«اِمْشِي سَنَهْ وَلَا تْخَطِّي قَنَهْ»

At heart this is advice about weighing effort against hazard. The speaker would gladly accept enormous inconvenience, pictured as an absurdly long stretch of time on the road, rather than take on any exposure to harm, however slight that harm may seem.

The pairing is deliberately lopsided: a whole year set against a narrow ditch of water. That exaggeration makes the lesson stick, implying that modest-looking dangers still deserve respect and that a shortcut loses all value once it puts personal safety in doubt.

Suited to moments when someone is drawn toward a quick but uncertain shortcut, the proverb steers them back to the slower, dependable choice. It fits counsel that ranks caution above convenience, especially where a risk that looks minor could still bring serious consequences.