Though his body now lies concealed in the earth,
his fragrance still wafts abroad like the scent of arar-wood [1].

He was the axis, the scholar, the Imām—
a shaykh unrivalled in glory [2].

A comforter of orphans, kindly and merciful;
his learning cast its light over every land.

Since he departed I have found no ally
against the blows of time save the tears in my eyes.

My days, for want of him, are as dark as my nights,
after nights in his company that were bright as day.

O Ibn Taymiyyah, unique one of the age,
master, a stranger in foreign climes!

You were a cave, a refuge for the fearful from misguidance,
a powerful champion of the truth [3].

If, after you, I call upon both weeping and patience,
weeping responds, while patience turns away.

Should my hope of reunion be severed,
my sorrow will endure for the span of ages.

Beloved of the God-fearing, their Imām—
meet now what the Concealer has promised you:

“Forgiver of sin, Accepter of repentance, Lord of bounty,
Almighty, Guardian, Ever-Forgiving.”

Upon your pure soul I send—
O my longing and the goal of my desire—

unending greetings and peace
so long as the stars of dawn continue to shine.

Completed, and praise belongs to Allah alone.