Most Beautiful Quotes About Egypt
- In Egypt, there is the flowing rhyme, the enchanting sentence, the passionate article, and the fragrant idea.
- If worries troubled you before entering, as you step in, you will find eternal joy awaiting you.
- Oh Egypt, the mother of civilization and the ages, the cradle of kindness and roots.
- Oh Egypt, the mother of knowledge and scholars, the beacon of jurisprudence and jurists.
- A land that, should you arrive burdened by hardship, returns you noble and dignified.
- Oh Egypt, the mother of fresh waters, the heart of pure souls.
- Indeed, Egypt embodies both ailment and remedy.
- Oh Egypt, the mother of green lands, the sky that stretches blue above.
- Oh Egypt, the mother of yellow mountains, the nurturing palm trees.
- How many hearts have longed for you in ways beyond measure.
Words About the Mother of the World
- Oh Egypt, the mother of Alexandria, the bride of the Mediterranean Sea.
- Oh Egypt, the mother of the new Nile, the mother of the new valley.
- My homeland, Egypt, I love you with every bit of my blood and heart.
- In Egypt, poetry blooms, and eloquence flows magically from the pen.
- Where do we begin, Egypt, in our conversation? How do we bestow you our greetings, before a moment of respect, for in your eyes lie the days, the flags, the pens, and the years.
- Your love is a land, and beauty is its roof, with glory bestowed upon you, oh Egypt, you hold a thousand blessings, how splendid your gait, your eyelids, and your palm.
- Oh Egypt, the mother of Minya, the bride of Upper Egypt.
- Life is rich with inspiration, especially in Egypt.
- Peace be upon you, oh land of the Nile, oh mother of generations.
- In Egypt, hearts embrace, lovers shake hands, and Joseph meets Jacob.
- Oh Egypt, the mother of poetry and poets, the mother of the prince of poets.
- Oh beloved ones, wherever you roam and wander, come down to Egypt for you will find what you seek.
The Poem “Egypt” by Mohamed Naguib Morad
The gift of God since ancient times,
It is Egypt, so let my tongue unleash.
Transcending the confines of meter and rhyme,
For a love that surpasses measures and scales.
Here flows the Nile, gracefully twisting,
Weeping for the love of the valleys.
As if the waters were a lover’s tears,
Gently cascading upon the eyelids.
And the trees play while a longing boy,
Melts within them, just as maidens tease.
Or as if the roses and youthful cheeks,
Were caressed by the Nile with tender hands.
Indeed, the palms are like the neck of a bride,
Adorned with dates like a necklace of pearls.
The gentle breeze whispers,
Echoing the charm in the elegance of beauties.
And the white birds form an orchestra,
As the lute opens its chest to the violin.
And the morning sun recites light,
Above the heights of fields and meadows.
Perhaps here, the water flows among gardens,
Intoxicating hearts like a daughter’s allure.
Beauty has counted gardens in grace,
So that the Nile is an eighth in these gardens.
Oh, sail on the surface of the Nile,
Where the night and love sit together.
With a watchful eye peering through clouds,
Turning a blind eye, and thus smiles emerge.
And conversation flows without speech,
Summarizing a thousand speeches with but a glance.
I am, oh Egypt, a lover of yours until,
I have no tears left to shed.
The pangs of love have deeply wounded me,
And much of my patience rests on the precipice.
I have traversed between sweetness and bitterness,
With lingering eyes that gaze fiercely.
I entered the battle of love, yet,
My sword and steed were lost to me.
Egypt colorfully adorned my clothes,
Groomed me and embroidered my shirts.
She clothed me with perfumes,
In its trail, fragrant notes linger.
And she quenched my thirst with divine drink,
Notice its purity in the lines of expression.
I am al-Shafi‘i having arrived in Egypt,
If jurisprudence presents renewed meanings.
Before her, poetry did not exist,
All that existed were mere couplets.
After her, a surge of genius emerged,
For “Shawqi” and “Hafez” resound.
O envy, love is nothing but a sweet torment,
To itself it eternally clings, yet is envied.
Flowers, are not they adorned,
As the petals shine crimson red?
Egypt has turned the pages of time,
She is a treasure for all the ages.
And she leaves a mark in every heart,
And in my heart, she leaves two prints.
Egypt, oh Egypt, all histories have drawn,
In the race while you hasten.
“Aziz” and “Yusuf” and “Zuleikha,”
Enter our land with safety now.
The divine manifestation on the mountain suffices,
For you, oh Egypt, with pride amongst worlds.
And the hymns in your praise continue,
In the texts of the Gospel and the Quran.
From the soil of Egypt, grandmothers connect,
And if the two grandmothers meet.
The womb of blood and faith, Egypt,
Its secret is eternal, it is “the Merciful.”
So ask the scholars of jurisprudence and syntax,
How they cherished it like the beloved womb.
And ask “Al-Dhad,” who has protected it, will answer you:
It is the noble Al-Azhar that sheltered me.
And recount to me an eminent figure in knowledge and artistry,
No one surpassed him in all of Egypt.
Ask the sand who quenched its thirst:
The army of Egypt fed me with its blood.
And look at “Ain Jalut,” whose tales narrate,
After “Qutuz,” its discourse is filled with grandeur.
And the tale of Hattin will share: The army of Salah,
Residing in the heart and wing of “Kinanah.”
Victory cannot arise without Egypt, indeed,
Have you seen a horse without its knights?
There is no rising for the East without Egypt,
How can a house rise without its pillars?
The sun has woven a garment for the Kinanah,
A bridal gown… oh, how splendid the gown!
Then it sprinkled it with stars,
Lighting up the universe with its divine glow.
When the sun weaves threads,
For a beloved… glory is in the strands.
Oh bride of time, as she wears it,
As she sits upon her throne with a luminous crown.
Then she bows in reverence,
Kissing her hand with utmost tenderness.
And if the kiss of time is on the lips,
And if the “thigh” rests amidst the waters of Aswan.
Her “thigh” astonished the seas, and they approached her,
She rested, finding solace by the shores.
The sea rested its head and wished,
For the sea’s deepest desires, the sweetest dreams.
And it leaned its hand on shells,
Tears of pearls scattered everywhere.
Once, the sea dreamt one night, but when
The morning arrived… it became evident.
On “Alexandria,” the sea anchored,
And here, poetry made its home, it is Alexandrian.
Egypt… oh Egypt, when I mention you,
In my poem are joys and melodies.
So fields of violets are my poetry,
And my rhymes are fragrant sighs of basil.
My letters bloom like almond buds, yet,
The period is a pomegranate seed.
Despite this, Egypt remains supreme and cherished,
Forgive me for what I could not express.
My brush tried, along with my words, yet,
Egypt surpasses both my pen and my tongue.
Poetry About Egypt
- Fathi Said says:
It pours, nurturing a barren valley,
Both banks host the river that bestows life.
Whatever branch you ascend from, we belong,
And whichever path you tread, we will diverge.
If you possess a vineyard barren of grapes,
We possess together figs and grapes.
When asked, “Who are you?” We state, we are youth who fell in love,
With those lands; they never swayed nor detached.
When asked, “Where are you from?” We proudly reply, Egypt is our homeland,
And the Nile is our grandfather, with shores as our aunts.
We are but a few who welcomed dawn with its call,
With little status or title there.
Egypt, the sky, the sanctuary, the honor, and ranks;
Egypt, splendor, the village, the cradle, and the books.
- Ahmad Shawqi says:
If you inquire about Egypt, the mother of villages,
And the depths of history and antiquities,
The dawn in Memphis is clear as day;
Who dares to defy the dawn’s brilliance?
With splendor from Memphis and its outskirts,
Clad in garments woven from the sands.
Time has passed, unblinking in its gaze,
And the night came with constant reminders.
Time did not diminish his strength,
Nor did it alter his powerful stature.
As time framed him gracefully,
Well-trodden paths through history’s embrace.
She stood at the venerable Nile’s edge,
Veiled in a cloak of pride, she is admired.
From every rooted grace in the earth,
Rising in the heavens like an eruption.
The potters decorate her with wonder,
With marvels from the builder and the digger.
The land finds no peace in its removal,
From the struggle of the crucified in nails.
These tombs reveal much from the hidden,
Shrouded treasures, relics of the past.
Kings slumbered in this land for ages,
Finding rest and comfort in their slumber.
All akin to the sleep of the People of the Cave,
And time beneath their blankets lay still.
Egypt’s masters, rulers of the earth,
Taking their place in the homes of the stars.
Time unveiled their secrets, and they vanished,
After being guarded, revealing mysteries.
Alas! No decay has touched their divinity,
Except by hands that lack in their tasks.
They were of an era that heeds no equal,
What, therefore, caused them to bow before the observers?
If they were given relief, until the nudity of their homes,
They would rise for their Creator, covered in dust.