The Treasured Writings of Kahlil Gibran

by Kahlil Gibran

  “In what season of the year do you not lament yourselves? Is it in Spring, when nature puts on her beautiful dress and you go to meet her with tattered raiment? Or in Summer, when you harvest the wheat and gather the sheaves of corn and fill the shelves of your master with the crop, and when the reckoning comes you receive naught but hay and tare? Is it in Autumn, when you pick the fruits and carry the grapes into the wine-press, and in reward for your toil you receive a jar of vinegar and a bushel of acorns? Or in Winter, when you are confined to your huts laden with snow, do you sit by the fire and tremble when the enraged sky urges you to escape from your weak minds?

  “This is the life of the poor; this is the perpetual cry I hear. This is what makes my spirit revolt against the oppressors and despise their conduct. When I asked the monks to have mercy upon you, they thought that I was an atheist, and expulsion was my lot. Today I came here to share this miserable life with you, and to mix my tears with yours. Here I am now, in the grip of your worst enemy. Do you realize that this land you are working like slaves was taken from your fathers when the law was written on the sharp edge of the sword? The monks deceived your ancestors and took all their fields and vineyards when the religious rules were written on the lips of the priests. Which man or woman is not influenced by the lord of the fields to do according to the will of the priests? God said, ‘With the sweat of thy brow, thou shall eat thy bread.’ But Sheik Abbas is eating his bread baked in the years of your lives and drinking his wine mixed with your tears. Did God distinguish this man from the rest of you while in his mother’s womb? Or is it your sin that made you his property? Jesus said, ‘Gratis you have taken and gratis you shall give.… Do not possess gold, nor silver, neither copper.’ Then what teachings allow the clergymen to sell their prayers for pieces of gold and silver? In the silence of the night you pray saying, ‘Give us today our daily bread.’ God has given you this land from which to draw your daily bread, but what authority has He given the monks to take this land and this bread away from you?

  “You curse Judas because he sold his Master for a few pieces of silver, but you bless those who sell Him every day. Judas repented and hanged himself for his wrongdoing, but these priests walk proudly, dressed with beautiful robes, resplendent with shining crosses hanging over their chests. You teach your children to love Christ and at the same time you instruct them to obey those who oppose His teachings and violate His law.

  “The apostles of Christ were stoned to death in order to revive in you the Holy Spirit, but the monks and the priests are killing that spirit in you so they may live on your pitiful bounty. What persuades you to live such a life in this universe, full of misery and oppression? What prompts you to kneel before that horrible idol which has been erected upon the bones of your fathers? What treasure are you reserving for your posterity?

  “Your souls are in the grip of the priests, and your bodies are in the closing jaws of the rulers. What thing in life can you point at and say ‘this is mine!’ My fellowmen, do you know the priest you fear? He is a traitor who uses the Gospel as a threat to ransom your money … a hypocrite wearing a cross and using it as a sword to cut your veins … a wolf disguised in lambskin … a glutton who respects the tables more than the altars … a gold-hungry creature who follows the Denar to the farthest land … a cheat pilfering from widows and orphans. He is a queer being, with an eagle’s beak, a tiger’s clutches, a hyena’s teeth and a viper’s clothes. Take the Book away from him and tear his raiment off and pluck his beard and do whatever you wish unto him; then place in his hand one Denar, and he will forgive you smilingly.

  “Slap his face and spit on him and step on his neck; then invite him to sit at your board. He will immediately forget and untie his belt and gladly fill his stomach with your food.

  “Curse him and ridicule him; then send him a jar of wine or a basket of fruit. He will forgive you your sins. When he sees a woman, he turns his face, saying, ‘Go from me, Oh, daughter of Babylon.’ Then he whispers to himself saying, ‘Marriage is better than coveting.’ He sees the young men and women walking in the procession of Love, and he lifts his eyes toward heaven and says, ‘Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.’ And in his solitude he talks to himself saying, ‘May the laws and traditions that deny me the joys of life, be abolished.’

  “He preaches to the people saying, ‘Judge not, lest ye be judged.’ But he judges all those who abhor his deeds and sends them to hell before Death separates them from this life.

  “When he talks he lifts his head toward heaven, but at the same time, his thoughts are crawling like snakes through your pockets.

  “He addresses you as beloved children, but his heart is empty of paternal love, and his lips never smile at a child, nor does he carry an infant between his arms.

  “He tells you, while shaking his head, ‘Let us keep away from earthly things, for life passes like a cloud.’ But if you look thoroughly at him, you will find that he is gripping on to life, lamenting the passing of yesterday, condemning the speed of today, and waiting fearfully for tomorrow.

  “He asks you for charity when he has plenty to give; if you grant his request, he will bless you publicly, and if you refuse him, he will curse you secretly.

  “In the temple he asks you to help the needy, and about his house the needy are begging for bread, but he cannot see or hear.

  “He sells his prayers, and he who does not buy is an infidel, excommunicated from Paradise.

  “This is the creature of whom you are afraid. This is the monk who sucks your blood. This is the priest who makes the sign of the Cross with the right hand, and clutches your throat with the left hand.

  “This is the pastor whom you appoint as your servant, but he appoints himself as your master.

  “This is the shadow that embraces your souls from birth until death.

  “This is the man who came to judge me tonight because my spirit revolted against the enemies of Jesus the Nazarene Who loved all and called us brothers, and Who died on the Cross for us.”

  Khalil felt that there was understanding in the villagers’ hearts; his voice brightened and he resumed his discourse saying, “Brethren, you know that Sheik Abbas has been appointed as Master of this village by Emir Shehab, the Sultan’s representative and Governor of the Province, but I ask you if anyone has seen that power appoint the Sultan as the god of this country. That Power, my fellowmen, cannot be seen, nor can you hear it talk, but you can feel its existence in the depths of your hearts. It is that Power which you worship and pray for every day saying, ‘Our Father which art in heaven.’ Yes, your Father Who is in heaven is the one Who appoints kings and princes, for He is powerful and above all. But do you think that your Father, Who loved you and showed you the right path through His prophets, desires for you to be oppressed? Do you believe that God, Who brings forth the rain from heaven, and the wheat from the hidden seeds in the heart of the earth, desires for you to be hungry in order that but one man will enjoy His bounty? Do you believe that the Eternal Spirit Who reveals to you the wife’s love, the children’s pity and the neighbor’s mercy, would have upon you a tyrant to enslave you through your life? Do you believe that the Eternal Law that made life beautiful, would send you a man to deny you of that happiness and lead you into the dark dungeon of painful Death? Do you believe that your physical strength, provided you by nature, belongs beyond your body to the rich?

  “You cannot believe in all these things, because if you do you will be denying the justice of God who made us all equal, and the light of Truth that shines upon all peoples of the earth. What makes you struggle against yourselves, heart against body, and help those who enslave you while God has created you free on this earth?

  “Are you doing yourselves justice when you lift your eyes towards Almighty God and call him Father, and then turn around, bow your heads before a man, and call him Master?

  “Are you contented, as sons of God, with being slaves of man? Did not Christ call you brethren? Yet Sheik Abbas calls you servants.
Did not Jesus make you free in Truth and Spirit? Yet the Emir made you slaves of shame and corruption. Did not Christ exalt you to heaven? Then why are you descending to hell? Did He not enlighten your hearts? Then why are you hiding your souls in darkness? God has placed a glowing torch in your hearts that glows in knowledge and beauty, and seeks the secrets of the days and nights; it is a sin to extinguish that torch and bury it in ashes. God has created your spirits with wings to fly in the spacious firmament of Love and Freedom; it is pitiful that you cut your wings with your own hands and suffer your spirits to crawl like insects upon the earth.”

  Sheik Abbas observed in dismay the attentive-ness of the villagers, and attempted to interrupt, but Khalil, inspired, continued, “God has sown in your hearts the seeds of Happiness; it is a crime that you dig those seeds out and throw them wilfully on the rocks so the wind will scatter them and the birds will pick them. God has given you children to rear, to teach them the truth and fill their hearts with the most precious things of existence. He wants you to bequeath upon them the joy of Life and the bounty of Life; why are they now strangers to their place of birth and cold creatures before the face of the Sun? A father who makes his son a slave is the father who gives his child a stone when he asks for bread. Have you not seen the birds of the sky training their young ones to fly? Why, then, do you teach your children to drag the shackles of slavery? Have you not seen the flowers of the valleys deposit their seeds in the sun-heated earth? Then why do you commit your children to the cold darkness?”

  Silence prevailed for a moment, and it seemed as if Khalil’s mind were crowded with pain. But now with a low and compelling voice he continued, “The words which I utter tonight are the same expressions that caused my expulsion from the convent. If the lord of your fields and the pastor of your church were to prey upon me and kill me tonight, I will die happy and in peace because I have fulfilled my mission and revealed to you the Truth which demons consider a crime. I have now completed the will of Almighty God.”

  There had been a magic message in Khalil’s voice that forced the villagers’ interest. The women were moved by the sweetness of his words and looked upon him as a messenger of peace, and their eyes were rich with tears.

  Sheik Abbas and Father Elias were shaking with anger. As Khalil finished, he walked a few steps and stopped near Rachel and Miriam. Silence dominated the courtroom, and it seemed as if Khalil’s spirit hovered in that vast hall and diverted the souls of the multitude from fearing Sheik Abbas and Father Elias, who sat trembling in annoyance and guilt.

  The Sheik stood suddenly and his face was pale. He looked toward the men who were standing about him as he said, “What has become of you, dogs? Have your hearts been poisoned? Has your blood stopped running and weakened you so that you cannot leap upon this criminal and cut him to pieces? What awful thing has he done to you?” Having finished reprimanding the men, he raised a sword and started toward the fettered youth, whereupon a strong villager walked to him, gripped his hand and said, “Lay down your weapon, Master, for he who draws the sword to kill, shall, by the sword, be killed!”

  The Sheik trembled visibly and the sword fell from his hand. He addressed the man saying, “Will a weak servant oppose his Master and benefactor?” And the man responded, “The faithful servant does not share his Master in the committing of crimes; this young man has spoken naught but the truth.” Another man stepped forward and assured, “This man is innocent and is worthy of honour and respect.” And a woman raised her voice saying, “He did not swear at God or curse any saint; why do you call him heretic?” And Rachel asked, “What is his crime?” The Sheik shouted, “You are rebellious, you miserable widow; have you forgotten the fate of your husband who turned rebel six years ago?” Upon hearing these impulsive words, Rachel shivered with painful anger, for she had found the murderer of her husband. She choked her tears and looked upon the throng and cried out, “Here is the criminal you have been trying for six years to find; you hear him now confessing his guilt. He is the killer who has been hiding his crime. Look at him and read his face; study him well and observe his fright; he shivers like the last leaf on winter’s tree. God has shown you that the Master whom you have always feared is a murderous criminal. He caused me to be a widow amongst these women, and my daughter an orphan amidst these children.” Rachel’s utterance fell like thunder upon the Sheik’s head, and the uproar of men and exaltation of women fell like firebrands upon him.

  The priest assisted the Sheik to his seat. Then he called the servants and ordered them saying, “Arrest this woman who has falsely accused your Master of killing her husband; drag her and this young man into a dark prison, and any who oppose you will be criminals, excommunicated as he was from the Holy Church.” The servants gave no heed to his command, but remained motionless staring at Khalil who was still bound with rope. Rachel stood at his right and Miriam at his left like a pair of wings ready to soar aloft into the spacious sky of Freedom.

  His beard shaking with anger, Father Elias said, “Are you denying your Master for the sake of an infidel criminal and a shameless adulteress?” And the oldest one of the servants answered him saying, “We have served Sheik Abbas long for bread and shelter, but we have never been his slaves.” Having thus spoken, the servant took off his cloak and turban and threw them before the Sheik and added, “I shall no longer require this raiment, nor do I wish my soul to suffer in the narrow house of a criminal.” And all the servants did likewise and joined the crowd whose faces radiated with joy, symbol of Freedom and Truth. Father Elias finally saw that his authority had declined, and he left the place cursing the hour that brought Khalil to the village. A strong man strode to Khalil and untied his hands, looked at Sheik Abbas who fell like a corpse upon his seat, and boldly addressed him saying, “This fettered youth, whom you have brought here tonight to be tried as a criminal, has lifted our depressed spirits and enlightened our hearts with Truth and Knowledge. And this poor widow whom Father Elias referred to as a false accuser has revealed to us the crime you committed six years past. We came here tonight to witness the trial of an innocent youth and a noble soul. Now, heaven has opened our eyes and has shown us your atrocity; we shall leave you and ignore you and allow heaven to do its will.”

  Many voices were raised in that hall, and one could hear a certain man saying, “Let us leave this ill-famed residence for our homes.” And another one remarking, “Let us follow this young man to Rachel’s home and listen to his wise sayings and consoling wisdom.” And a third one saying, “Let us seek his advice, for he knows our needs.” And a fourth one calling out, “If we are seeking justice, let us complain to the Emir and tell him of Abbas’ crime.” And many were saying, “Let us petition the Emir to appoint Khalil as our Master and ruler, and tell the Bishop that Father Elias was a partner in these crimes.” While the voices were rising and falling upon the Sheik’s ears like sharp arrows, Khalil lifted his hands and calmed the villagers saying, “My brethren, do not seek haste, but rather listen and meditate. I ask you, in the name of my love and friendship for you, not to go to the Emir, for you will not find justice. Remember that a ferocious beast does not snap another one like him, neither should you go to the Bishop, for he knows well that the house cloven amid itself shall be ruined. Do not ask the Emir to appoint me as the Sheik in this village, for the faithful servant does not like to be an aid to the evil Master. If I deserve your kindness and love, let me live amongst you and share with you the happiness and sorrows of Life. Let me join hands and work with you at home and in the fields, for if I could not make myself one of you, I would be a hypocrite who does not live according to his sermon. And now, as the axe is laid unto the root of the tree, let us leave Sheik Abbas alone in the courtroom of his conscience and before the Supreme Court of God whose sun shines upon the innocent and the criminal.”

  Having thus spoken, he left the place, and the multitude followed him as if there were a divine power in him that attracted their hearts. The Sheik remained alone with the terrible s
ilence, like a destroyed tower, suffering his defeat quietly like a surrendering commander. When the multitude reached the church yard and the moon was just showing from behind the cloud, Khalil looked at them with the eyes of love like a good shepherd watching over his herd. He was moved with sympathy upon those villagers who symbolized an oppressed nation; and he stood like a prophet who saw all the nations of the East walking in those valleys and dragging empty souls and heavy hearts.

  He raised both hands toward heaven and said, “From the bottom of these depths we call thee, Oh, Liberty. Give heed to us! From behind the darkness we raise our hands to thee, Oh, Liberty. Look upon us! Upon the snow, we worship before thee, Oh, Liberty. Have mercy on us! Before thy great throne we stand, hanging on our bodies the blood-stained garments of our forefathers, covering our heads with the dust of the graves mixed with their remains, carrying the swords that stabbed their hearts, lifting the spears that pierced their bodies, dragging the chains that slowed their feet, uttering the cry that wounded their throats, lamenting and repeating the song of our failure that echoed throughout the prison, and repeating the prayers that came from the depths of our fathers’ hearts. Listen to us, Oh Liberty, and hear us. From the Nile to the Euphrates comes the wailing of the suffering souls, in unison with the cry of the abyss; and from the end of the East to the mountains of Lebanon, hands are stretched to you, trembling with the presence of Death. From the shores of the sea to the end of the desert, tear-flooded eyes look beseechingly toward you. Come, Oh Liberty, and save us.