Ahmed Fouad Negm

1929-2013 / Sharqia, Egypt

Man Son Of Man

The mule told the donkey
Father, give me the cart

Father, you're old
And it's my turn

The donkey coughed a cough
That startled the passengers

Son, it's not to do with health
For everything, there is a reason

The cart's driver
Needs someone wise

And you have empty eyes
All you care about is food

Tell me how you'll drive
When hay fills your eyes

Even the bridle, my son
Is too big for you

Calm down, and stop being greedy
Don't anger the passengers

Don't come near them
Or this night will be hell

They're the vicious kind
Able, and not to be trusted

They may seem feeble
But they're knights

O father, their sleep is deep
It has been so, for years

All other humans woke
And those they are still asleep

Mule, stop being absurd
And don't live in arrogance

They're not stupid
And their bones aren't weak

One day they'll wake
And remove waggle this cart

And you'll find in your neck
Eighty spikes wedged

Translated by:Walaa Quisay
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