Collected Poetical Works of Kahlil Gibran

by Kahlil Gibran

  They say I am in league with Him, and that our design is to urge the people to rise and revolt against the kingdom of Judea.

  I answer, and would that I had flames for words: if they deem this pit of iniquity a kingdom, let it fall into destruction and be no more. Let it go the way Sodom and Gomorrah, and let this race be forgotten by God, and this land be turned to ashes.

  Aye, behind these prison walls I am indeed an ally to Jesus of Nazareth, and He shall lead my armies, horse and foot. And I myself, though a captain, am not worthy to loose the strings of His sandals.

  Go to Him and repeat my words, and then in my name beg Him for comfort and blessing.

  I shall not be here long. At night ‘twixt waking and waking I feel slow feet with measured steps treading above this body. And when I hearken, I hear the rain falling upon my grave.

  Go to Jesus, and say that John of Kedron whose soul is filled with shadows and then emptied again, prays for Him, while the grave-digger stands close by, and the swordman outstretches his hand for his wages.

  JOSEPH OF ARIMATHEA

  On the Primal Aims of Jesus

  You would know the primal aim of Jesus, and I would fain tell you. But none can touch with fingers the life of the blessed wine, nor see the sap that feeds the branches.

  And though I have eaten of the grapes and have tasted the new vintage at the winepress, I cannot tell you all.

  I can only relate what I know of Him.

  Our Master and our Beloved lived but three prophet’s seasons. They were the spring of His song, the summer of His ecstasy, and the autumn of His passion; and each season was a thousand years.

  The spring of His song was spent in Galilee. It was there that He gathered His lovers about Him, and it was on the shores of the blue lake that He first spoke of the Father, and of our release and our freedom.

  By the Lake of Galilee we lost ourselves to find our way to the Father; and oh, the little loss that turned to such gain.

  It was there the angels sang in our ears and bade us leave the arid land for the garden of heart’s desire.

  He spoke of fields and green pastures; of the slopes of Lebanon where the white lilies are heedless of the caravans passing in the dust of the valley.

  He spoke of the wild brier that smiles in the sun and yields its incense to the passing breeze.

  And He would say, “The lilies and the brier live but a day, yet that day is eternity spent in freedom.”

  And one evening as we sat beside the stream He said, “Behold the brook and listen to its music. Forever shall it seek the sea, and though it is for ever seeking, it sings its mystery from noon to noon.

  “Would that you seek the Father as the brook seeks the sea.”

  Then came the summer of His ecstasy, and the June of His love was upon us. He spoke of naught then but the other man – the neighbour, the road-fellow, the stranger, and our childhood’s playmates.

  He spoke of the traveller journeying from the east to Egypt, of the ploughman coming home with his oxen at eventide, of the chance guest led by dusk to our door.

  And He would say, “Your neighbour is your unknown self made visible. His face shall be reflected in your still waters, and if you gaze therein you shall behold your own countenance.

  “Should you listen in the night, you shall hear him speak, and his words shall be the throbbing of your own heart.

  “Be unto him that which you would have him be unto you.

  “This is my law, and I shall say it unto you, and unto your children, and they unto their children until time is spent and generations are no more.”

  And on another day He said, “You shall not be yourself alone. You are in the deeds of other men, and they though unknowing are with you all your days.

  “They shall not commit a crime and your hand not be with their hand.

  “They shall not fall down but that you shall also fall down; and they shall not rise but that you shall rise with them.

  “Their road to the sanctuary is your road, and when they seek the wasteland you too seek with them.

  “You and your neighbour are two seeds sown in the field. Together you grow and together you shall sway in the wind. And neither of you shall claim the field. For a seed on its way to growth claims not even its own ecstasy.

  “Today I am with you. Tomorrow I go westward; but ere I go, I say unto you that your neighbour is your unknown self made visible. Seek him in love that you may know yourself, for only in that knowledge shall you become my brothers.”

  Then came the autumn of His passion.

  And He spoke to us of freedom, even as He had spoken in Galilee in the spring of His song; but now His words sought our deeper understanding.

  He spoke of leaves that sing only when blown upon the wind; and of man as a cup filled by the ministering angel of the day to quench the thirst of another angel. Yet whether that cup is full or empty it shall stand crystalline upon the board of the Most High.

  He said, “You are the cup and you are the wine. Drink yourselves to the dregs; or else remember me and you shall be quenched.”

  And on our way to the southward He said, “Jerusalem, which stands in pride upon the height, shall descend to the depth of Jahannum the dark valley, and in the midst of her desolation I shall stand alone.

  “The temple shall fall to dust, and around the portico you shall hear the cry of widows and orphans; and men in their haste to escape shall not know the faces of their brothers, for fear shall be upon them all.

  “But even there, if two of you shall meet and utter my name and look to the west, you shall see me, and these my words shall again visit your ears.”

  And when we reached the hill of Bethany, He said, “Let us go to Jerusalem. The city awaits us. I will enter the gate riding upon a colt, and I will speak to the multitude.

  “Many are there who would chain me, and many who would put out my flame, but in my death you shall find life and you shall be free.

  “They shall seek the breath that hovers betwixt heart and mind as the swallow hovers between the field and his nest. But my breath has already escaped them, and they shall not overcome me.

  “The walls that my Father has built around me shall not fall down, and the acre He has made holy shall not be profaned.

  “When the dawn shall come, the sun will crown my head and I shall be with you to face the day. And that day shall be long, and the world shall not see its eventide.

  “The scribes and the Pharisees say the earth is thirsty for my blood. I would quench the thirst of the earth with my blood. But the drops shall rise oak trees and maple, and the east shall carry the acorns to other lands.”

  And then He said, “Judea would have a king, and she would march against the legions of Rome.

  “I shall not be her king. The diadems of Zion were fashioned for lesser brows. And the ring of Solomon is small for this finger.

  “Behold my hand. See you not that it is over-strong to hold a sceptre, and over-sinewed to wield a common sword?

  “Nay, I shall not command Syrian flesh against Roman. But you with my words shall wake that city, and my spirit shall speak to her second dawn.

  “My words shall be an invisible army with horses and chariots, and without axe or spear I shall conquer the priests of Jerusalem, and the Caesars.

  “I shall not sit upon a throne where slaves have sat and ruled other slaves. Nor will I rebel against the sons of Italy.

  “But I shall be a tempest in their sky, and a song in their soul.

  “And I shall be remembered.

  “They shall call me Jesus the Anointed.”

  These things He said outside the walls of Jerusalem before He entered the city.

  And His words are graven as with chisels.

  NATHANIEL

  Jesus was not Meek

  They say that Jesus of Nazareth was humble and meek.

  They say that though He was a just man and righteous, He was a weakling, and was often confounded by the strong and the powerful; and
that when He stood before men of authority He was but a lamb among lions.

  But I say Jesus had authority over men, and that He knew His power and proclaimed it among the hills of Galilee, and in the cities of Judea and Phoenicia.

  What man yielding and soft would say, “I am life, and I am the way to truth” ?

  What man meek and lowly would say, “I am in God, our Father; and our God, the Father, is in me” ?

  What man unmindful of His own strength would say, “He who believes not in me believes not in this life nor in the life everlasting” ?

  What man uncertain of tomorrow would proclaim, “Your world shall pass away and be naught but scattered ashes ere my words shall pass away” ?

  Was He doubtful of Himself when He said to those who would confound Him with a harlot, “He who is without sin, let him cast a stone” ?

  Did He fear authority when He drove the money-changers from the court of the temple, though they were licensed by the priests?

  Were His wings shorn when He cried aloud, “My kingdom is above your earthly kingdoms” ?

  Was He seeking shelter in words when He repeated again and yet again, “Destroy this temple and I will rebuild it in three days” ?

  Was it a coward who shook His hand in the face of the authorities and pronounced them “liars, low, filthy, and degenerate” ?

  Shall a man bold enough to say these things to those who ruled Judea be deemed meek and humble?

  Nay. The eagle builds not his nest in the weeping willow. And the lion seeks not his den among the ferns.

  I am sickened and the bowels within me stir and rise when I hear the faint-hearted call Jesus humble and meek, that they may justify their own faint-heartedness; and when the downtrodden, for comfort and companionship, speak of Jesus as a worm shining by their side.

  Yea, my heart is sickened by such men. It is the mighty hunter I would preach, and the mountainous spirit unconquerable.

  SABA OF ANTIOCH

  On Saul of Tarsus

  This day I heard Saul of Tarsus preaching the Christ unto the Jews of this city.

  He calls himself Paul now, the apostle to the Gentiles.

  I knew him in my youth, and in those days he persecuted the friends of the Nazarene. Well do I remember his satisfaction when his fellows stoned the radiant youth called Stephen.

  This Paul is indeed a strange man. His souls is not the soul of a free man.

  At times he seems like an animal in the forest, hunted and wounded, seeking a cave wherein he would hide his pain from the world.

  He speaks not of Jesus, nor does he repeat His words. He preaches the Messiah whom the prophets of old had foretold.

  And though he himself is a learned Jew he addresses his fellow Jews in Greek; and his Greek is halting, and he ill chooses his words.

  But he is a man of hidden powers and his presence is affirmed by those who gather around him. And at times he assures them of what he himself is not assured.

  We who knew Jesus and heard his discourses say that He taught man how to break the chains of his bondage that he might be free from his yesterdays.

  But Paul is forging chains for the man of tomorrow. He would strike with his own hammer upon the anvil in the name of one whom he does not know.

  The Nazarene would have us live the hour in passion and ecstasy.

  The man of Tarsus would have us be mindful of laws recorded in the ancient books.

  Jesus gave His breath to the breathless dead. And in my lone nights I believe and I understand.

  When He sat at the board, He told stories that gave happiness to the feasters, and spiced with His joy the meat and the wine.

  But Paul would prescribe our loaf and our cup.

  Suffer me not to turn my eyes the other way.

  SALOME TO A WOMAN FRIEND

  A Desire Unfulfilled

  He was like poplars shimmering in the sun;

  And like a lake among the lonely hills,

  Shining in the sun;

  And like snow upon the mountain heights,

  White, white in the sun.

  Yea, He was like unto all these,

  And I loved Him.

  Yet I feared His presence.

  And my feet would not carry my burden of love

  That I might girdle His feet with my arms.

  I would have said to Him,

  “I have slain your friend in an hour of passion.

  Will you forgive me my sin?

  And will you not in mercy release my youth

  From its blind deed,

  That it may walk in your light?”

  I know He would have forgiven my dancing

  For the saintly head of His friend.

  I know He would have seen in me

  An object of His own teaching.

  For there was no valley of hunger He could not bridge,

  And no desert of thirst He could not cross.

  Yea, He was even as the poplars,

  And as the lakes among the hills,

  And like snow upon Lebanon.

  And I would have cooled my lips in the folds of His garment.

  But He was far from me,

  And I was ashamed.

  And my mother held me back

  When the desire to seek Him was upon me.

  Whenever He passed by, my heart ached for his loveliness,

  But my mother frowned at Him in contempt,

  And would hasten me from the window

  To my bedchamber.

  And she would cry aloud saying,

  “Who is He but another locust-eater from the desert?

  What is He but a scoffer and a renegade,

  A seditious riot-monger, who would rob us of sceptre and crown,

  And bid the foxes and the jackals of His accursed land

  Howl in our halls and sit upon our throne?

  Go hide your face from this day,

  And await the day when His head shall fall down,

  But not upon your platter.”

  These things my mother said.

  But my heart would not keep her words.

  I loved Him in secret,

  And my sleep was girdled with flames.

  He is gone now.

  And something that was in me is gone also.

  Perhaps it was my youth

  That would not tarry here,

  Since the God of youth was slain.

  RACHAEL A WOMAN DISCIPLE

  On Jesus the Vision and the Man

  I often wonder whether Jesus was a man of flesh and blood like ourselves, or a thought without a body, in the mind, or an idea that visits the vision of man.

  Often it seems to me that He was but a dream dreamed by the countless men and women at the same time in a sleep deeper than sleep and a dawn more serene than all dawns.

  And it seems that in relating the dream, the one to the other, we began to deem it a reality that had indeed come to pass; and in giving it body of our fancy and a voice of our longing we made it a substance of our own substance.

  But in truth He was not a dream. We knew Him for three years and beheld Him with our open eyes in the high tide of noon.

  We touched His hands, and we followed Him from one place to another. We heard His discourses and witnessed His deeds. Think you that we were a thought seeking after more thought, or a dream in the region of dreams?

  Great events always seem alien to our daily lives, though their nature may be rooted in our nature. But though they appear sudden in their coming and sudden in their passing, their true span is for years and for generations.

  Jesus of Nazareth was Himself the Great Event. That man whose father and mother and brothers we know, was Himself a miracle wrought in Judea. Yea, all His own miracles, if placed at His feet, would not rise to the height of His ankles.

  And all the rivers of all the years shall not carry away our remembrance of Him.

  He was a mountain burning in the night, yet He was a soft glow beyond the hills. He was a tempest in the sky, yet He
was a murmur in the mist of daybreak.

  He was a torrent pouring from the heights to the plains to destroy all things in its path. And He was like the laughter of children.

  Every year I had waited for spring to visit this valley. I had waited for the lilies and the cyclamen, and then every year my soul had been saddened within me; for ever I longed to rejoice with the spring, yet I could not.

  But when Jesus came to my seasons He was indeed a spring, and in Him was the promise of all the years to come. He filled my heart with joy; and like the violets I grew, a shy thing, in the light of His coming.

  And now the changing seasons of worlds not yet ours shall not erase His loveliness from this our world.

  Nay, Jesus was not a phantom, nor a conception of the poets. He was man like yourself and myself. But only to sight and touch and hearing; in all other ways He was unlike us.

  He was a man of joy; and it was upon the path of joy that He met the sorrows of all men. And it was from the high roofs of His sorrows that He beheld the joy of all men.

  He saw visions that we did not see, and heard voices that we did not hear; and He spoke as if to invisible multitudes, and ofttimes He spoke through us to races yet unborn.

  And Jesus was often alone. He was among us yet not one with us. He was upon the earth, yet He was of the sky. And only in our aloneness may we visit the land of His aloneness.

  He loved us with tender love. His heart was a winepress. You and I could approach with a cup and drink therefrom.

  One thing I did not use to understand in Jesus: He would make merry with His listeners; He would tell jests and play upon words, and laugh with all the fullness of His heart, even when there were distances in His eyes and sadness in His voice. But I understand now.

  I often think of the earth as a woman heavy with her first child. When Jesus was born, He was the first child. And when He died, He was the first man to die.

  For did it not appear to you that the earth was stilled on that dark Friday, and the heavens were at war with the heavens?

  And felt you not when His face disappeared from our sight as if we were naught but memories in the mist?