I entered a cell one day, and read on its walls two verses written by a passerby before me in beautiful handwriting: O …

I entered a cell one day, and read on its walls two verses written by a passerby before me in beautiful handwriting: O my Creator, from where do I begin with praise? While I, my poetry, are from You, even my tongue O my shame, and if You forgive, I see my disobedience in every corner How beautiful is acknowledgment to Allah and gratitude to Him, Glory be to Him, from the womb of suffering.