hidaayah
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For the Pleasure of My Lord,
The Prisons Come Perfumed
Written by Shaykh Abū Muhammad Al-Maqdisī
General Intelligence Prison Facility, Jordan – Cell No. 63
‘Eid Al-Adh’hā 1414 H
(May Allāh hasten his release)
At-Tibyān Publications
Dear Brother, who dwells in these prisons
To you I write with distresses,
If to Allāh you hold fast
Then what harm will a misfortune of time do to you?
Beware dear Brother, of making your corrupting your thoughts
Regarding the Promise of the Deity, Mighty and Strong,
Verily, He has promised the Believers with Salvation
As He saved Yūnus from the dark depths of the belly of the Fish,
Dear Brother, before you, passed the ancient ones
These prisons are but like those prisons,
Did not Yūsuf dwelled in them for a phase
And Mūsā, the tyrants threatened him with it,
And such was the Messenger of the Generous Deity
To imprison him, the pagans plotted,
So my Lord saved him through his Hijrah
In the company of that trustworthy friend,
And in their footsteps, the Believers traversed
Like Ahmad, that firm Imām,
And likewise Ibn Taymiyyah was blessed with it
In the fortress of Shām, as a prisoner he dwelled,
Hundreds of thousands of the True Faithful
Dwelled for a time in these prisons,
Be not weak, dear Brother, nor lose hope
When your time comes, nor submit,
Strengthen yourself by remembering the Deity, Most Supreme
And hasten in memorizing the Manifest Book,
That is for your heart a secure stronghold
And this is for your spirit an assisting provision,
These are hardships, soon they will all cease
And remaining from it will be various fruits and benefits,
So if they intimidate you, and they threaten you
Never weaken, or soften to them,
And even if they insult you, and they torture you
And if they beat you, submit not,
You are not the first to be tortured
For a Mighty Religion and a Manifest Legislation,
Nor are you alone on this Path
For there are countless caravans throughout the years,
And if an ‘Eid passes by, and a son is born
And months rotate, while you are imprisoned,
Do not grieve O Brother of the Righteous Ones
Of departing from family and losing children,
And if they forbid you from their visits
And likewise their letters never appear,
So if this is for a Lord and Religion
Then where is the patience, where is the certainty!?
And where are your past speeches
Regarding the (weight of the) Millah of that Trustworthy Messenger?!
That Intimate Friend went willingly
To slaughter his son, a clear trial,
On a magnificent, noble day like today
Without any anxiety, he put him down upon his forehead,
So my Lord saved him through His Good Will
And ransomed him with a fat sheep,
But you, your sons are in a carefree life
And diversion and amusement, and a secured home,
Yet you have not been asked to slaughter them
Rather, merely for patience of a temporary separation,
For verily, they are in the care of a Merciful Lord
And you are in solitude with Him and Faith,
For the Pleasure of a Lord and assisting a Religion
Life and all children become insignificant,
For the Pleasure of a Lord, Mighty and Generous
The prisons come perfumed, and the bitter come sweet..
The Prisons Come Perfumed
Written by Shaykh Abū Muhammad Al-Maqdisī
General Intelligence Prison Facility, Jordan – Cell No. 63
‘Eid Al-Adh’hā 1414 H
(May Allāh hasten his release)
At-Tibyān Publications
Dear Brother, who dwells in these prisons
To you I write with distresses,
If to Allāh you hold fast
Then what harm will a misfortune of time do to you?
Beware dear Brother, of making your corrupting your thoughts
Regarding the Promise of the Deity, Mighty and Strong,
Verily, He has promised the Believers with Salvation
As He saved Yūnus from the dark depths of the belly of the Fish,
Dear Brother, before you, passed the ancient ones
These prisons are but like those prisons,
Did not Yūsuf dwelled in them for a phase
And Mūsā, the tyrants threatened him with it,
And such was the Messenger of the Generous Deity
To imprison him, the pagans plotted,
So my Lord saved him through his Hijrah
In the company of that trustworthy friend,
And in their footsteps, the Believers traversed
Like Ahmad, that firm Imām,
And likewise Ibn Taymiyyah was blessed with it
In the fortress of Shām, as a prisoner he dwelled,
Hundreds of thousands of the True Faithful
Dwelled for a time in these prisons,
Be not weak, dear Brother, nor lose hope
When your time comes, nor submit,
Strengthen yourself by remembering the Deity, Most Supreme
And hasten in memorizing the Manifest Book,
That is for your heart a secure stronghold
And this is for your spirit an assisting provision,
These are hardships, soon they will all cease
And remaining from it will be various fruits and benefits,
So if they intimidate you, and they threaten you
Never weaken, or soften to them,
And even if they insult you, and they torture you
And if they beat you, submit not,
You are not the first to be tortured
For a Mighty Religion and a Manifest Legislation,
Nor are you alone on this Path
For there are countless caravans throughout the years,
And if an ‘Eid passes by, and a son is born
And months rotate, while you are imprisoned,
Do not grieve O Brother of the Righteous Ones
Of departing from family and losing children,
And if they forbid you from their visits
And likewise their letters never appear,
So if this is for a Lord and Religion
Then where is the patience, where is the certainty!?
And where are your past speeches
Regarding the (weight of the) Millah of that Trustworthy Messenger?!
That Intimate Friend went willingly
To slaughter his son, a clear trial,
On a magnificent, noble day like today
Without any anxiety, he put him down upon his forehead,
So my Lord saved him through His Good Will
And ransomed him with a fat sheep,
But you, your sons are in a carefree life
And diversion and amusement, and a secured home,
Yet you have not been asked to slaughter them
Rather, merely for patience of a temporary separation,
For verily, they are in the care of a Merciful Lord
And you are in solitude with Him and Faith,
For the Pleasure of a Lord and assisting a Religion
Life and all children become insignificant,
For the Pleasure of a Lord, Mighty and Generous
The prisons come perfumed, and the bitter come sweet..
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