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Prophet Jesus (A.S.), the Son of Mary (A.S.)

By: Dr. Hasan Najafi
See he is born, no matter how,
The loud trump must wake us now.
Behold in the cradle he appears,
Nor widows sigh, nor orphans shed tears.
A noontide beam is born
An ever fresh a laughing morn.
Amazement and delight is combined,
At your birth, sorrow fades and faints gloom behind.
We congratulate our Christian friends,
His birth is holy and sacred to us.
In honors glorified is his day
Let whatever the enemies say.
At his breath like bubbles, raise kings,
At his curse go vanished the things.
His mother Mary ever glitters her blaze,
Even the adversaries must speak her praise.
Whatever floats upon the tide of state?
At his wish, gets mended the fate.
Mary, his mother, an Eternal Virgin;
To think otherwise shall be a sin.
At her miracle comes true every odd,
She revered among angels and dear to God.
She ready to forgive any crime
If repentance there go blest the clime.
Jesus his name, he the Prophet;
To him showers the Qur’an regard and respect.
To all who believe his name is a shrine,
Call him and your wishes he will design.
He is the Truth, full and complete
Towards the belief in God, he is the heat.
No wonder if the dead he made alive
He is the Spirit of God, the souls to him strive.
Jesus still can be seen,
Lift the veil of doubt in between.
Jesus was raised to the fourth sky,
He is still alive but haggard is human eye.
Jews in his time with him never allied,
Over their wounds and wrecks, he took to guide.
Like the circle bounding earth and skies
From far allures his name, behind it every thing flies.
Your lesson is yet to be learnt to be secure
Your followers are away from you obscure.
There is hope in this bullet’s storm,
How wondrous raises your perfect form.
With many, a rude repeated stroke
To thousand fragments your cradle they broke.
The weeping Palestine offends your ears
Draws you sad and draws your tears.
Only stones remain to her aid
In her lap corpses of her sons are laid.
How lonely your birthplace has gone, Jesus!
O Virgin-born! This land let the martyred cradle bless.
Always loaded are your hands
To bestow good mankind needy stands.
Your presence amidst us we feel
On all human hearts, imprint your seal.

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