The tribe of Ad, lived in a
beautiful, flourishing land
Granted by God, blessed
with rich grains and sand.
When Hud, came to show, who
was the creator of this beauty,
They rejected his words, and
attacked the Prophet for his duty.
Flourished never again their
once beautiful, healthy land
Prevented was rain, a wrath
was sent by God’s command.
Hud himself, worked in
agricultural and in the fields
And even from his own crops,
rain for many years was shield.
In desperation, his nation begged
him to pray to his Lord again
To allow rain fall over their lands,
and success to once more, obtain.
Accepted was the prayer to God by Prophet Hud,
Who was their giver, the nation finally understood.
For the mischiefs, upon them wraths still stood
Upon calamities, the believers, still stayed Good.
I wonder how foolish
were Hud’s lost nation,
decline from submission.
When the giver of blessings, wants
us to learn, why is he so, very kind
To obey him, for our benefit, not
his, protection for the soul, we find.
From this selfish world, which stains
my good, I can happily turn away
For the giver of everything, if I submit,
will protect me every single day.
When due to his nation, Hud
faced the very same adversity
He never left God, his obedience,
showed this faith’s, clarity.