Tu Na Aaya Ghazi

al-e-imran kahan aur zindan kahan le behan qaid hui

How far the family of Imran from the dungeon's walls — yet your sister was taken captive.

tu na aya ghazi jab rida sar se chini mai sada deti rahi tu na aya ghazi

You did not come, O Ghazi — when my veil was torn from my head I kept calling out to you, but you did not come, O Ghazi.

aagai sham e alam lut gaye ehl e haram rait per jalti hui hogaya thanda alam pursa dene ke liye tujh se milne ke liye agaye baba Ali

The evening of calamity descended and the people of the sacred household were plundered, burning upon the scorching sand, the world grew cold and still. To offer condolence, to be near you once more — our father Ali himself came.

tu na aya ghazi jab rida sar se chini mai sada deti rahi tu na aya ghazi

You did not come, O Ghazi — when my veil was torn from my head I kept calling out to you, but you did not come, O Ghazi.

dhoop main to tha shajr tujh se abad tha ghar hai barhana mera sar kiya nahi tujh ko khabar aye alamdar e wafa us behan ko ba khuda tujhse dharas thi bari

In the blazing sun you were my sheltering tree, through you our home had life and meaning. Now my head is bare and uncovered — did you not know, did no word reach you? O standard-bearer of loyalty, by God, your sister placed her greatest trust in you.

tu na aya ghazi jab rida sar se chini mai sada deti rahi tu na aya ghazi

You did not come, O Ghazi — when my veil was torn from my head I kept calling out to you, but you did not come, O Ghazi.

kiya kahon sher mere be rida hum ko liye ye musalman saray shehr dar shehr gaye khilqat e Kufa kabhi khalqat e Shaam kabhi baraha hum pe hansi

What can I say — my lion, they led us away unveiled and without shelter. These very Muslims paraded us from city to city, town to town. The people of Kufa at times, the people of Shaam at others — they openly mocked us along the way.

tu na aya ghazi jab rida sar se chini mai sada deti rahi tu na aya ghazi

You did not come, O Ghazi — when my veil was torn from my head I kept calling out to you, but you did not come, O Ghazi.

kitni bebas thi behan aye shehanshah e wafa naam le le ke mera jab ye zalim ne kaha naaz tha jis pe tujhe ab bulao na usay aur main roti rahina aya ghazi

How utterly helpless your sister was, O king of loyalty — when that oppressor called out my name and taunted: 'Call now upon the one you were so proud of!' And I kept weeping — you did not come, O Ghazi.

tu na aya ghazi jab rida sar se chini mai sada deti rahi tu na aya ghazi

You did not come, O Ghazi — when my veil was torn from my head I kept calling out to you, but you did not come, O Ghazi.

hum ko pani na mile teri khushboo to rahay tere bazu na katain chahe mashkeza chiday ye magar ho na saka tere bazu hain juda mujh pe hai tashna labi na aya ghazi

We were denied water, yet your fragrance stayed with us — I would have wished your arms never severed, even if the water-skin had burst. But it could not be — your arms were cut away, and upon me fell this burning thirst; you did not come, O Ghazi.

tu na aya ghazi jab rida sar se chini mai sada deti rahi tu na aya ghazi

You did not come, O Ghazi — when my veil was torn from my head I kept calling out to you, but you did not come, O Ghazi.

kya Sakina se kahon aye mere dil ke sukoon haye pani ke liye beh gaya sub tera khoon abb koi aas nahi tou mere pass nahi rasi shanoon main bandhi na aya ghazi

What shall I say to Sakina, O solace of my heart? Alas — for water, all of your blood was spilled. Now there is no hope left, you are no longer by my side, ropes bound upon our shoulders — you did not come, O Ghazi.

tu na aya ghazi jab rida sar se chini mai sada deti rahi tu na aya ghazi

You did not come, O Ghazi — when my veil was torn from my head I kept calling out to you, but you did not come, O Ghazi.

jab chali sheh pe churi aye mere sher e jari hath malti thi behan kuch qadam dur khari kaat gaya sheh ka gala haye bhai ne sada mujh ko har zarb pe di

When the blade was drawn across my sovereign's throat, O my courageous lion, your sister stood a few steps away, wringing her hands helplessly. As the master's neck was cut, every blow struck cried out to me — O brother!

tu na aya ghazi jab rida sar se chini mai sada deti rahi tu na aya ghazi

You did not come, O Ghazi — when my veil was torn from my head I kept calling out to you, but you did not come, O Ghazi.

qaid khane main qaza jab Sakina ko mili de ke kurtay ka kafan bachi dafnaye gaye us ghari naam tera surat e naad e Ali bus main dohrati rahi

When death came for Sakina inside the prison walls, she was buried wrapped in a shroud cut from my own garment. In that moment, your name and the invocation of Naad-e-Ali was all I could do — I kept repeating them, again and again.

tu na aya ghazi jab rida sar se chini mai sada deti rahi tu na aya ghazi

You did not come, O Ghazi — when my veil was torn from my head I kept calling out to you, but you did not come, O Ghazi.

roya rehan kalam kar ke ye baat rakam khoon main doob gaya mera ghazi ka alam zakhmi Zainab ka jigar khoon fishan shah ka sar aye khaymon main shaqi

Let these words be wept and written down, let this account be recorded: my Ghazi's standard was drowned in blood, Zainab's wounded heart, the king's head streaming with blood — and into the tents the wretched oppressor came.

tu na aya ghazi jab rida sar se chini mai sada deti rahi tu na aya ghazi

You did not come, O Ghazi — when my veil was torn from my head I kept calling out to you, but you did not come, O Ghazi.