أبا مصر ومصدر نعمتيها

O father of Egypt and source of its twin bounties, time has grown old while you remain youthful.

Every pharaoh built for you lofty structures where you were worshipped, and you were worthy of it.

No human soul ever looked upon such abundant graces and lush fertility where drought finds no footing.

Gratitude was the sole aim of every eye, while the Lord of the universe transcends mortal comprehension.

Can anyone witness such artistry and fail to acknowledge a Maker who towers above all understanding?

Connoisseurs recognize the art of excellence, and no excellence surpasses that of the Nile.

O father of Egypt, endless epochs have passed while you continuously pour forth prosperity.

You bring it freely from the Sudan and scatter it in profusion across the lands.

The lakes of the south are your obedient handmaidens, bending their streams to your command.

You sweep up the soils of Ethiopia and Dinka, smelting them until they turn to gold within you.

You carry it upon beasts of burden, flooding the bare and barren valleys with life.

Your generosity knows no stinginess; beside the Nile, even the bounty of the sea looks like greed.

O father of Egypt, do you know how many peoples grew mighty along your valley and then faded away?

They brought the dead earth back to life long ago, turning arid wastes into gardens.

Their engineers mastered land surveying and moved massive weights regardless of how heavy the load.

They built the pyramids with flawless angles, making every other monument seem insignificant beside them.

Sirius served as their constant guide, alongside the Pole Star as time marched on.

Within them lies such marvellous craftsmanship that our modern creators have produced nothing like it.

Their temples are a book recounting the stories of kings who reigned before Menes.

You look upon their walls and inscriptions, taking them for the enigmatic talismans of sorcerers.

The Arabs found them to be an uncrackable riddle, leaving them sealed away for ages.

Yet in the lands of the West there arose people who made the unravelling of the impossible their guiding faith.

They charged forth with resolute ambition, achieving greatness and unlocking the secrets of the ancients.

They uncovered histories, reports, and descriptions of a royal dominion unbroken by division.

No religious monuments in the Nile valley have endured with such glorious impact save these.

Human souls clung to them, surviving across the centuries in a state of abundant ease.

Monarchs continuously honoured them with gifts, and temple priests with sacred hymns.

The entire populace offered generous gifts out of devotion to the Lord of the unseen.

Such spiritual worship placed its commands directly upon the masters of wealth without evasion.

Wealth was given freely in the path of charity to support the finest cultivated lands.

Their burial vaults, designed for the soul's immortality, stand as elegant proofs of an orderly path.

You look upon the past life of the entombed as if a book were translating it in precise detail.

His military expeditions, the spoils of wealth, and the captives he won are all recorded there.

His daily life, what he gave and bestowed, and how he conducted himself in times of plenty and want.

What he hoped for in terms of divine grace and favour, while the dead soul echoes with hymns of praise.

Your people held fast to these glories for ages, passing them to the Ptolemies when they took power.

They preserved sacred religious sentiments, exalting and building up the temples.

They pleased their religious leaders, thereby contenting the general populace and raising the nation.

Then the Romans came and tyrannized, shearing the wool, milking the flocks, and driving the people hard.

After them disasters followed one another, with armies constantly summoned and reinforced.

Building a kingdom is difficult, attempted by none save the great, whereas destruction is easy.

O father of Egypt, long epochs have passed whose links were mutual betrayal and ruin.

Wealth and lives were plundered at will, as if human beings were mere cattle and sheep.

The land was devastated, leaving no crops, and the people scattered without even fighting back.

The country cried out against tyranny and oppression, yet often within a disease lies its own cure.

God willed that the dark nights should pass away and that light should spread once more.

He sent righteousness and justice, and for the people, righteousness and justice are all-sufficient.