In 1947, Hussein Shawky (the son of the Prince of Poets, Ahmed Shawky) published his brilliant book "My Father Shawky" at the Egyptian Nahda Library in Cairo. He spoke about his relationship with his father, and his father's relationship with the rest of the family, whether the wife, the children, or the community outside Ibn Hani's vineyard. Hussein says about his father, for example: "He was as changeable as the ocean, food not prepared as he liked would sour his mood, but if his mood was moderate, he was very kind, pampering everyone and treating them gently, even smothering those around him with kisses."

One of the main drawbacks of the Prince of Poets - as his son Hussein mentions - was his extreme selfishness. For instance, we were unable to have lunch at a specific time, but we had to wait until he was hungry. Often, this wait was long because he would wake up late from his sleep, and naturally have breakfast late, the reason for this delay in sleep was that he would review - after returning from his night out - what he had composed of poetry throughout his day.

Another example of this selfishness, Hussein recalls: "When we were in Europe, and we went to a restaurant, he would get angry at us, at Ali (his brother) and me, when we chose familiar dishes. Instead, in his opinion, we had to choose new, unfamiliar dishes, so he could choose from them the next time, if he liked them. These suggestions of his would spoil the meal for us, because those dishes were "surprises" most of the time. I once got a frog, and of course, I did not eat it, but I abstained from eating any other food, even though it is said that frog tastes like plump pigeon."

If these are some of Hussein's memories of his father Ahmed Shawky, the Prince of Poets, what about the Prince of Poets' memories of his own father?

Through the introduction of "The Shawkiyat" written by Shawky, and published in the first edition in 1898, we can get a glimpse of the nature of the relationship between Ahmed Shawky and his father, and deduce the extent of the father's belief in his son's talent. The father was so keen to collect his son's poems, letters, and sayings in a special file during his studies in France, and even commanded Shawky to print his anthology. Shawky's father directed his son to study laws and statutes and enrolled him in law school, which brought him much good.

After his father's death in 1897, Shawky found amongst his father's papers a lot of scattered verse and prose, some of it published, some not, some written in ink, and others in pencil, all written by the late father's hand. He wrapped it in a piece of paper on which he wrote this statement: "This is what I managed to collect of the sayings of my son Ahmed while he was seeking knowledge in Europe. I felt as if I was seeing him. And I command him to gather it, then publish it to people, because after me, there will be no one to take care of his affairs, and perhaps after him, there will be no one interested in poetry and literature."

Shawqi's father took great care of what his son wrote, both in poetry and prose. Without such care, much of what Shawqi wrote in his youth and adolescence may have been lost.

Shawqi's father spoke about his son much earlier. Sheikh Ali Al-Laithi - who was the most noble of his contemporaries - told Shawqi that he had met his father while Shawqi was still in his mother's womb. The father shared a dream he had seen with Al-Laithi, to which the Sheikh humorously responded, "A son will be born to you who will create a tear - as people say - in Islam."

It happened that Shawqi visited Sheikh Al-Laithi on his deathbed, and in the poet's hand was a copy of the newspaper "Al-Ahram", which included one of his poems. Seeing this, Sheikh Al-Laithi initiated the conversation by saying, "This is the interpretation of your father's vision, Shawqi. By Allah, no one in Islam has ever said this before." Shawqi inquired, "And what is that, my master?" He replied, "Your poem in the description of (the cup) which says at the beginning:

Its edge is adorned by pearls ** it is silver that turned gold

Shawqi responded, "Here it is in my hands, I'm reading it, I seek refuge in Allah, and I said to him: Praise be to Allah who made this the 'tear', and Islam has not harmed me in any way."

Shawqi mentions that his father inherited a comfortable fortune from his grandfather (Shawqi's grandfather) but: "My father squandered it in the intoxication of youth, then lived by his work, not regretting nor deprived, and I lived in his shadow, hearing of his abundant provision, but I do not see myself in hardship to lament that abundance. It was as if he had seen for me, as he had seen for himself before, that I should not eat from the remnants of the dead."

As fate would have it, his father died at the same time as Khadija, Shawqi's wife, gave birth to their daughter Amina. The poet was torn, should he weep in anticipation of Amina, or in farewell to his father? So he says:

Death rushes towards my father ** and birth is difficult for my wife

And the heart between them is perplexed ** from a place of captivity to a place of freedom

Until dawn appeared, my father departed ** and after the hardship, my daughter arrived

Shawqi speaks about the last days of his father: "My father lingered in his last illness for about a year, and I was in pain for him, frowning in thought, sparing no effort or money, I gave everything within my power for his comfort, and I left no famous doctor whose door I did not knock myself, and everyone examined him thoroughly, but they were always different in diagnosing the disease.

On one occasion, seven doctors gathered, led by Comanos Pasha – who always treated him – they all agreed that his disease was in the intestines, which slightly affected the liver, and that he needed to be moved to a suburb like Zaytoun or New Egypt. As my father was in the last stages of weakness and sickness, they advised me to choose a vehicle with soft seats and a smooth ride for the transfer, and the only vehicles available at that time were horse-drawn carriages, so I followed their advice.

On the same day, I found a house in Zaytoun, and prepared a room filled with sun and air for my father, then I quickly returned home, taking the carriage on my way, and then we carried my father to it, and I stayed with him in it, and since I was following the doctors' advice on the trip, we covered the journey in three hours, from our house in Hanafi to Zaytoun. After twenty days, Comanos Pasha examined him, taking more than an hour for the examination. Then he took his carriage, but he returned to us with his bag after an hour, requesting another examination. He then took out something resembling a rectangular needle and inserted it into my father's right side. It wasn't long before he said, "We were all mistaken. The disease was nothing but an abscess in the liver, and its decay has reached the end. I don't think your father will survive for many more days." I was almost shocked by this statement, still believing that I had brought him the most famous doctors of that time.

When he died, I said:

I am from the dead and from the dead, I am ** death encountered both of us twice

We were a soul in a body ** then we became a soul in two bodies

Then we became a soul in a body again ** then we find a body in two shrouds

My father was nothing but a brother I parted from ** his love was genuine, and the love of people, who knows?

We often sat at a table ** where the loaf was split in two

We drank from one pot ** and then we washed our hands in it

We walked hand in hand ** anyone who saw us said.. brothers

And when I die and am buried in the soil ** will we find one grave or two?