How many times, in the pitch-black hours of calamity, while people slept until dawn, did he stand vigilant(1).
While all mankind, paralyzed by fear, lay dreaming a sleep that was death itself.
The sons of Persia pounced upon the populace like lions ravaging a grazing herd.
Damascus—once expansive—saw its countryside draw in upon itself.
For Ghazan, the most brutish of brutes, invaded us, and from Persia his rabble hordes descended.
He reduced the mighty among us to humiliation—abject, driven like cattle.
Then the All-Compelling, exalted be His praise, unsheathed him against the enemy like the edge of a honed blade.
Thus he shielded us—by Allah—from every tyrant, not with spear, sword, or arrows(2).
What a champion he proved when every valiant defender of Islam fled: he alone stood guard.
O Ibn Taymiyyah, upon you in particular—and upon all—my greetings and peace.
O scion of nobility, for your sake the verses have wept upon parchment under the pens.
O peerless one in knowledge and forbearance—so near to reach, yet your aspirations soared beyond reach.
O you who are slow to shrink when the crisis is dire, yet swift to rise and press forward.
O you who adorn and clothe every virtue, and stand stripped of every shame and blame(3).
O you who rush to the fore whenever trouble looms, and who spend long hours standing in the depths of night(4).