1. The loss grieved me, had I prolonged my weeping,
And the misfortunes pained me, had they ripped my intestines,

2. To those blaming me for my agony, grief,
And anguish, repentance, and evil,

3. My eyesight, hearing, heart and brain,
They all left, after my solace was robbed,

4. This is the great news in the three lands,
Qalhat, Al-Ghubra, and Al-Khadra,

5. None were spared in them except for mourners and their tribes,
Beyond those who paid their last respects to the Red,

6. The earth quakes, and the notables’ duties were disrupted,
And every sky folded over it,

7. As if Israfil started, hastening,
To blow the horn that ends all life,

8. There is no heart except tossed in agonizing pain,
No eyelid except that it cried blood,

9. As if the angels of the Highest Heavens,
Stood mourning over it in throngs of grievers,

10. O breach that befell with no mending it,
Like the arrogance of limbs over other limbs,

11. Whoever’s joy was that merits and piety,
And knowledge disappear from the harm of riffraff,

12. Then let him delight, for this is how its disappearance was,
Below the soil from a state and wealth,

13. Wondrous is the length of the three cubits,
A grave whose width is a cubit in pebbles,

14. It contained piety, knowledge, erudition and wisdom,
And noble deeds, essence of the highborn,

15. O spot that combined Ahmed’s merits,
Beyond all other spots in existence,

16. To you belongs the pride over places like it,
Among non-Arabs and pure-blooded Arabs,

17. It was the egg of Islam, no, it was the serpent of the valley,
And the polestar of the scholars’ throng,

18. It became eve and morn in the tomb, unaware,
Of what befell us in morn and eve,

19. Guidance was in Oman, then after him, it became,
In the darkness of ignorance,

20. And through him, despite the enemies,
Mascat shone like the Ghadira oasis,

21. Sulaba with its beauty and merits,
Strutting in a cloak of silk,

22. Since he was its protector with the cloak of prohibition,
And its beauty with its graceful merits,

23. Until he passed away grievously, and now it has become,
Like worn out rags, covered in dust,

24. Crying and shouting loudly for its loss,
And saying: Oh woe is me, alas my protector!

25. None can defend me, and none has decency,
After Ahmed, who concealed my flaws,

26. Oh Ahmed, O Ibn Midad's solace,
Can you hear if I call out my plea?

27. Or are you grieving for one who cried sorrowfully,
And agonized over you in desolation?

28. I cry over you, and before me the High Heavens cried,
And noble deeds with tearing and lamentation,

29. And books crying over you, for they,
Were pained by your loss, greatest of pains,

30. As if after you they were orphaned,
Following the sigh, sewing the bereaved,

31. As if from prolonged despair for losing you,
They lost in you all competent peers,

32. And the pulpit cried over you, for it is most deserving,
To cry over you in seclusion and openness,

33. And mosques, prayer niches, schools and higher seminaries cried,
And grants of the Benefactor,

34. And delegations whose night you spent,
Racing the mounts in a dark night,

35. O Kaaba of visitors, no, O direction of worshippers,
No, O granary of the eloquent,

36. Who can we follow for our faith,
And every method of praise?

37. Who can solve problems if they confound,
Or drive away the rigid tribulation?

38. Who can we ask after your death,
About the principles of religion in God's Oneness,

39. Or about secondary rulings and their principles,
Or ruling principles and their origins?

40. In religious edicts, below you were Hashim,
And Abu Muhajir, or Abu Shu'atha,

41. So if asked about issues, you had no,
Perplexity in answering them,

42. You issued edicts about the Creator and His Gabriel,
And the Prophet and his prominent companions,

43. As if you witnessed the revelation,
When news was revealed from the Heavens,

44. You were the beloved of every petitioner, and every,
Hopeful desirous of generous affection,

45. The gardens of Paradise call you, and your dwelling,
Where you settled in the Abode of Eternity,

46. And you will intercede on Judgement Day,
Since you were the best substitutes when alive,

47. If lasting were through good deeds for their doer,
You would have lasted for all time,

48. But the Master chose lasting for Himself,
And all people were created to perish,

49. If man knew the value of his worth,
The Master would not pride over the owned,

50. That strayed in its course from it to barrenness,
It did not settle in shade except for as long as,

51. It fulfilled its purpose from offerings,
Curse upon he who takes pride in it,

52. And hopes for wishes and desires from it,
In it, luxury with its misery is disturbed,

53. And relaxation certainly alternates with misery,
It only bestows then steals, and if it laughs,

54. It then laments with weeping,
We in it are like cattle, grazing,

55. While it is like a singing meadow,
Death and hopes, this is the herder,

56. And it is the ropes, and we are like sheep,
And I see it as a gate we must enter,

57. Our nobles in death are like the lowly,
Most honored are those who hastened,

58. To bury him and wash him with water,
Loss is not the same for all people,

59. But it is an exception,
O you who populated the barrens,

60. That the dwellings of the living were ruined by them,
Death of villages and death of those in them, but not,

61. Death of one singular scholar,
Is this farewell, will we meet after it?

62. I fear its opposite of meeting,
Most dear that before loss befell you, we would have,

63. Ransomed you with our souls and children,
Wondrous is the bearer of his bier and his bier,

64. Like the carriers of a bier in the sky’s loftiness,
And he is mighty to be carried from shoulder,

65. To shoulder in a simple litter,
O you who buried him, his grave’s enclosure,

66. Contains seclusion like Jawza Valley,
I wish his grave had been in my eyelids,

67. Shrouded by their weeping lids,
To the Most Merciful’s mercy his soul found rest,

68. Embracing the houris in the Most High,
It left, rested, departed or migrated,

69. With his soil every cloud and drizzle,
Like the swiveling of stars over his grave,

70. Alternating like the seasons,
Watering graves around it by its side,

71. The lanterns revived by a voice of life,
We have in Midad's solace and its crafting,

72. Abdullah Al-Khatib, Hassan's hope,
One who died but had successors,

73. In what he was to his successors, is not dead,
They are two generations of wisdom and erudition,

74. And two seas of generosity and religious decree,
Bearing the caliphate’s burden,

75. And the most honorable of noble deeds,
Midad Abdullah, Ahmad’s two sons,

76. Pinnacles of the highborn,
Take your father’s place in all that,

77. He undertook of matters,
And your forefathers’ achievements do not evade you,

78. For praise is the path of ancestral achievements,
You are the children of Midad, a secret,

79. Of God in ease and adversity,
And God clothed you in the garment of nobility,

80. An inheritance from fathers to sons,
If one who was an exemplar among you dies,

81. Another exemplar arises to lead,
Like stars: if one hides, another,

82. Brighter star appears to the beholder,
You are the epoch’s mind, hearing, and eyes,

83. And the rest of people are like limbs,