You descended upon the dwellers of the graves as a mercy, rescuing them from the darkness of oppression and the anguish of thirst. (1)
May the wasmi rain—those gentle early-season showers—water your grave at every dawn; clouds of the Lord’s good pleasure have thereby adorned the meadow. (2)
May white chamomile hover over it in smiling bloom, and may the garden within raise up a star, then a host of stars in its sky.

Completed—and all praise belongs to Allah, Lord of the worlds.

In the name of Allah, the Most Compassionate, the Most Merciful.
An elegy for Shaykh al-Islam, the godly scholar Aḥmad ibn Taymiyyah al-Ḥarrānī, composed by Shaykh Shams al-Dīn al-Ḥanbalī, one of the righteous folk of al-Ṣāliḥiyyah, born around the year 701 AH at the foot of Mount Qāsiyūn:

A momentous calamity has overtaken us—vast, terrifying, immense; all consolation is powerless against it, and eyes have grown white with weeping.
Time has clenched shut, leaving no patience and no endurance; it struck, and the nights’ turns came rushing on in hurried succession.
The crisis keeps swelling (3); thoughts are bewildered, and horrors and dread have closed in on every side.
It is as though the sun in heaven were eclipsed, its light torn from it and utterly severed.
The very sky wears funeral garb, night-like in appearance, as though the wings of darkness had been let down over the evening. (4)
My tears, O Saʿd, have mingled with my blood, as though a fire were blazing within my heart.
I pass each evening and morning crushed by sorrows, and my grief will endure for as long as time itself lasts. (5)