Poem: Oh Deer of the Oasis, By God, What Harm Have You Suffered?
The poet Hafez Ibrahim expresses:
Oh deer of the oasis, by God, what harm have you suffered?
When we catch a glimpse of your spirit in our sleep,
What do you fear if they were to say
So-and-so has become your servant?
They have forbidden slavery, yet
They have not prohibited the slavery of love at your hands.
Egypt has become their pasture,
While you remain within the heart, a grazing ground for you.
It would not have been easy for them to see the Nile,
If their swords held a glimpse of you.
Poem: I Threw It Upon This Heights
Here is a poem about Egypt by the poet Hafez Ibrahim:
I threw it upon this height,
And I intended it to be nothing but mirage,
And I carried it as a burden—
Someday you will demand payment for it.
I have wronged you, my soul, and before you,
My father wronged you. So be rid of my reproach.
If only they had not buried my statement,
I would have reached your aspirations and healed what ails me.
I did not excuse myself until my sandals
Were drenched in blood and my pillow was the dust’s face.
And until the sun made me a slave,
Tanned after it had processed my skin.
And until deprivation clipped my nails
And the measure of the needy shattered my tooth.
When will I reach, oh Egypt, a land
Where I can smell its soil’s perfume?
I saw the son of Al-Bokhar passing through its hills,
Moving as if he embodies youthful vigor.
As if in his belly lies the insides of a boy,
Stoking the fire of longing for return.
Whenever it gets dark, we ask the night,
Is it the earth that flashes or the lightning in the clouds?
Poem: I Have Shattered the Pen, So Do Not Wonder
Here are some exquisite verses about the great Egypt by Hafez Ibrahim:
I have shattered the pen, so do not wonder,
And I have repudiated eloquence, so do not blame me.
For you, oh Egypt, are not the home of the writer,
Nor are you the noble land.
And how many writers, oh Egypt, are there,
Who have abandoned writing without ever composing?
So do not reproach me for this silence,
For I have felt more constrained by you than ever before.
Does it please me, on the day of contentment,
To hear the silence of the inanimate and the childish games?
How many people have been angered before us
At the theft of rights, yet we did not anger?
Oh offspring of this era, indeed the stranger
Is striving hard in Egypt, so do not play.
They say: In the youth, there is goodness for us,
But the youth is yet an evil from the foreigner.
Is there a refuge in Al-Azbakeya for the sons,
And among the mosques a refuge for the fathers?
How many absurdities are there in Egypt,
As Abu Al-Tayyib once said?
Matters go by, and a life continues,
While we indulge in playful amusements.
A people that flees from the righteous,
Like a healthy man flees from a leper.
And papers that buzz like flies,
And another that hurls itself against the nearest.
This one clings to the palace of the prince,
And calls for the wider shade.
And that one clings to the ambassador’s mansion,
And is overly praising in his melodies.
This one screams alongside the screamers,
With no intent or aim.
And they said: He is a foreigner who faced adversity,
Oh what a kind foreigner to my doctrine!
They saw us asleep, and when we awoke,
They prepared for action and gain.
And what is it to them if we fall short,
While we have not toiled for our livelihood?
We have become accustomed to idleness, oh, for the better,
We have become accustomed to idleness and we did not lie!
And they said: The confirmed is amidst a flood,
He was thrown by the ambitious desires.
Love called him, in the age of manhood,
And he went into a madness over the daughter of the Prophet.
Men cried out for his downfall,
And they said: He has colored himself in his drinking.
And they counted against him with many vices,
Thousands that do revolve with the centuries.
And they said: He is close to the House of the Messenger,
Did he assault the nobler lineage?
And Abu Khutwa endorsed their words,
With a ruling sharper than a sword’s edge.
So why should congratulations at his abode,
Rain down like the heavy rain?
And why should envoys at his door,
Bring tidings in a procession?
And why should the caliph bestow upon him,
A medal worthy of a noble’s chest?
Oh nation that cannot be captured in description,
The gardens of eloquence and insight!
Truth is lost among us,
And the innocent suffers alongside the guilty.
And in wisdom is slighted the wise leader,
While the ignorant and foolish are honored among us.
To the East from me, a greeting of affection,
Even if the East bows to the West.
Once it was fertile with plenty in times of abundance,
But deprived in times of plenty!
Poem: I Returned to Myself and Accused My Potentials
We present you with these poetic verses about Egypt by the Egyptian poet Hafez Ibrahim:
I returned to myself and accused my potentials,
And I called upon my people and expected my life.
They accused me of barrenness in youth, and I wish I had,
For I did not despair at the words of my foes.
I was born, and when I did not find for my daughters,
Men and equals, I buried them.
God’s book contains enough in speech and purpose,
And I did not lack for his verses and wisdom.
So how can I feel confined today by describing a device,
And arranging names for inventions?
I am the sea in which the pearls lie hidden,
Did they ever question the diver about my shells?
Oh, woe to you if my beauty wears and my attributes fade,
From among you, even if the remedy is scarce, my misdeeds!
So do not leave me to time, for I
Fear for you that my death might come.
I see the men of the West have honor and might,
And many nations have honored the glory of their languages.
They have brought their people miracles as if they were art,
So I wish you would also bring words.
Does a foreign crow in my presence soothe you,
Calling for my death in a spring of life?
And if you were to shoo away birds, you would know
What struggles and scatterings it conceals.
May God shower blessings in the heart of this island,
For it greatly despises submitting to humility.
I preserved my affection in degradation, and I preserved it
For them with a heart that bears eternal regrets.
I was proud of the people of the West, while the East remained silent,
Out of modesty facing those NASA bones.
I see every day in the newspapers a trap,
Leading me from the grave without deliberation.
And I hear the writers in Egypt raising a clamor,
So I know that the screamers are declaring my demise.
Do my own people, may God forgive them, forsake me
For a language that has never been connected to narrators?
A miasma of the Europeans creeped in as the venom of snakes,
Came into the flow of the Euphrates.
It came as a garment stitched from seventy patches,
Richly colored and diverse in hue.
To the gathering of writers, and the crowd gathering,
I stretched my hope after outlining my grievances.
Either a life that revives the dead in ruin,
And sprouts my relics from those mounds,
Or a death with no resurrection afterward,
A death that, by my life, cannot compare to the death.
Poem: Ask the Night About Them and the Day
We have chosen this poem about Egypt by the poet Hafez Ibrahim:
Ask the night about them and the day,
How did their women sleep, and the virgins?
How did their infant fare, having lost?
And how did it burn among the people in the fire?
How did the old woman collapse under a wall,
That is collapsing with competing ceilings?
O Lord, for the fate has overtaken them,
So unveil the calamity and veil their fates!
And command the fire to cease its harm,
And command the rain to pour down abundantly!
Where is the flood of Noah that quenches,
This fire? For it is complaining about its miseries.
It ignited the coal of night, and it became
To fill the earth and sky with flames!
Misery washed over them as it flowed right,
And poverty drowned them as it floods left.
It attacked their faces, white as it was,
Then it retreated, having cloaked them in ashes.
It devoured their homes, and when it settled,
It left no trace of their children, big or small.
They emerged from their dwellings naked,
In fear of death, searching for a way out.
They wear darkness until the morning comes,
And then they put on the light.
A robe that cannot shield them from the cold, nor
Does it repel the dust away from them.
Oh you who are adorned in splendid robes,
Dragging the train as a display of pride!
Above the nakedness, there are starving people,
Hiding in humility and disgrace.
Oh imprisoned one, do not let the prison,
Deny you from fixing your faults!
Order a thousand for them and if you wish, add more,
And shelter them as the Christians took refuge.
We witnessed yesterday in Egypt a wedding,
Filling the eyes and heart with joy!
Where the goodness flowed until we thought,
That the courtyard ran with prosperity.
The privileged spent the night in pleasure,
Hiding their beauty from the dawn.
They wore happiness at times, and at times
In the cup, they stripped off their restraint.
And we heard in the drunken revelry of the night,
A clamor that filled the wilderness and the seas.
Poem: Is it to Egypt or the Lands of the Levant You Belong?
Here is another poem about Egypt:
Is it to Egypt or the lands of the Levant you belong?
Here is greatness, and there is glory and lineage!
Two pillars of the East, their lands remain,
The heart of the crescent moon forever beating!
Veils for the Arabic tongue have never been torn,
Nor has the literature swayed from its songs.
Mother of languages, at the moment of pride be its mother,
And when you ask about the ancestors, they are the Arabs.
Do they long for virtue, while between them,
Is that distinguished lineage in magnificent heights?
Neither do they separate nor make excuses,
If a calamity descends upon the Nile Valley.
Once a visitor descends upon the Nile,
It stirs the strong of the Levant to rage.
And if one calls for support with a burden,
He hears it echo from the heights of Lebanon.
If the Nile and Jordan remain steadfast in friendship,
The waters and the grasses would reach out in greeting.
In both valleys, pride walks its path,
Surrounded by the gift and endurance of generosity.
This one flows forward with abundance, while another burns with the plummeting yields,
With Lebanon’s breeze that blasts forth a fragrant aroma.
How many fresh breezes did the gardens give you,
And how many greetings did the flowing water shower down upon you?
In the East and West breathe fervor,
Yearning towards you, with flames in their midst!
If human desires did not seek a replacement,
For the joy of your stream, then heights will labor.
How many a maiden in the lands of the Levant sobs,
For an affirmative emotional bond straining for fulfillment?
She passes with no ability but strong resolve,
While her glories vanish like gold.
Days shift backward through time,
And resolution knows not its inability.
In Columbus’s land, there are fierce heroes,
Hungry beasts, if they leap, they break.
No flag holds them there and no headcounts,
Except clear prowess that holds their debts away.
Will we find hope shifting underneath this earth,
And on every hill, the route remains a wonder?
There is no spark in the horizon on this resort,
Except that it was anticipated up in the Levant.
What does it matter that they were scattered across the land,
For fallen stars are scattered here since they formed?
Neither does adversity dampen their spirits,
For every living soul must one day endure.
They sought all the fortunes of the earth and if they could ride,
The galaxies would welcome their fate as they pass.
Or spoken of the sun to be their retreat,
They cast out their paths into the sky with haste.
They strove for honored gains, and the endeavors never ceased,
Mother of tongues, with that strive, you will shine.
Wherever the people of the Levant are, it would appear,
There is new life and a favor that does not fade.
My hand extends to the people of Egypt; I grasp it,
They shake hands, and it compliments the Arab spirit.
For the Kinana is none but the Levant, hailing from
Her own people, noble lords!
Were it not for some politickers among them,
From us and them, we would not scold or reproach.
If they write me an offense in their affection,
For surely in shame lies glory in the blame they write.