Lament of Kakepper

FRONT

The collection of words, the string of sentences, the search for explanations, by a priest of Heliopolis, Seni Kakepper-Sunba, called Anku.

He says: I seek the unspoken words, strange phrases, new words free of repetition, not the old words of our forefathers. I'll drain my body dry, releasing all my words. What was said is rote repetition, when it is said again. The father's words are nothing for the son to brag about.

The speaker has not yet spoken. Now he will speak, to be heard by the reader. I will not tell of what was, this has all been done before. Nor will I prophesize, that is all vain lies, the future is immaterial and empty. I say this as a man who sees.

The first generation and all who came after, they imitate the past. To relearn and remember the past, sharing my stories with my heart, unloading on my heart, to take the load off my shoulders, now my burdens can understand my suffering and rest.

I think about our country, what was and is. It changes and is not like last year. Each year more troubles, the land ripped up, destroyed. Order has fled, justice is evil. The city and the country suffer, everyone wronged. People are shameless, casting out the ancestors. But every day the dawn still comes, the Sun is blinding.

I rise to speak, my body falls. My heart is blind, I am called to explain. Hearts beat firm amid distress, faithful to their lords. If my heart endures the pain it can support me, listening to my complaints, understanding my suffering.

BACK

He said to his heart: Come, I speak to you. Give me insight, unravel what is upon the land, why the bright ones are low down.

I think about what is. The troubles of today are deep rooted. Everyone is silent, the whole country suffering. No one is straight, all hearts are greedy. The orderers are now ordered, every heart submits. The Sun rises to ignorance, yesterday anew. Who is wise to know, or taken to complain? Every day I wake to suffering, and my toil is long. The soul is weak against the powerful people. Silence hurts, the ignorant are deaf. They hate words and lie in their hearts. They love only their own crooked words and forget right speech.

I spoke to my heart for an answer, the heart loves this. Servant or master, much rests on you.

At the top is “Kaaper” or Kakepper the scribe, from 2500 BC, discovered about 1850 AD. It’s a full body statue in wood, but only 3.5 feet tall. So it’s more detailed than one might think, as one naturally assumes it’s lifesize. In the Cairo Museum. Written on a board about 12” by 18”, meant to be hung on the wall with two holes for a string, presumably the front forward, which is more mild. The backside is almost seditous. From about 1000 BC.

The front of the writing board. Line 9 says, “My burdens know my suffering and rest.”