Ya Allah, strengthen your creature,
Mighten him so that he may aid,
Aba Abdillah, the Chosen One
For whom saving Islam, was made.
I remain patient, waiting, looking
At the River before me freely flow.
This thirst is weakening my ability,
I do not know how much longer I can go.
My saddle is empty, how do I return?
But how can I, Mawlay ya Mawla?
When your daughter should be the first.
The flag's cool air at my side encourages me,
As I gallop back to our camp again,
This mighty youth hurries me, full of determination.
Abbas! Why do you suddenly let go of my reign?
My saddle is empty, how do I return?
These hooves cannot bring themselves,
To race on these burning hot sands,
My darling, sweet Sakina,
Even I do not want you to remove your hands.
Yet my duty to your beloved father,
I will fulfil,
His final support I shall remain,
From battle, until...
My saddle is empty, how do I return?
Ya Ummul Masaib!
How to you shall I return?
Unable to face you, daughter of Zahra,
My head is bowed, I would rather burn.
I cannot bear to see you, oh Ruqayyah,
Your orphan eyes filled with tears,
Yet how will you know, Princess?
That this is just the start of your fears.
My saddle is empty, how do I return?
Contributed by Fatema Zahra Bandali
