The mother of martyrs
Born of Mustafa
The love of Murtadha
Beloved Zahra
The sweetness of her voice
That whispered Ali
They left her with no choice
In exile she’d be
The purest believer
Oh lady of light
The mother of martyrs
So painful your plight
The mother of martyrs
Born of Mustafa
The love of Murtadha
Beloved Zahra
The garden was left then
No hand for to tend
No flower bloom there in
For Zahra the end
The essence of piety
Still borne on the breeze
For the sake of dear Zahra
Men weep on their knees
The mother of martyrs
Born of Mustafa
The love of Murtadha
Beloved Zahra
The tears that we shed now
For sweet Fatima
They flow like deep rivers
Perfumed by Zahra
Yet lonely she lies now
Abandoned by time
Tyrants still oppress her
Repeat this foul crime
The mother of martyrs
Born of Mustafa
The love of Murtadha
Beloved Zahra
The darkness of death would
Be spared for Zahra
The prison of this world
Forsaken by her
So many long years since
She left her dear sons
She left her dear Ali
The bravest of ones
The mother of martyrs
Born of Mustafa
The love of Murtadha
Beloved Zahra
Come look at this sad place
I beg you come see
Come gaze at the dust here
At lonely Baqi
Can you see the graves
And the love for Rasool
They treat his sweet daughter
So callous and cruel
The mother of martyrs
Born of Mustafa
The love of Murtadha
Beloved Zahra
While the lowest of the low
Lay rested in shrines
The highest of women
Betrayed for all time
The plight of sweet Zahra
Seems never to end
Her suffering continues
Our faith never ends
The mother of martyrs
Born of Mustafa
The love of Murtadha
Beloved Zahra
We call out to Zahra
Please come to our aid
Destroy all corruption
The tyrants have made
In our hearts the intention
To visit your land
To kiss the soil round you
To hold in our hands
The mother of martyrs
Born of Mustafa
The love of Murtadha
Beloved Zahra
Our tears run with blood for
Hasan and Hussain
Our hearts bleed the perfume
Of Ashuras flame
Oh now my beloved
Sweet sister of mine
Your fragrance of mourning
Adorns your sweet shrine
The mother of martyrs
Born of Mustafa
The love of Murtadha
Beloved Zahra
Your resting place I see
Tis golden and fine
Tis rich with pure jewels
Acquired through time
The floor and the ceiling
Of silver and gold
Adorned by the martyrs
And all saints of old
The mother of martyrs
Born of Mustafa
The love of Murtadha
Beloved Zahra
Yet how I hear asked of me
Can this be the way
I’ll tell you now brethren
Hear well what I say
The diamonds are Ali
The rubies Hussain
The emeralds are Hasan
The gold is Khomein
The seal of you coffin
Is mustafas word
The purest of Allah
For all of the worlds
Your grandson bares witness
Alone there he weeps
He mourns for his ummah
So blinded by sleep
If you see this vision
Then rise in His name
The wait it has ended
Your victory’s to claim
The mother of martyrs
Born of Mustafa
The love of Murtadha
Beloved Zahra
