Hark back to Karbala,

to the grave of the Habib,

into Bayn al-Haramayn,

wearing your heart on your sleeve.

Hark back to Karbala,

to the grave of the Habib,

into Bayn al-Haramayn,

wearing your heart on your sleeve.

Give me the strength to walk towards you sincere,

don't let my two feet succumb to despair.

Grant me permission in the end to find you,

to stand in your court and breathe your air.

Sultan of the Jinn and man,

Sultan, equal to the Quran.

This whole world is but your kingdom,

Sultan of every Sultan.

Beautiful is your name,

soother of every pain,

leader of every saint,

remover of every ail.

Onto your ship we boarded,

our flag is the sail.

Like the ship of Nuh,

whoever boarded it prevailed.

Hark back to Karbala,

to the grave of the Habib,

into Bayn al-Haramayn,

wearing your heart on your sleeve.

Now is the time to shed your every burden.

Replace every doubt with every certain.

Light of guidance, ark of salvation.

Every heart came in the state of yearning.

Grant us some of your wisdom.

Let us enter your kingdom.

Free us, what is the ransom?

Take us to you as servants.

Every step that you take, your sins are all forgiven.

They say walk into hell in order to reach heaven,

but the road from Najaf into Bayn al-Haramayn

is from heaven, through heaven, and into heaven.

Karbala, to the grave of the Habib,

into Bayn al-Haramayn,

wearing your heart on your sleeve.

You held our hands at every station.

We gave up but you taught us what is patience.

You whispered in our ears, "Remember Zainab."

How she was made to walk without protection.

Zainab was your flag bearer.

No one dared to go near her.

Shimr now was her captor, the queen.

Now is a stranger.

But she held up her head,

defeated them with her words.

Only God knows if she could, she would have raised her sword.

With a single prayer, she could have ended the world.

For the death of the grandson of the best of all the worlds.