From the Anshar, the fearless ones,
O, mujaheed al-qalam, his arrows dipped in rhyme,
Bearing honor's blade, his spirit burns,
He pierces hearts, his verses echoed high,
Unnerves his foes, their courage wanes,
A slumbering lion, his roar unseen, yet feared.

By Ruhul Qudus, love sustains,
His poems like prayers, a vibrant sheen,
No verse surpasses what his soul conveys,
Unknown to most, his love's true flame,
Burns for the Prophet, of perfect name.

For beloved Rasulullah, his devotion true,
By the angel's side, a poetry was vowed.

"Ya rukna mu tamiri wa 'ushmata lâidzîn wa malâdza muntajîn wa jâra al-mujawiri"

"O, pillar to whom people lean on, support for those who seek refuge in you, resting place for those who seek salvation, and defender for those who need protection."

A Shair whose words sharp and true,
As Dhulfikar, pierces like the desert sands,
From Yathrib, Hassan Ibn Thabit RA.



© 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑧𝑎𝑤𝑖𝑐𝑐𝑎

"My verses, like scattered dust before a desert gale, in front of the love poems of Hassan Ibn Thabit.
If you ask my pen to ink, it would freeze in shame, yet my tears drip in amazement.
I vow love what he loved."