By Imām Najm al-Din Ishāq ibn Almā al-Turkī (1), written in reply to Ṣadr al-Din Ibn al-Wakīl, who had lampooned Shaykh al-Islam Aḥmad Ibn Taymiyyah and claimed that when the shaykh left Damascus during his first ordeal the sky began to rain:
-
Who will convey from me to that foul fellow a word
whose tempered edge will snap his back like a sword? -
Do you allege that when the Imām departed only a drizzle fell?
You lie—rather, the very heavens wept at his absence. -
Do you not see the forenoon sun in mourning attire,
the whole expanse of heaven clad in black for his remoteness? -
He shall most certainly enter the land of Egypt in safety (2),
enfolded in a calm that comes to him from on high. -
And he shall surely return to Damascus upheld in triumph—
just as a keen blade finds its way back to its sheath. -
You will behold with your own eyes an elevation that grieves you:
time may perish, yet his glory will never be exhausted. -
In your folly you have tried to imitate him—
but how do the foxes of the waste compare with its lions? -
The hands of time have churned the two of you;
you turned out the drifting scum, while he was the pure cream. -
Hide your faults—caravans have spread their tale
through every valley’s depth and every upland height. -
It is reproach enough that you have taken arms
against the intimate friend and servant of the Lord of all worlds.
Completed; the poem consists of ten verses.