If you've heard any Arabic music at all, you already have a small Egyptian vocabulary. Most of it is about love. That's fine, because a lot of Egyptian conversation is affectionate too.
In every love song
is my love, to a man. is to a woman. Off stage it's worn right down. Taxi drivers use it on you. Our guide to what Egyptians call you has the full set.
ya 'albi is my heart. The ' is the Cairo q, a catch in the throat. It's a term of endearment, and also what you say when something small and sweet happens.
ya 3eeni is my eye. It sounds odd in English and it's one of the warmest things you can say. It's for a kid who did something adorable.
3omri is my life. 'enta 3omri, you are my life, is Umm Kulthum's most famous song and the words will follow you round Cairo on café radios.
wa7ashtini is I missed you, said to a man. To a woman it's wa7ashteeni. It's what you say at the airport.
The ones you hum
tamalli ma3aak is always with you. It's the title of an Amr Diab song from 2000, and the phrase itself is ordinary Egyptian: tamalli is always, ma3aak is with you.
ya layl is oh night. Half of Arabic music starts with it. It's the singer's warm-up, and it's also a sigh you'll hear from someone settling into a long evening.
noor 3eeni is light of my eye. Parents say it to children.
ya salaam is wow. Word for word it's oh peace, and it's the sound of someone impressed. A plate arrives, ya salaam. The view opens up, ya salaam.
'allaah, stretched out, is beautiful. Said long and slow in a concert it's applause. Said at the table it means the food is very good.
Where to hear them
Any Umm Kulthum or Amr Diab track will have most of these inside ten minutes. Listen for 7abibi first.