For the Pleasure of My Lord, The Prisons Come Perfumed

For the Pleasure of My Lord, The Prisons Come Perfumed
Written by Shaykh Abu Muhammad Al-Maqdisi
General Intelligence Prison Facility, Jordan – Cell No. 63

‘Eid Al-Adh’ha 1414 H
(May Allah hasten his release)
At-Tibyan Publications

Dear Brother, who dwells in these prisons

To you I write with distresses,
If to Allah 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 Yunus 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 Yusuf dwelled in them for a phase

And Musa, 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 Imam,
And likewise Ibn Taymiyyah was blessed with it

In the fortress of Sham, 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...