The Soul Weeps for This World Knowing
Ali ibn Abi Talib stated, “The soul weeps for this world, fully aware that
True safety lies in abandoning it.”
There is no dwelling for a person after death where one can reside,
Except for that which was built before death came.
If it was built with goodness, then its abode is pleasing,
But if it was built with wickedness, then its builder shall fail.
Where are the kings who once held sovereignty,
Until the cup of death was served to them?
Our wealth is gathered for those who inherit it,
While our homes are constructed for the decay of time.
How many cities have been built across the horizons,
Only to become ruins as death drew near?
For every soul, even if it is trembling,
There are hopes that strengthen it against death.
People extend their ambitions, while time constrains them,
And the soul unfolds them, while death constricts them.
If Death Approaches Me
Abu al-Ala al-Maari expressed:
If death draws near to me,
I would not reject its closeness.
Such is the fortress that comforts the grave,
For those who face it feel no dread, nor fear its torment.
As if I am the lord of camels,
Practicing my craft within the desolate lands.
If I was returned to prayer,
I would be buried in the worst of soils.
Time has not passed, except
That age settles into my life.
Everyone fears their demise,
Yet none can avoid its inevitability.
And the sword, poised above,
Will strike at the first chance.
For the anguish of dying in bed,
Is harder than a thousand blows.
Our innate nature battles within,
Fighting a conflict it cannot resist.
O dweller of the grave, recognize
The final moments of my existence.
Do not withhold, for I have no way,
To escape this path.
Time flows among people like a recurrent wave,
Or like a transient traveler who seeks refuge.
Neither does a herd conceal the plight,
Nor is there an abode to hide the truth.
I do not believe in the fatality,
That walks among the wandering stars.
It will take those who are careless, secure,
And those caught unawares.
So it searches for every soul,
In the East and the West of existence.
And it visits us without kindness,
Whether we are Arabs or non-Arabs.
Not a glimpse of life,
Shall escape its grasp.
It strives for the one who has become free,
And thus, takes what it can.
Whoever aims for me will not find me,
For death is an omnipresent truth.
Once it appeared, we marveled at
The transitory nature of lives lived.
When I reflect for a moment,
I count it as proximity.
And I possess nothing but the dawn’s light.
Death is Inevitable
Abu Al-Attahiyah asserted:
Nothing can repel death, neither realms nor guards,
What opposes the call of death? Neither jinn nor mankind.
When death calls, even those with status and wealth,
Are seized by the grip of fate.
For death awaits all tribes equally,
And decay will claim all that they have built and harvested.
Shall I not hasten towards death in good time?
Why do I not prepare while I have breath?
O fear-ridden soul, should you remain scared,
Your tears will flow endlessly.
Does not the thought of a day with no escape engulf you,
When you plunge into the depths of death?
Beware, beware of this world and its pleasures,
For death lurks within, predatory in nature.
If people strive to prevent this death from coming,
In the end, death is an unavoidable reality.
I observe the children of this world at war,
As if life were but a feast for them.
When I describe their world, they laugh,
And when I speak of the hereafter, they frown.
Why do I see the children of this world and their kin,
As they neglect the divine words of God?
If Death is Inevitable
Abu Al-Attahiyah iterated:
If death is indeed unavoidable, then why should I trouble myself,
Or burden myself with aspects that provoke worry?
Nothing enriches a person like contentment,
Nor fills the eye of the distracted.
Whoever diverges from their intended path,
Cannot trust their destiny far from temptation,
Enticing towards oppression, conflict, and wastefulness.
Not every opinion leads to sound judgment,
So when a confusing thought comes to you, pause.
O my dear friend, when storms do not settle,
It is merely a sign of decline and loss.
How near is this moment to the one living in luxury,
Yet their soul remains insatiable for achievements?
How many cherished and esteemed individuals lie in graves,
Clothed in the earth’s dust?
O Allah, they were the dwellers of mausoleums and chambers,
Whom I once fondly knew.
O you who are honored by this world and its adornments,
What remains for a man without the piety of the Merciful?
Goodness and evil exist as a measure between them,
Should they present themselves to you, in stark contrast.
O my dear friend, strive as you can,
And do not let the transient companionship of life mislead you.
Whatever a person has achieved from external gain,
Will soon be overshadowed by loss.
And Allah will suffice you if you seek refuge in Him,
For whom Allah diverts evil, they shall be secure.
All thanks be to Allah, and I express my gratitude,
For there is nothing more cherished than gentleness and kindness.
The Call of Death
Badr Shakir al-Sayyab proclaimed:
They stretch their necks from thousands of graves, calling to me,
“Come forth.”
A call that rends the veins, shakes the bones, scattering my heart as ash.
Here, in this sunset, a torch burns in the shadows;
Come, let me ignite it until it fades.
My ancestors, my forebears, like a mirage, sway
Along the edge of my eyelids.
And within me flares an ember of life’s blaze, yearning for the impossible.
The winds call for my father, “O secret keeper, for I walk this path, seeking
The dawn.”
And from the grave, my mother calls, “Hold me close, for the chill of fate courses through my veins.
Warm my bones with the warmth of your arms and your chest, and tend to
The wounds.
Cure my maladies with your heart or your eyes, and ensure
Do not stray from my path.
Nothing calls except death, which echoes
In the ebbing twilight of an autumn sunset.
And the night persists after the flashes fade,
The dead linger, more lasting than all that life offers.
So, O grave, open your arms wide;
I come in silence, without a lament.
Build for Death and Construct for Ruin
Abu Al-Attahiyah reminded:
Build for death, and construct for decay,
For each of you shall return to dust.
For whom do we build, as we descend to the soil,
From which we were created?
O death, from you, I see no escape,
So do not be unjust nor favor.
It seems as though you have besieged my old age,
As old age has besieged my youth.
And why, O world, do I find no shelter,
Except that which has fled from me?
Indeed, I see you offering wealth of life,
Yet hastening to strip me bare.
And indeed, O time, you are capricious,
And you are surely turbulent.
Why do I not extract from you a portion,
That I might acknowledge the result of the extraction?
How Many Healthy Ones Have Sought Safety in Death
Sabiq Al-Barbari expressed:
How many a healthy person has laid down without fear of death,
Yet was seized by fate unexpectedly upon resting!
He could not flee when death arrived with suddenness,
Nor evade it with tactics devised.
For death does not spare the wealthy from their riches,
Nor does it allow the impoverished, without need, to be overlooked.
Death Provides No Refuge or Escape
Mohammed ibn Uthaymeen articulated:
Death provides no refuge or escape;
When the soul departs its resting bed, it finds no solace.
We hope for dreams, wishing for outcomes,
Yet mortality is nearer than our aspirations.
We build grand palaces in the sky,
Yet deep down we know we will die, and they will crumble.
Without a Doubt, Death Approaches
Without a doubt, death approaches; prepare for it,
The wise are preoccupied with the remembrance of death.
How can one indulge in life, or find joy within it,
When they know they are made of dust?
Death is the Timeline for Humanity
Prepare what you must for that which is inevitable.
For death marks the timeline for humanity.
Repent for what you have done while still alive,
And remain vigilant before you sleep.
You shall regret departing without ample provisions,
And you will find anguish when the call comes.
Are you content to accompany a group,
While they have provisions, and you are empty-handed?