Poetry: Ashraf AboArafe
Hagar the Egyptian,
in the desert of thirst,
ran between Safa and Marwah,
her tears carving a prayer,
her child’s heel striking the earth—
and Zamzam flowed!
Mecca rose from Egypt’s womb,
its pulse tied to the Nile.
Every pilgrimage remembers her,
every heart still drinks from her well.
O people!
Every Egyptian man,
every Egyptian woman,
is uncle and aunt to humankind.
Egypt—
named in the Qur’an,
the gift of the Merciful,
the cradle of peace:
“Enter Egypt in safety.”
Egypt—
of Hattin and ‘Ain Jalut,
of the Tenth of Ramadan,
of pyramids that outlast time.
O you who let your souls whisper against her greatness,
beware!
For when Egypt says Yes,
the world must listen.
And when Egypt says No,
the earth trembles,
the heavens pause.
Egypt—
refuge of prophets:
Abraham, Joseph, Jacob,
Moses and Jesus,
Job, Idris, al-Khidr…
all walked her soil,
all found shelter from oppression.
Her Nile—sweetness of paradise,
her seas—meeting of worlds,
her sky—veil of eternity.
She terrifies her foes,
as in October’s glory.
She reminds the beloved of her greatness.
She warns the lurking enemy
with the cycles of history.
And then came the Seal of Prophets,
Muhammad, peace be upon him,
from Ishmael son of Hagar,
a fragrant blessing to mankind,
a torch of light upon the earth.
He said:
“Treat the people of Egypt kindly,
for they are your kin and in-laws.”
How could they forget Maria the Copt,
beloved of the Prophet?
How could they forget Husayn and Zaynab,
who found in Egypt their refuge and home?
How could they forget
the Companions who marched with Amr ibn al-‘As
to embrace her in Islam?
On her sacred soil,
the Almighty appeared upon Sinai,
speaking to Moses.
The mountain trembled,
the sky stood still,
and the earth bowed to His voice.
No—
I am not here to boast of my mother,
who bore me nine months,
who cradled me in her arms,
whose Nile quenched my thirst.
I am here to remind the forgetful
who she is:
The Crown of Exaltation,
the Jewel of the East and the West.
