There are personalities whose lives never cease to give. There are like flowing rivers of wisdom, never stagnating, never still, and most importantly, always present and ready to shower your pain with love and warmth.



I take refuge in the depth your space occupies in my heart.

I whisper your name,



struggling to navigate these shoreless oceans.

I am drowing, Mother,

And yet I whisper your name,

For I do not know other than yours,

A name carrying more patience

While believing in Allah.


Whenever alone,

and battling against myself,

I have taken your pain,

as a symbol of hope,

For your pain has always thaught me,

That my strugle is sweet in the mirror of your life,

That my pain is honey in the garden of your devotion,

That my loneliness is a blessing, in the kingdom of your love.


Ya Zahra, words were written on your life. Poems were recited on your fate. Your name itself is enough Mother, to bring peace to my heart and to tear it into pieces at the same time.

Mother, amongst the many verses I have heard in your name, there is one line that has always brought my existence to a sudden end. I whisper this line and I drown, in your love, in your pain:

امشب پرستوی علی از آشیان پر می کشد
داغ فراق فاطمه آخر علی را می کشد

Tonight, the swallow bird of Ali (a.s) has flown away from its nest

The separation with Fatima, has finally taken Ali(‘s life)

They call you ‘Lady without a shrine’. But I swear by your name, you have a shrine in my heart.


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