Do Not Cry For Me Mother

prison-bars-rusty-old

لا تـبكني أمـاه وابـك بلوعة ديـناً جـريحاً ما عليه بــواكيا
Do not cry for me mother, rather cry heavily for a wounded religion no one is crying for

ما كنت يومـا رغم حبسي جاثيا فـلأجل ربـي أسـتطيب عذابيا
Never in spite of my imprisonment did I kneel and for the sake of my Lord I shall enjoy this punishment

أمـاه إن خـط القـضاء منيتي بـدم تحـرر فـاصبري لمصـابيا
O Mother, if my death has been decreed then be patient for my tribulation

لله قـد قدمت روحـي راغبـا ثـمنـا ليبقى أصـل ديـني عاليا
I have willfully given my soul to Allah. a small price to pay for my religion to remain high

وقحـمت أسـباب المنايا حاملا بيـدي لنـصرة دعـوتي أكفـانيا
I crossed the pathway of death, carrying in my hands my Shroud hoping to bring victory to my Religion

فالمـوت لا يـريع نفسـاً حرةً قهـرت خطوباً قـد عصفن عواتيا
For Death does not scare a free soul, which has overcome trials coming forth as violent winds

والقيد ليس بمـوهن لي هـمتي والسجن ليـس بمحبطٍ آمــاليا
Handcuffs will not lower my determination, neither will this prison lower my hopes

يا أمّ لا تبـكي لحبسي دمعـةً وابكي لـدينٍ ما علـيه بواكيـا
Mother, do not shed tears for my captivity, and weep instead for this Religion which no one is weeping for

فالسجن خير من حيـاة مذلـةٍ وأنا لـربي قـد نذرت حياتيـا
For Prison is better than a life of disgrace. and for my Lord I’ve vowed my life

أنا لست أركعُ رغبةً في لقمـةٍ أو أشتكي سـوطاً يُعربد عاتيـا
I am not one to bow down for a loaf [of bread], or one to complain of the whip tearing my shoulders

فالسجن ليس بضائري إن ضمّني والقيد ليـس معجـلاً أكفانيـا
For Prison is not going to harm me when it embraces me, and these chains will not bring my death any sooner

والسجن ليس بحابسٍ لي دعـوتي والقيد ليـس بمطفـئ أنواريـا
This prison is not going to hold back my Message, and these shackles are not going to dim my Lights

أنا هـاهنا حر برغم سلاسـلي ورنينها يشـجي ربوع فؤاديـا
I am here free in spite of my chains, and its sounds bring life to my heart

أنا هـاهنـا عزّي هنا حريـتي فالعز قيدي والشموخ جراحيـا
Over here I find my dignity, over here I find my freedom; Dignity [can be seen] in my shackles, and determination     [can be seen] in my wounds

سأقول للسجن الذي قد ضمني اشدد قيودك لا تفـك وثاقيـا
I will tell this prison which has embraced me, tighten your bonds, and do not let untie my chains

أنا هـاهنا حـر ودون قيودنـا شـعبٌ يُطأطئ للخيانة جاثيـا
I am here free, and away from these chains is a nation, which has lowered its head kneeling for Treachery

يا سجن إنّي قد عشقتُ سلاسلي هذي السلاسل والقيود سلاحيا
O Prison, I have fallen in love with these chains, these chains and bonds are my weapons [and source of strength]

يا سـجن إنـّي قد ألفتُ زنازني هـذي الزنازن والظلامُ ردائيـا
O Prison, I have gotten used to this jail cell, this cell and its darkness are my cover and clothing

أنا في قيودك شامـخٌ في عـزتي والحرُ يخنع خلف سورك راضيـا
I am in your chains steadfast with my dignity, and those “free” outside your walls are happy in their disgrace

قد حددوا عيشي على قضبانـهم وبظـلِ قيدك مولدي ووفاتيـا
They restricted my life between these bars, and within the shadows of these chains is by birth and death

وعلى جدارك قد خططت ملاحمي حفراً بظفري والـمداد دمائيـا
On your walls I have recorded my struggles, with my nails I carved it, and my blood I used as ink

بدمي خططت براءتي من كفرهم ولأجل ذا ضـاقت عليّ بلاديـا
With my blood I have written my dissociation from their Disbelief, and for that reason my own country have narrowed and closed in on me

يا أمّ مـالك تذرفـين الدمع لا لا تفعلي أفديـك أمـاً حانيـة
O Mother, do not shed these tears over me, don’t, May I be scarified for you, what a kind loving mother you are

يا أمّ لا تبكـي لقيدي واصبري فالفجـر يشرق عن قريبٍ آتيـا
O Mother do not cry because of my shackles, and be patient, since Dawn will soon come bringing forth its light

والكفر مندحـرٌ بإثْر جيوشهم والنور من ديني يُشـعشع زاهيـا
Disbelief will soon disintegrate with its armies, and the light from my Religion [will remain] brightly shining

والحـقّ منتصرٌ برغم سجونـهم والقيد منكسـرٌ وديـني عاليـا
And the Truth will prevail in spite of their jails, and the cuffs would soon break, and my Religion will remain high

أبو محمد المقدسي – رمضان 1417- سجن سواقة في الاردن
Abu Muhammad al-Maqdisi, Ramadaan 1417, Swaqa Prison, Jordan

The Soul Cries Over This World While Happiness Is In Leaving It

End_of_Journey_by_ahermin
النفسُ تبكي على الدنيا وقد علمت
The Soul Cries over this world and yet acknowledges,
أن السعادة فيها ترك ما فيــها
that the happiness within it is to abandon what is within it.
لا دارٌ للمرءِ بعد الموت يسكُنها
There is no house for the individual to live in after death,
إلا التي كانَ قبـل الموتِ بانيـها
except for the one that he built before his death.
فإن بناها بخير طاب مسكنُه
And if he built it with goodness, pleasing his settlement will become,
وإن بناها بشر خـــــــاب بانيـــها
And if he built it with evil, dissapointed its builder will be.
أموالنا لذوي الميراث نجمعُها
Our money for our heirs we collect it,
ودورنا لخراب الدهـــر نبنـيــها
and our homes for the corruption of time we build it.
أين الملوك التي كانت مسلطنةً
Where are the kings that were proudly dictating?
حتى سقاها بكأس الموت ساقيــــها
Till the pourer of death poured death upon them.
فكم مدائنٍ في الآفاق قد بنيت
And how many cities were built upon the horizon?
أمست خرابا وأفنى الموتُ أهليـــها
Which eventually became devastated while its citizens tasted death.
لا تركِنَنَّ إلى الدنيا وما فيها
Don’t submit to this world and what’s within it,
فالموت لا شـــك يُفنينا ويُفنيــها
for surely, without a doubt, death will end us and end it
لكل نفس وان كانت على وجلٍ
For every soul, even if it was powerful,
من المَنِيَّةِ آمــــــالٌ تقويـــــــها
had hopes that were overcome by death.
المرء يبسطها والدهر يقبضُها
The individual entertains it [the soul] while time kills it,
والنفس تنشرها والموت يطويـــــها
And the individual opens it, while death puts an end to it.
إنما المكارم أخلاقٌ مطهرةٌ
Surely the perfection of morals is pure,
الدين أولها والعقـــــــل ثانيـــها
Religion is its first, intellect is its second,
والعلم ثالثها والحلم رابعها
And knowledge is its third, and tolerance is its fourth,
والجود خامسها والفضل سادســــها
And generous is its fifth, and graciousness is its sixth,
والبر سابعها والشكر ثامنها
And activity serving the people is its seventh, and thankfulness is its eighth,
والصبر تاسعها واللين باقيـــــها
And patience is its ninth, and gentleness is its preserver,
والنفس تعلم أنى لا أصادقها
And the Soul knows that I do not befriend it,
ولست ارشدُ إلا حين اعصيـــــــــــها
And I won’t take the wise step to disobey it,
واعمل لدار ٍغداً رضوانُ خازنها
And I work for tomorrow [Hereafter] to the satisfaction of its ower,
والجار احمد والرحمن ناشيـــــها
And the neighbour is Ahmed [saaw] [in heaven] and the Merciful [SWT] is its Creator.
قصورها ذهب والمسك طينتها
Its palaces are golden, and its heavenly perfume is its mud,
والزعفران حشيشٌ نابتٌ فيــــــــــها
And the saffron is its lushed grasses, graffitied upon it.
أنهارها لبنٌ محضٌ ومن عسل
Its rivers are yoghurt, purified and of honey,
والخمر يجري رحيقاً في مجاريـــــــها
And heavenly wine flows, of sweet nectar, in its canals.
والطير تجري على الأغصان عاكفةً
And the birds fly between their branches,
تسبحُ الله جهراً في مغانيـــــــها
praising Allah [SWT] loudly in their songs
من يشتري الدار في الفردوس يعمرها
And whoever wants to own a home here he should build it,
بركعةٍ في ظلام الليل يحييـها
with a sincere prayer in the darkness of the night.
Ali Bin Abi Talib [R.A]
Photographer; Ahermin

Poem Which Made Imam Ahmed Cry

Solitude by karfozy
A man once came to Imam Ahmad bin Hanbal and asked him; O Imam, what is your opinion on poetry? He replied; Which poetry is this? to which the man responded by reciting the following couplets:
إذا ما قال لي ربي اما استحييت تعصيني
If my Lord asks me, “Have you (any) shyness in disobeying me?
وتخفي الذنب عن خلقي وبالعصيان تأتيني 
You conceal your sins from my creation – and with sins you come to me.”
فكيف أجيبُ يا ويحي ومن ذا سوف يحميني؟
So how will I answer? O woe to me – and who shall protect me?
أسُلي النفس بالآمالِ من حينٍ الى حيني 
I keep averting my soul with thoughts of hope – from time to time.
وأنسى ما وراءُ الموت ماذا بعد تكفيني 
And I forget what is to come after death – and what is to come after I am shrouded.
كأني قد ضّمنتُ العيش ليس الموت يأتيني
As if I am guaranteed life (eternally) – and that death will not come to me.
وجائت سكرة الموتُ الشديدة من سيحميني 
And when the severe stupor of death overtakes me – who will protect me?
نظرتُ الى الوُجوهِ أليـس منُهم من سيفدينـــي
I looked at the faces; is there not from amongst them who will ransom me?
سأسأل ما الذي قدمت في دنياي ينجيني 
I will be asked regarding what I have prepared in my life to save me (on the Day of Judgement).
فكيف إجابتي من بعد ما فرطت في ديني 
Then how will I answer – after I have neglected my religion.
ويا ويحي ألــــم أسمع كلام الله يدعوني 
Woe to me! Did I not hear the Speech of Allāh inviting me?
ألــــم أسمع لما قد جاء في قاف ويسِ 
Did I not hear what came in (the chapters of) Qāf and Yā-Sīn?
ألـــم أسمع بيوم الحشر يوم الجمع و الديني 
Did I not hear about the Day of Gathering, the Day of Assemble and the Day of Judgement?
ألـــم أسمع مُنادي الموت يدعوني يناديني 
Did I not hear the crier of death inviting me, calling me?
فيا ربــــاه عبدُ تــائبُ من ذا سيؤويني
So O my Lord, a slave (turning to you) I have repented – so who then shall shelter me?
سوى رب غفور واسعُ للحقِ يهديني 
Except a Lord extensive in forgiveness – to the truth He will guide me.
أتيتُ إليكَ فارحمني وثقــّـل في موازيني
I have come to you (in repentance) – so have mercy on me, and make heavy my scales (with good deeds).
وخفَفَ في جزائي أنتَ أرجـى من يجازيني 
And lighten my account – You are the best of who will bring me to account.
Imam Ahmad took these lines and repeated them over and over again, and wept profusely to such an extent that one his students said that he almost perished due to him crying so much.
Photographer; Karfozy

When Hearts Decay

Victims
Our hearts decayed like dead,
While knowledge on fiction and fantasy.
Eyes shown a curtained show,
A vision of what’s fed.
Bombs drop like rain,
leaving blood instead of water.
Armored in their fortress,
playing the game of slaughter.
Greed is a curse,
what a curse!
It knows no innocent or weak,
or has feelings or pays heed.
What would satisfy the thirst?
If not death of women and children.
How come we became animals,
and animals became us.
Rotting like rats, feeding on each other.
Fahed Tarmoom

And Be Not Deceived

A poet said:
Do you not see how the two ever-­renewables [night and day]
Wear us out, while we jest in secret and in public?
Trust not this world and its pleasures
For its homes are not real homes
And work for your benefit before your death
And be not deceived by the abundance of friends and brothers

The Blanket Of Bliss

This Dunya…
Is nothing but a blanket of Bliss.
Who took it as their abode,
Surely are the ones lost.
Deception of evil,
Transformed them into puppets.
What’s to it but a moment,
Traded for immortality of joy.
Where the purpose is to worship,
Failed are many.
Creation we are,
To our Creator we’ll return…
 
-Fahed Tarmoom

“O You who seeks the hand of the dunya!”

A Poet Once said:
O you who seeks the hand of the dunya in marriage! Know that she has a new lover everyday;
She takes a husband now, yet gives herself at the same time to an other elsewhere;
She only accepts lovers so that she may kill them in her bosom one by one;
I have been fooled and the affliction is spreading in my body little by little;
Ready yourself and take provisions for death, for the herald has called: ‘tis time to leave, ‘tis time to leave!