By Allah, never could I reckon his praise, even were I to draw upon all the means that the paths of eloquence can barely contain.
Upon him be the peace of Allah from me as long as a dove (1) sings upon a bough, its plaintive coo a tuneful lament.

It is complete, comprising fifty-seven lines.

[Another elegy] (2):
O people, turn in repentance to the Most Merciful and implore Him, for a man has passed away—the like of whom no man has equaled.
O people, seek the forgiveness of the All-Merciful, our Creator; the ocean of his knowledge and its surging waves of deeds have now receded.
He transmitted the hadiths of the Ṣaḥīḥ, and through him (3) the rest of the reports of Allah’s messengers were conveyed.
Forbearance, learning, and firm asceticism were his hallmarks; in his discourse there was neither doubt nor slip.
How many an innovation he erased and abolished; how many vile practices committed by others he removed for us.
How often he rose, striving in the cause of Allah’s religion, never once growing weary of that task.
How many fires of evil he quenched while smiling … (4) without fear or dread!
How often he made the truth manifest when its supporters were few, and how many matters he laid bare for them that they had been ignorant of.
How many favors he placed like collars around people’s necks—burdens that neither plain nor mountain could bear.
He was a sweet spring for every seeker: people would drink from it and then depart.