קי

And when they saw that he was approaching the end — they began to recite over him the Mavar Yabok [the passages recited over the dying and the departing righteous]. And afterward it seemed that he had expired. And I began to weep and to cry out greatly: "Rabbi! Rabbi! On whom have you left us?!" And he heard our voice — and he roused himself — and turned his head and his awesome face toward us — as if to say: "I am not leaving you, Heaven forbid." And afterward — he did not delay long. And he expired and was gathered to his people — in great holiness and purity — pure and clean and radiant — without any confusion whatsoever, without any unusual motion whatsoever — with wondrous and awesome equanimity of mind. And all those standing there — many members of the holy burial society and all the great attendants who engage in this — all of them said that they had already seen many who died in cleanliness and awareness — but a passing like this they had never seen in their lives. And all of this was according to our understanding — but as to the true nature of his passing: we have no mouth to speak, for no thought can grasp it at all. And one who will understand a little of his greatness through his holy books and the conversations and stories we heard from him — will understand that it is impossible to speak at all of a passing so wondrous and awesome — the like of which there never was and never will be — as he said explicitly, as recorded elsewhere [Chayay Moharan §246]. What shall we say and what shall we speak — what shall I return to Hashem — that I merited to be at the moment of the departure of his holy soul. Had I come into the world only for this — it would have been enough for me.

And immediately — certainly a great commotion arose, and we cried out "Ana b'koach" [the Kabbalistic prayer], and certainly a very great and mighty weeping broke out. And no woman was in the house from the moment he passed away peacefully until the next day when they brought him out of his house to burial. And this too is not common with any person — that no woman should weep over him. For his daughters were not with him then. And his wife did not find it in her heart to enter his room to weep over him — for she was his second wife and had no closeness with him zichrono livracha. Rather, she wept in her own room.

And immediately upon the departure of his soul in holiness — and they began to remove his garments from him — in the midst of the commotion of weeping — Rabbi Shimon hurried himself at once. And he took the key and opened the commode and took out from there all the writings that had not been given to us during his lifetime. And there were several books and notebooks scattered about. And he took them all and went to another room where there was a stove — in order to burn them as Rabbainu had commanded him as mentioned. And I also went with him — in bitterness of soul, in weeping — in order to merit at least to absorb from the holy smoke of his awesome Torah that the generation did not merit to benefit from. Woe to us — what we have lost because of our many sins. And after he had cast them into the stove — I returned to him zichrono livracha in his room. And I found him already placed on the ground [as is the Jewish custom before burial]. And his face was uncovered. And he appeared to be smiling slightly. And the awesome purity of the countenance of his awesome face then — was literally like the very appearance of his face during his lifetime — in those moments when he walked in his home back and forth and was thinking what he thought. At such times there rested upon him all kinds of true grace from all the worlds — that awesome grace and wondrous beauty rested upon him then as I saw him lying on the ground. And this cannot be portrayed — except for one who merited to see him in his lifetime at that moment when he walked in his home back and forth.

And he passed away peacefully on Tuesday — the fourth day of Sukkos, the eighteenth of Tishrei, in the year 5571 [small reckoning], in the afternoon — several hours after midday.