his heart, and cushioned it against the insults that were hurled.

Then he lays her in it, entrusting her to Allah,

Surely we are from Allah, and our return is to Allah!

How can he forget her, she whose love was given to him by the Divine,

Nor can we forget her, in our hearts this day we enshrine.

A day so dark, in the year of unending sorrows,

Draped in black, standing out against all the morrows.

Salaamullah 'Alayki ya Ummul Mu'mineena wal Mu'minaat Khadijatul Kubra.

S.A ( http://scentedscroll.blogspot.com )

Ziarat of Lady Khadijah: http://www.ziaraat.o...kka/khadija.php

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A well written little panegyric to Khadija - first of Muhammed's wives. I have never heard her life relayed so "heroically", I think may be the word or presented as so heroic; and the anticipation of Fatima's hardship - her's or the poet's? It is more the kind of poem I preferred to read - to be read aloud. No?

As well - I did like your description of the desert. ". . .to the valley that was forsaken,

Where on good days, dried up roots are cooked and as food taken,

A place of hunger and thirst..."

I am going somewhere like that soon.

Edited by Servidor
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You master both english and arabic.

I know both and master neither.

I am really sad I can't enjoy your poem.

Because I know that is the path to your heart.

That I desire the company of.

For it appearently has things to give me.

What are friends for?

And what are people if they are not friends?

God bless the holy prophet.

If he is not holy, I don't know who is.

Peace

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A well written little panegyric to Khadija - first of Muhammed's wives. I have never heard her life relayed so "heroically", I think may be the word or presented as so heroic; and the anticipation of Fatima's hardship - her's or the poet's? It is more the kind of poem I preferred to read - to be read aloud. No?

I tried despite my limited words to express the hero that was lady Khadijah (as). Among the oppression that she faces today is a failure to recognize the invaluable service and dedication she gave to Islam in its infancy, in addition to the incomparable material contributions. In the area of hijaaz, she was known as 'Ummul aytaam' i.e the mother of the orphans for the number of orphans she supported through her wealth and means. Rasul (pbuh) well recognized her contributions and value, and this was something which would make the other wives jealous (there are many incidences in history bearing witness to this). As for her anticipation of Lady Fatimah's hardship.. she did state this when she was on her deathbed, and entrusted her young daughter (max. 6 years) who she knew would not have a mother by her side as she grew up. I think any mother (or person for that matter) can picture how sad and hard it is for a little girl to grow up without her mother (let alone the persecution their family had already faced) and more so as she prepares for her marriage and her wedding day...

As well - I did like your description of the desert. ". . .to the valley that was forsaken,

Where on good days, dried up roots are cooked and as food taken,

A place of hunger and thirst..."

I am going somewhere like that soon.

Eh. You are going by choice? Where is that? Thanks for the feedback, it was insightful and I am glad my message got across ^_^

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I tried despite my limited words to express the hero that was lady Khadijah (as).

Despite my limited words. Now you truly qualify as a poet according to the old standard. Publically pretending your talents are meagre as a preface to well undertaken literary efforts is quite common among ancient authors. Then it was necessary though - if you wrote well, they acclaimed your modesty also. If you wrote poorly - well, he tried his best and alerted us in the prefatory matter to his low education.

Among the oppression that she faces today is a failure to recognize the invaluable service and dedication she gave to Islam in its infancy, in addition to the incomparable material contributions. In the area of hijaaz, she was known as 'Ummul aytaam' i.e the mother of the orphans for the number of orphans she supported through her wealth and means. Rasul (pbuh) well recognized her contributions and value, and this was something which would make the other wives jealous (there are many incidences in history bearing witness to this). As for her anticipation of Lady Fatimah's hardship.. she did state this when she was on her deathbed, and entrusted her young daughter (max. 6 years) who she knew would not have a mother by her side as she grew up. I think any mother (or person for that matter) can picture how sad and hard it is for a little girl to grow up without her mother (let alone the persecution their family had already faced) and more so as she prepares for her marriage and her wedding day...'

I did not know most of these things. My reading in the Shia Ithna Ashari ahadith literature did not leave me with many memories of Khadija - but I was not as firmly read in them as I was in the Sunni. A friend's mother who was very kind and lived next door to the masjid at Wallsend was named Khadija. Most Sunni siraat give a place to all nine wives in order and usually Khadija and Aisha come in independently in the narrative as well (as does Hafsa but usually only to mention that she was the daughter of Umar ibn Khattab and that the Qu'ran was compiled from her private copy) - Khadija as the first wife and Muslimah. She took over financial considerations and allowed Muhammed before Islam to spend time in solitude. She then comforted and reassured him after the incident involving the first ayaat of the Qu'ran and she had an uncle who again assured him. Khadija died before Hijra. That is all I knew.

Eh. You are going by choice? Where is that?

Yes. Eremvm - the desert or the wilderness.

Thanks for the feedback, it was insightful and I am glad my message got across ^_^

I am pleased my comments were well received. Poetry with a "message" to get across is, in my opinion, better than introspective poetry concerning ourselves and our emotional state - though these are more attractive and easily read than those with better causes and higher aims. The greatest of the secular poets (they are two...) in a sense combined both in epic - so that their work was emotionally involving by making their characters clearly as alive as their readers (only more moving because of the distance they are from us - because of the centuries between us however much alike we are; you are so close you could call out to them - so far that you do not know if they ever existed), their circumstances tragic and realistic (even though no longer real) or even possible to their readership and their reactions and successes and failures only as great as most men's can be; solely as great as time and place and other men and their decisions and ambitions and mistakes - allow. But I have gone on.

Edited by Servidor
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Despite my limited words. Now you truly qualify as a poet according to the old standard. Publically pretending your talents are meagre as a preface to well undertaken literary efforts is quite common among ancient authors. Then it was necessary though - if you wrote well, they acclaimed your modesty also. If you wrote poorly - well, he tried his best and alerted us in the prefatory matter to his low education.

LOL yippee finally a poet. I started writing poetry (after being a total non poetry person) in March this year, so if i am exhibiting poet like tendencies (old or new) that is certainly amusing :D

I did not know most of these things. My reading in the Shia Ithna Ashari ahadith literature did not leave me with many memories of Khadija - but I was not as firmly read in them as I was in the Sunni. A friend's mother who was very kind and lived next door to the masjid at Wallsend was named Khadija. Most Sunni siraat give a place to all nine wives in order and usually Khadija and Aisha come in independently in the narrative as well (as does Hafsa but usually only to mention that she was the daughter of Umar ibn Khattab and that the Qu'ran was compiled from her private copy) - Khadija as the first wife and Muslimah. She took over financial considerations and allowed Muhammed before Islam to spend time in solitude. She then comforted and reassured him after the incident involving the first ayaat of the Qu'ran and she had an uncle who again assured him. Khadija died before Hijra. That is all I knew.

One would need to scratch beneath the surface to expose themselves to a lot of the beauty of Islam. A lot of what appears on the surfaces only surfaces because of it being a reply to a debate or a cause of contention, while the kernel of kernels are left unexposed except to those who go the extra mile and are guided to the radiant illuminating light of Islam.

I am pleased my comments were well received. Poetry with a "message" to get across is, in my opinion, better than introspective poetry concerning ourselves and our emotional state - though these are more attractive and easily read than those with better causes and higher aims. The greatest of the secular poets (they are two...) in a sense combined both in epic - so that their work was emotionally involving by making their characters clearly as alive as their readers (only more moving because of the distance they are from us - because of the centuries between us however much alike we are; you are so close you could call out to them - so far that you do not know if they ever existed), their circumstances tragic and realistic (even though no longer real) or even possible to their readership and their reactions and successes and failures only as great as most men's can be; solely as great as time and place and other men and their decisions and ambitions and mistakes - allow. But I have gone on.

Hmm. I still have a lot to learn in poetry, and am glad to get interesting perspectives. Thanks for that.

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  • 2 weeks later...

You master both english and arabic.

I know both and master neither.

I am really sad I can't enjoy your poem.

Because I know that is the path to your heart.

That I desire the company of.

For it appearently has things to give me.

What are friends for?

And what are people if they are not friends?

God bless the holy prophet.

If he is not holy, I don't know who is.

Peace

I have no idea why I did not see this earlier :wacko:

Let me try provide a translation of the parts in Arabic [i have been told before not to mix Arabic English but lol I cant help it sometimes :blush: and no, I don't speak Arabic, just a few phrases/words here and there]

Muhammad, Nabi al Khitaam, [Muhammad the seal of the Prophets]

The pure Lady Khadijatul Kubra, Ummul aytaam [Khadijah the great, the Mother of the Orphans]

and this wasn't exactly part of the poem:

Salaamullah 'Alayki ya Ummul Mu'mineena wal Mu'minaat Khadijatul Kubra. [May the peace of Allah be upon you O Mother of the believing men and women, Khadijatul Kubra]

Thanks for the comment bro ^_^

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  • 2 weeks later...

I realilze. There are many things I don't know In arabic ...

I speak three languages like you with the quality of each distributed a little different from you.

...

Let me think loudly if there is no inconvience.

I have always thought one should learn as much langages as one can. But recently I have been thinking maybe I should try and perfect one or two of the lanugages I have? Instead of being spread all around I should consentrate about just one language. As such I envy people who knows fewer languages than me since they most probably have better quality in what they have... While my quality is not so good. But then again it is always a matter of practise.

I read you poem here and it was very nice. I learned:

The valley of Hijaaz = A valley near mecca related to the prophet Abraham

Jeer = A mocking shout

biers = The stand on which the coffin stands

stride = long steps

aghast = to become overwhelmed by shock

morrows = tomorrows

Thanks

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I realilze. There are many things I don't know In arabic ...

I speak three languages like you with the quality of each distributed a little different from you.

...

Let me think loudly if there is no inconvience.

I have always thought one should learn as much langages as one can. But recently I have been thinking maybe I should try and perfect one or two of the lanugages I have? Instead of being spread all around I should consentrate about just one language. As such I envy people who knows fewer languages than me since they most probably have better quality in what they have... While my quality is not so good. But then again it is always a matter of practise.

I read you poem here and it was very nice. I learned:

The valley of Hijaaz = A valley near mecca related to the prophet Abraham

Jeer = A mocking shout

biers = The stand on which the coffin stands

stride = long steps

aghast = to become overwhelmed by shock

morrows = tomorrows

Thanks

Nice, what languages do you speak?

as for your translations, very good masha'Allah. I meant stride in the more 'metaphorical' sense, where it means doing something while having the proper capacity and ability to do it, i.e a role which fits you perfectly. For bibi Fatima (as) , who else could play the role of a mother.. I think we are all well aware how crucial a role a mother plays in the 'Big days' of a daughter, and now lady Khadijah (as) would not be there for her Zahra, giving her motherly support.

Jeers: correct translation. Context: Lady Khadijah (as) was a supporter, companion and confidant of Rasul (pbuh) like no other could be, and the enemies of Rasul knew full well what her loss meant to him (hence he can now hear their mocking him for the loss of his supporter)

(wasalam) ^_^

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lol. Shikamoo is not particularly polite, even though that is what is used in most textbooks. it means 'Touch my foot'. The proper version should be: 'nashikamoo' which would mean : I touch your foot (i.e i respect you) , and the person offered such respect responds: marhaba (same meaning as in Arabic). cool you are tri-lingual. masha'Allah.

ok, enough off topic-ness from me :D thanks for your feedback on the poem. Appreciated.

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  • 3 months later...

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