يا أيها الأستاذ للأساتذه — Mufti Fathallah

O teacher of teachers,

shaykh of shaykhs, most accomplished of the learned masters,

the sage, the great scholar, the consummate expert,

the brilliant master scholar, the renowned one,

the keen-witted, clear-sighted critic,

an ocean of knowledge, a master memorizer and expert.

The scholar, the peerless Baydawi of the age,

whose excellence in exegesis is not denied.

You are the Bukhari of the age, the hadith master;

from him, hadith narration and speech have grown sweet.

And he to whose excellence Muslim has come

to bear witness, affirming that he is foremost.

The skilled jurist—he is Malik

in this age, in which he guides the seeker.

And the Sibawayh of the age, and al-Khalil,

one whose like is seldom found today.

The Sa'd of rhetoric, al-Sayyid al-Sharif,

and he is renowned for his excellence.

He who united rational and transmitted knowledge,

and memorized the texts and transmitted accounts.

So none can oppose him in debate,

and none can raise objections or refute him.

Rather, he compels his opponents with proof,

and they have no decisive argument against him.

You gifted me a gem of a rajaz poem,

exquisite, graceful, and concise.

It outshines the delicacy of flowers in their calyxes,

and puts the moon to shame at its fullest.

Nor can necklaces of gems rival it

in its beauty and its smoothly flowing verse.

Praiseworthy—and it comes from Muhammad;

it is unthinkable that it should go unpraised.

May your mouth never be broken; indeed, may he not live a moment

who treats you harshly, O man of fine character.

You have explained what prompted its composition,

and your collecting its verses and joining them.

It was my lord the imam's hearing—

that most illustrious, noble, magnanimous man—

of the estrangement that is taking place

between me and the man of splendid merits,

Beirut's deputy, a man of intelligence,

and a close friend who preserves affection and fidelity.

That is true, O man of noble lineage,

yet I know of no reason for it.

I do not know what prompted his coldness,

his anger, or what brought about his displeasure.

And perhaps I am guilty in his eyes,

and sins are my habit and my way.

Nor do I absolve my soul, ever urging

evil—neither explicitly nor by implication.

Had I not been guilty, there would have been no unleashing

of his tongue with truth or fabrication.

He set loose those he set loose, with insolence,

against me, from among those who do not understand what is said.

Rather, there was no cause among people

for my aversion, which had unleashed my misgivings.

Indeed, he is my shaykh and my teacher, who

has rescued me from my ignorance.

How could I oppose him and be content with his anger,

and abandon what was made incumbent on me

by his guidance and his renowned kindness—

for which he is praised and thanked—

and his opening my house, which had been closed,

and his raising my standing, in which he was sincere?

And whoever opposes his teacher is base,

and a base man's son, reproached among mankind.

And I do indeed hope for his pardon,

his overlooking my lapse, and his goodwill.

For he is worthy and well suited to this,

and a noble man approves of nothing else.

Then my hope from you, O man of insight,

is that you take no notice of a slip of the tongue.

I am a man whose cloak is faults,

and concealing them is a duty for you.

And I am not one who would oppose your command;

rather, I stand before it in obedience.

And may you remain in the Preserver's care,

and His protection for all time, and in His safety,

as long as a star falls, and as long as it rises,

and as long as lightning appears, and as long as it flashes,

as long as al-Fath hopes, praying evermore,

that God may grant us a good ending.