I’ve paid no attention to your warnings:
while claiming to be an idol breaker, I’ve really been an idol-maker.
Should I pay more attention to Your works or to death?
Let it be death, for death is like autumn,
and You are the root from which all leaves spring.
For years death has been beating the drum,
but only when time has fled does your ear hear.
In agony the heedless person cries from the depths of their soul,
“Alas, I am dying!” Has death only just now awakened you?
Death is hoarse from shouting: from so many astounding blows,
her drum skin has spilt, but you enmeshed yourself in trivialities;
and only now do you apprehend this mystery of death.

(Mathnawi: VI, 771-776)