The advent of Muharram embodies liberation, wisdom, and servitude—the highest devotion to the Lord by the Master of Martyrs, Imam Hussein (peace be upon him). We offer our condolences to all seekers of freedom, love, and devotion.

O pure blood, that bursts forth in streams from the blessed,

Showering honor upon the heights reached by the brave.

Flowing from Karbala, where you emerged,

Blended with the blood of Siyavash in Iran.

You are the crimson star, born to multiply,

Shattering across the mirror of the sun within the hearts of the enlightened.

O essence of command among the beheaded,

Origin of immortality in the lineage of the undying.

Your camp burned in the thoughts of history,

Every time fire was set in the lions’ den.

What a night it was, when the stars witnessed

Your forces in disarray, your camp devastated.

And that day, when carrying the banner of a headless man,

You became the caravan leader of the captives to Damascus.

For the fields of poppies to flourish and bloom,

They must be nourished by your blood, O generous one.

For scribes to preserve even a fraction of the truth,

They must inscribe their words in your blood.

Your elegy is not mere mourning; your commemoration is heroism,

How diminished are your esteem and standing by those who make this a mere ritual…

The advent of Muharram embodies liberation, wisdom, and servitude—the highest devotion to the Lord by the Master of Martyrs, Imam Hussein (peace be upon him). We offer our condolences to all seekers of freedom, love, and devotion.