The Man who Argued with His Soul
The Man's Accusations
I opened my mouth to my soul
That I might answer what it had said:
This is too much for me today,
That my soul does not answer me;
It is really too great to be exaggerated.
It is just like deserting me.
Let not my soul depart,
But let it wait for me there.
His crime shall not be mine.
It is gripped in my body like a net of cords,
But it will not happen that it can escape the day of trouble.
See, my soul misleads me,
But I do not listen to it,
As I am dragged to an untimely death,
To throw myself on the fire and be consumed,
Although there is no suffering for him.
May it be near me on the day of misfortune;
May it stand on yonder side like my advocate:
"This one will go forth because he has merited it."
My soul is too stupid to ease the despair about life,
And it holds me back from death ere I come to it.
Make the West pleasant for me.
Is it too much trouble?
Life is a time of transition
And even the trees must fall.
Stamp out wrongdoing,
For my misery endures.
May Thoth, who propiates the gods, judge me.
May Khonsu defend me,
Even he who writes what is true.
May Re hear my words,
Even he who commands the sun barque.
May Isdes defend me in the Holy Chamber,
Because my wretchedness is so heavy
With what has been loaded upon me.
It would be pleasant to have the gods defend the secrets
Of my body.
The Soul's Reply
What my soul said to me:
Are you not a man?
Since you are, indeed, alive,
What does it profit you to worry about life
Like a person who is wealthy?
I say one who goes,
As a matter of fact,
Free from all capricious behavior.
But if you don't take care any prisoner may say:
"I will grab you!"
When you are silent your living name perishes
And settles in the place for one weary of desire.
The landing place is the West: the voyage does not go beyond it.
The Man's Rebuttal
If my soul, my neglectful brother, will listen to me,
And its opinion agrees with mine,
It will be fine.
For I will cause it to reach the West like one who is in his pyramid,
And at whose burial an advocate stood up.
I will erect a shelter for your remains,
Inviting the envy of another weary soul.
I will erect a shelter for one that is not cold,
Inviting the envy of another soul that is too hot,
And I will drink water at the eddy.
I will erect a shade.
Inviting the envy of another soul that is hungry.
If you prevent my dying in this manner
You will not find a place of rest in the West.
So be kind, my soul, my brother, and become
My heir who will sacrifice for me,
Stand at the timb on the day of burial,
And prepare a bed for the necropolis.
The Soul's Second Reply
My soul opened up its mouth to me
That it might answer what I had said:
If you are talking about burial, it is a sad affair;
It is a bringer of tears and makes a man miserable.
It snatches a man from his house
And dumps him on the high ground.
Never again will you go out to see the sun.
The man who built in granite,
They hewed out chambers in goodly pyramids
With fine workmanship,
But when the builders became gods
Their monuments were laid waste like weary ones
Dead at the river's edge for want of a survivor.
The waves take their toll, and the sun's rays likewise.
Now the fishes along the river-bank talk to them.
Listen to me:
Behold, it is good for men to listen;
Follow the happy time and forget care.
The First "Parable" of the Soul
A poor man plows his plot of ground
And loads his harvest into a ship;
He tows it because his festival is approaching.
He sees the coming on of darkness and with it the evening
He is vigilant in the boat as Re sets.
He gets out with his wife,
His children are lost on the lake.
Treacherous with crocodiles in the night.
After a while he sits down and raises his voice to say:
"I do not weep for that girl;
For here there is no more coming forth from the West or for another on earth.
I grieve for her children,
Crushed in the egg,
Who saw the face of the crocodile-god before they had lived."
The Second "Parable" of the Soul
A poor man asks for his noon meal,
His wife says to him:
"It is for supper."
He goes outside to grumble
Until the moment when he returns to his house.
He is like another man.
Although his wife is experienced with,
He does not listen to her.
But, after complaining for a while,
He is emptied of demonic spirits.
The First Poem of the Man
I opened my mouth to my soul,
I answered what it had said:
Behold, my name stinks because of you!
Behold, more than the stench of bird droppings
On a summer day, when the sky is hot.
Behold, my name stinks because of you!
Behold, more than the handler of fish
On the day of the catch, when the sky is hot.
Behold, my name stinks because of you!
Behold, more than the stench of birds,
More than the place where waterfowl congregate.
Behold, my name stinks because of you!
Behold, more then the stench of fishermen,
More than the marshes where they have fished.
Behold, my name stinks because of you!
Behold, more than the stench of crocodiles,
More than squatting in a spot where crocodiles gather.
Behold, my name stinks because of you!
Behold, more than a woman
About whom lies have been told because of a man.
Behold, my name stinks because of you!
Behold, more than a brave lad
Of whom it is said: "He belongs to his rival."
Behold, my name stinks because of you!
Behold, a town belonging to the sovereign,
Which plots rebellion behind his back.
The Second Poem of the Man
To whom can I speak today?
Brothers are evil
And the friends of today do not love.
To whom can I speak today?
Hearts are rapacious
And every man grabs his neighbor's goods.
To whom can I speak today?
The gentle person has perished
And the violent man oppresses everybody.
To whom can I speak today?
Evil is condoned
And goodness is everywhere neglected.
To whom can I speak today?
Once his evil conduct outraged people
And now everyone just laughs at his wicked sin.
To whom can I speak today?
Men have resorted to plundering
And every man robs his neighbor.
To whom can I speak today?
The wrongdoer has become an intimate friend
And the brother with whom one once collaborated is now an enemy.
To whom can I speak today?
Yesterday has been forgotten
And no one now helps the one who used to do good.
To whom can I speak today?
Brothers have become evil
And men seek out the upright of heart among strangers
To whom can I speak today?
Faces are averted
And every man views his brothers with suspicion.
To whom can I speak today?
Hearts are rapacious
And there is no man's heart that can be trusted.
To whom can I speak today?
There are no longer any righteous ones
And the land has been abandoned to evildoers.
To whom can I speak today?
For want of an intimate friend
One fetches someone unknown and complains to him.
To whom can I speak today?
There is no contented man
And the one with whom one walked no longer exists.
To whom can I speak today?
I am weighed down with misery
For want of an intimate friend.
To whom can I speak today?
Evil now roams the land
And there is no end to it.
The Third Poem of the Man
Death is in my sight today
Like the recovery of a sick man,
Like venturing out after a confinement.
Death is in my sight today
Like the odor of myrrh,
Like sitting under a salt on a breezy day.
Death is in my sight today
Like the fragrance of lotus blossoms,
Like sitting on the shore or inebriation.
Death is in my sight today
Like a rain-washed path,
Like a man homeward bound from an expedition.
Death is in my sight today
Like a clear place in the sky,
Like a man who gains something unexpected.
Death is in my sight today
Like the longing of a man to see his home again
After spending many years in captivity.
The Fourth Poem of the Man
Surely, he who is yonder
Will be a living god,
Meting out punishment to the one who has sinned.
Sure, he who is yonder
Will stand in the barque of the sun,
Distributing choice offereings to the temples.
Surely, he who is yonder
Will be a man of wisdom,
Unhindered when he appeals to Re.
The Soul's Conciliatory Reply
What my soul said to me:
Set mourning aside.
For you belong to me, my brother.
Make an offering upon the fire
And cleave to life, even as you said it.
Desire me here and reject the West.
But, if you still desire to attain the West
When your body joins the earth,
I shall alight after you have come to rest.
Let us, therefore, make a home together.
Colophon
It has come from its beginning to its end,
As it was found in the writing.
This is an actual papryrus scroll aquired in 1843 by the Koenigliche Preussische Museum in Berlin and was part of a collection amassed by Giovanni d'Anastasi, who was the Swedish Consul in Egypt. The papyrus is a copy of a document composed around 2000 BC. I own a physical copy of the heiroglyphs and translation due to a very sweet friend who sent it to me after the last chronicle ended along with other Egyptian writings because of Silent Strider rp.
As this suddenly became relevent to some National Mage players, I felt that it might be important to post it here for everyone to see. If anything, it is just an interesting read to see a man argue with his ba.
I hope you enjoy it.