Poetry: Ashraf AboArafe
On Egypt’s Labor Day, the pulse beats anew,
And every grain of sand stands in tribute to you.
O Egypt, the world’s rose and its boundless source,
Great you remain, whatever the hardship’s course.
O “Mother of the World,” the Earth’s very core,
Your lion’s den shatters the delusions of war.
The envious and the greedy lurk in their spite,
But our people’s resolve snaps the threads of the night.
How much every home needs the mind that connects,
To the wisdom of builders—whom resolve respects.
We seek the model of firmness in every deed,
When a soul turns to glory, it shall surely succeed.
O Shield of Egypt, an army of pride and might,
Guarding the borders, through the day and the night.
And O Eyes of Security, police ever awake,
Purifying the land for every citizen’s sake.
O Medicine of Egypt, our safety in every pain,
O Engineers, by your hands the monuments remain.
O Teacher, the beacon of values and light,
Far be it from your noble craft to be a “last flight,”
For you are the root, the source of the young and the bright.
O Artist, the pulse that heals our soul’s distress,
Shining the light where shadows of pain digress.
O Justice, our refuge when darkness descends,
O Accountant, the fortress where our wealth depends.
Justice, Health, and Knowledge—the pillars we prize,
The foremost of goals, where our true honor lies.
Farming, Industry, and Tourism of keen sight,
In Trade, the voice of victory rings with light.
We secure our food—crops, livestock, and sea,
Exporting prosperity, from all shortages free.
From the power of the sun to the soul’s inner fire,
All life’s essentials, to fulfill our desire.
O Worker of the land, “Skill” is your sacred pride,
With “Conscience” as an ally, forever by your side.
Two sides of one coin, for a nation’s rebirth,
By them, Egypt’s beacons shall illuminate the Earth!
