Treasury of Kahlil Gibran

by Kahlil Gibran

Invade our peace. The seed which

  The ripe date contains in its

  Heart is the secret of the palm

  Tree from the beginning of all

  Creation.

  Give me the flute and let me sing,

  And through my soul let music ring;

  For music is a heart that grows

  With love, and like the spring it flows.

  Age: Death is an ending to the son of

  The earth, but to the soul it is

  The start, the triumph of life.

  He who embraces the dawn of truth

  With his inner eyes will ever be

  Ecstatic, like the murmuring brook,

  But he who slumbers through the

  Light of heaven’s day must perish

  In the eternal darkness he loves.

  If to earth one clings when awake,

  And if he caresses Nature who is

  Close to God, then this child of

  God will cross the valley of death

  As though crossing but a narrow

  Stream.

  Youth: There is no death in the good

  Field, or graves for burial or

  Prayers to read. When Nisan

  Departs, the joy continues to

  Live, for death removes but the

  Touch, and not the awareness of

  All good. And he who has lived

  One spring or more possesses the

  Spiritual life of one who has

  Lived a score of springs.

  Give me the flute and let me sing,

  And through my soul let music ring;

  For music opens the secret of life,

  Bringing peace, abolishing strife.

  Age: The field has much, man has but

  Little. Man is the spirit of his

  Creator on earth, and all of the

  Field is made for man, but man by

  His own choice flees from the nearby

  Love and Beauty of God which is the

  Beautiful field.

  Youth: Give me the flute and let me sing;

  Forget what we said about everything.

  Talk is dust, speckling the

  Ether and losing itself in the vast

  Firmament. What have you done that

  Is good? Why do you not adopt the

  Field as your heavenly shelter? Why

  Do you not desert the palace of the

  Noisome city and climb the knolls and

  Pursue the stream, and breathe of the

  Fragrance, and revel with the sun?

  Why do you not drink dawn’s wine from

  Her great cup of wisdom, and ponder

  The clusters of fine fruit of the

  Vine, hanging like golden chandeliers?

  Why do you not fashion a blanket of

  The endless sky, and a bed of the

  Flowers from which to view the land

  Of God? Why do you not renounce the

  Future and forget the past? Have you

  No desire to live as you were born

  To live?

  Banish your misery and leave all

  Things of substance, for society

  Is of naught but clamour and woe

  And strife. She is but the web of

  The spider, the tunnel of the mole.

  Nature will greet you as one of

  Her own, and all that is good will

  Exist for you. The child of the

  Field is the child of God.

  Age: To abide in the field is my hope

  And my longing and my desire, and

  For such life of beauty and peace

  I beg. But the iron will of fate

  Has placed me in the lap of the

  City, and man possesses a destiny

  Which impels his thoughts and

  Actions and words, and that not

  Sufficing, directs his footsteps to

  A place of unwilling abode.

  THE MERMAIDS

  IN THE depths of the sea, surrounding the nearby islands where the sun rises, there is a profoundness. And there, where the pearl exists in abundance, lay a corpse of a youth encircled by sea maidens of long golden hair; they stared upon him with their deep blue eyes, conversing among themselves with musical voices. And the conversation, heard by the depths and conveyed to the shore by the waves, was brought to me by the frolicsome breeze.

  One of them said, “This is a human who entered into our world yesterday, while our sea was raging.”

  And the second one said, “The sea was not raging. Man, who claims that he is a descendant of the Gods, was making iron war, and his blood is being shed until the colour of the water is now crimson; this human is a victim of war.”

  The third one ventured, “I do not know what war is, but I do know that man, after having subdued the land, became aggressive and resolved to subdue the sea. He devised a strange object which carried him upon the seas, whereupon our severe Neptune became enraged over his greed. In order to please Neptune, man commenced offering gifts and sacrifices, and the still body before us is the most recent gift of man to our great and terrible Neptune.”

  The fourth one asserted, “How great is Neptune, and how cruel is his heart! If I were the Sultan of the sea I would refuse to accept such payment.… Come now, and let us examine this ransom. Perhaps we may enlighten ourselves as to the human clan.”

  The mermaids approached the youth, probed the pockets, and found a message close to his heart; one of them read it aloud to the others:

  “My Beloved:

  “Midnight has again come, and I have no consolation except my pouring tears, and naught to comfort me save my hope in your return to me from between the bloody paws of war. I cannot forget your words when you took departure: ‘Every man has a trust of tears which must be returned some day.’

  “I know not what to say, My Beloved, but my soul will pour itself into parchment … my soul that suffers through separation, but is consoled by Love that renders pain a joy, and sorrow a happiness. When Love unified our hearts, and we looked to the day when our two hearts would be joined by the mighty breath of God. War shouted her horrible call and you followed her, prompted by your duty to the leaders.

  “What is this duty that separates the lovers, and causes the women to become widows, and the children to become orphans? What is this patriotism which provokes wars and destroys kingdoms through trifles? And what cause can be more than trifling when compared to but one life? What is this duty which invites poor villagers, who are looked upon as nothing by the strong and by the sons of the inherited nobility, to die for the glory of their oppressors? If duty destroys peace among nations, and patriotism disturbs the tranquility of man’s life, then let us say, ‘Peace be with duty and patriotism.’

  “No, no, My Beloved! Heed not my words! Be courageous and faithful to your country.…Hearken not unto the talk of a damsel, blinded by Love, and lost through farewell and aloneness.… If Love will not restore you to me in this life, then Love will surely join us in the coming life.

  Your Forever”

  The mermaids replaced the note under the youth’s raiment and swam silently and sorrowfully away. As they gathered together at a distance from the body of the dead soldier, one of them said, “The human heart is more severe than the cruel heart of Neptune.”

  THE AMBITIOUS VIOLET

  THERE was a beautiful and fragrant violet who lived placidly amongst her friends, and swayed happily amidst the other flowers in a solitary garden. One morning, as her crown was embellished with beads of dew, she lifted her head and looked about; she saw a tall and handsome rose standing proudly and reaching high into space, like a burning torch upon an emerald lamp.

  The violet opened her blue lips and said, “What an unfortunate am I among these flowers, and how humble is the position I occupy in their presence! Nature has fashioned me to be short and poor.… I live very close to the earth and I cannot raise my head toward the blue sky, or turn my face to the
sun, as the roses do.”

  And the rose heard her neighbour’s words; she laughed and commented, “How strange is your talk! You are fortunate, and yet you cannot understand your fortune. Nature has bestowed upon you fragrance and beauty which she did not grant to any other.… Cast aside your thoughts and be contented, and remember that he who humbles himself will be exalted, and he who exalts himself will be crushed.”

  The violet answered, “You are consoling me because you have that which I crave.… You seek to embitter me with the meaning that you are great.… How painful is the preaching of the fortunate to the heart of the miserable! And how severe is the strong when he stands as advisor among the weak!”

  And Nature heard the conversation of the violet and the rose; she approached and said, “What has happened to you, my daughter violet? You have been humble and sweet in all your deeds and words. Has greed entered your heart and numbed your senses?” In a pleading voice, the violet answered her, saying, “Oh great and merciful mother, full of love and sympathy, I beg you, with all my heart and soul, to grant my request and allow me to be a rose for one day.”

  And Nature responded, “You know not what you are seeking; you are unaware of the concealed disaster behind your blind ambition. If you were a rose you would be sorry, and repentance would avail you but naught.” The violet insisted, “Change me into a tall rose, for I wish to lift my head high with pride; and regardless of my fate, it will be my own doing.” Nature yielded, saying, “Oh ignorant and rebellious violet, I will grant your request. But if calamity befalls you, your complaint must be to yourself.”

  And Nature stretched forth her mysterious and magic fingers and touched the roots of the violet, who immediately turned into a tall rose, rising above all other flowers in the garden.

  At eventide the sky became thick with black clouds, and the raging elements disturbed the silence of existence with thunder, and commenced to attack the garden, sending forth a great rain and strong winds. The tempest tore the branches and uprooted the plants and broke the stems of the tall flowers, sparing only the little ones who grew close to the friendly earth. That solitary garden suffered greatly from the belligerent skies, and when the storm calmed and the sky cleared, all the flowers were laid waste and none of them had escaped the wrath of Nature except the clan of small violets, hiding by the wall of the garden.

  Having lifted her head and viewed the tragedy of the flowers and trees, one of the violet maidens smiled happily and called to her companions, saying, “See what the tempest has done to the haughty flowers!” Another violet said, “We are small, and live close to the earth, but we are safe from the wrath of the skies.” And a third one added, “Because we are poor in height the tempest is unable to subdue us.”

  At that moment the queen of violets saw by her side the converted violet, hurled to earth by the storm and distorted upon the wet grass like a limp soldier in a battle field. The queen of the violets lifted her head and called to her family, saying, “Look, my daughters, and meditate upon that which Greed has done to the violet who became a proud rose for one hour. Let the memory of this scene be a reminder of your good fortune.”

  And the dying rose moved and gathered the remnants of her strength, and quietly said, “You are contented and meek dullards; I have never feared the tempest. Yesterday I, too, was satisfied and contented with Life, but Contentment has acted as a barrier between my existence and the tempest of Life, confining me to a sickly and sluggish peace and tranquility of mind. I could have lived the same life you are living now by clinging with fear to the earth.… I could have waited for winter to shroud me with snow and deliver me to Death, who will surely claim all violets.… I am happy now because I have probed outside my little world into the mystery of the Universe … something which you have not yet done. I could have overlooked Greed, whose nature is higher than mine, but as I hearkened to the silence of the night, I heard the heavenly world talking to this earthly world, saying, ‘Ambition beyond existence is the essential purpose of our being.’ At that moment my spirit revolted and my heart longed for a position higher than my limited existence. I realized that the abyss cannot hear the song of the stars, and at that moment I commenced fighting against my smallness and craving for that which did not belong to me, until my rebelliousness turned into a great power, and my longing into a creating will.… Nature, who is the great object of our deeper dreams, granted my request and changed me into a rose with her magic fingers.”

  The rose became silent for a moment, and in a weakening voice, mingled with pride and achievement, she said, “I have lived one hour as a proud rose; I have existed for a time like a queen; I have looked at the Universe from behind the eyes of the rose; I have heard the whisper of the firmament through the ears of the rose and touched the folds of Light’s garment with rose petals. Is there any here who can claim such honour?” Having thus spoken, she lowered her head, and with a choking voice she gasped, “I shall die now, for my soul has attained its goal. I have finally extended my knowledge to a world beyond the narrow cavern of my birth. This is the design of Life.… This is the secret of Existence.” Then the rose quivered, slowly folded her petals, and breathed her last with a heavenly smile upon her lips… a smile of fulfillment of hope and purpose in Life … a smile of victory … a God’s smile.

  THE ENCHANTING HOURI

  WHERE are you leading me, Oh Enchanting

  Houri, and how long shall I follow you

  Upon this hispid road, planted with

  Thorns? How long shall our souls ascend

  And descend painfully on this twisting

  And rocky path?

  Like a child following his mother I am

  Following you, holding the extreme end

  Of your garment, forgetting my dreams

  And staring at your beauty, blinding

  My eyes under your spell to the

  Procession of spectres hovering above

  Me, and attracted to you by an inner

  Force within me which I cannot deny.

  Halt for a moment and let me see your

  Countenance; and look upon me for a

  Moment; perhaps I will learn your

  Heart’s secrets through your strange

  Eyes. Stop and rest, for I am weary,

  And my soul is trembling with fear

  Upon this horrible trail. Halt, for

  We have reached that terrible crossroad

  Where Death embraces Life.

  Oh Houri, listen to me! I was as free

  As the birds, probing the valleys and

  The forests, and flying in the spacious

  Sky. At eventide I rested upon the

  Branches of the trees, meditating the

  Temples and palaces in the City of the

  Colourful Clouds which the Sun builds

  In the morning and destroys before

  Twilight.

  I was like a thought, walking alone

  And at peace to the East and West of

  The Universe, rejoicing with the

  Beauty and joy of Life, and inquiring

  Into the magnificent mystery of

  Existence.

  I was like a dream, stealing out under

  The friendly wings of the night,

  Entering through the closed windows

  Into the maidens’ chambers, frolicking

  And awakening their hopes.… Then I

  Sat by the youths and agitated their

  Desires.… Then I probed the elders’

  Quarters and penetrated their thoughts

  Of serene contentment.

  Then you captured my fancy, and since

  That hypnotic moment I felt like a

  Prisoner dragging his shackles and

  Impelled into an unknown place.…

  I became intoxicated with your sweet

  Wine that has stolen my will, and I

  Now find my lips kissing the hand

  That strikes me sharply. Can you

&nbs
p; Not see with your soul’s eye the

  Crushing of my heart? Halt for a

  Moment; I am regaining my strength

  And untying my weary feet from the

  Heavy chains. I have crushed the

  Cup from which I have drunk your

  Tasty venom.… But now I am in

  A strange land, and bewildered;

  Which road shall I follow?

  My freedom has been restored; will

  You now accept me as a willing

  Companion, who looks at the Sun

  With glazed eyes and grasps the

  Fire with untrembling fingers?

  I have unbound my wings and I am

  Ready to ascend; will you accompany

  A youth who spends his days roaming

  The mountains like the lone eagle, and

  Wastes his nights wandering in the

  Deserts like the restless lion?

  Will you content yourself with the

  Affection of one who looks upon Love

  As but an entertainer, and declines

  To accept her as his master?

  Will you accept a heart that loves,

  But never yields? And burns, but

  Never melts? Will you be at ease

  With a soul that quivers before the

  Tempest, but never surrenders to it?

  Will you accept one as a companion

  Who makes not slaves, nor will become

  One? Will you own me but not possess

  Me, by taking my body and not my heart?

  Then here is my hand—grasp it with

  Your beautiful hand; and here is my

  Body—embrace it with your loving

  Arms; and here are my lips—bestow

  Upon them a deep and dizzying kiss.

  THE GRAVE DIGGER

  IN THE terrible silence of the night, as all heavenly things disappeared behind the grasping veil of thick clouds, I walked lonely and afraid in the Valley of the Phantoms of Death.

  As midnight came, and the spectres leaped about me with their horrible, ribbed wings, I observed a giant ghost standing before me, fascinating me with his hypnotic ghastliness. In a thundering voice he said, “Your fear is two-fold! You fear being in fear of me! You cannot conceal it, for you are weaker than the thin thread of the spider. What is your earthly name?”

  I leaned against a great rock, gathered myself from this sudden shock, and in a sickly, trembling voice replied, “My name is Abdallah, which means ‘slave of God.’” For a few moments he remained silent with a frightening silence. I grew accustomed to his appearance, but was again shaken by his weird thoughts and words, his strange beliefs and contemplations.