You were a marvel in your age, an astonishing wonder; whenever you taught, even the keenest intellect stood dazed.

And the day you departed was itself a day of wonders (1): people bore the bier upon their very heads,

while the throngs, pressed so tightly, could scarcely find their way; countless tears streamed down in torrents.

O mercy that descended to the earth and spread over all who have been laid in its soil!

May the morning showers water your resting-place with their fragrant downpour, so that, beneath the mantle of divine good pleasure (2), your grave remains ever green.

Just as you have been granted a station in the Abode of Eternity, which you have now entered, adorned with jewels and garments of honor,

your crown is light and your sandals are of gold—so, it is reported, conveyed by the youth of Shayban (3).

Say to the one who rejoiced at the Imam’s death: your ignorance alone should suffice for you, O you whom idle hope has deluded!

Do you not know that death has spared neither the kings of this world nor the messengers?

Where now are the kings and the sons of kings? The vicissitudes of time assailed them and they departed.

Before long you will see the world itself depart; provinces and dominions will avail nothing then.

On the Day of Meeting, a wrongdoer’s regret will be of no use, when sins and slips weigh heavy upon his back.

Only the God-fearing may hope for deliverance, for he lives in wary awe of his Lord.

He never ceased striving to uphold the religion; and when night’s darkness fell, he would retreat in earnest supplication.

Say to those who recorded his faults (4) and labored against him: what they managed to learn is but a fraction of what they ignored.