Treasured Writings of Kahlil Gibran

Home > Nonfiction > Treasured Writings of Kahlil Gibran > Page 35
Treasured Writings of Kahlil Gibran Page 35

by Kahlil Gibran


  After a moment of silence, I exclaimed: “What is this I see, Life?”

  And Life answered: “This is the City of the Past. Look upon it and ponder.”

  And I gazed upon this wonderful scene and I saw many objects and sights: halls built for action, standing giant-like beneath the wings of Slumber; temples of talk around which hovered spirits at once crying in despair, and singing songs of hope. I saw churches built by Faith and destroyed by Doubt. I spied minarets of Thought, lifting their spires like the upraised arms of beggars; I saw avenues of Desire stretching like rivers through valleys; storehouses of secrets guarded by sentinels of Concealment and pillaged by thieves of Disclosure; towers of strength raised by Valor and demolished by Fear; shrines of Dreams, embellished by Slumber and destroyed by Wakefulness; slight huts inhabited by Weakness; mosques of Solitude and Self-Denial; institutions of learning lighted by Intelligence and darkened by Ignorance; taverns of Love, where lovers became drunk and Emptiness mocked at them; theatres upon whose boards Life acted out its play, and Death rounded out Life’s tragedies.

  Such is the City of the Past—in appearance far away, though in reality nearby—visible, though barely, through the dark clouds.

  Then Life beckoned to me and said, “Follow me. We have tarried here too long.” And I replied, “Whither are we going, Life?”

  And Life said, “We are going to the City of the Future.”

  And I said, “Have pity on me, Life. I am weary, and my feet are bruised and the strength is gone out of me.”

  But Life replied, “March on, my friend. Tarrying is cowardice. To remain forever gazing upon the City of the Past is Folly. Behold, the City of the Future beckons….”

  15

  Nature and Man

  AT DAYBREAK I sat in a field, holding converse with Nature, while Man rested peacefully under coverlets of slumber. I lay in the green grass and meditated upon these questions: “Is Truth Beauty? Is Beauty Truth?”

  And in my thoughts I found myself carried far from mankind, and my imagination lifted the veil of matter that hid my inner self. My soul expanded and I was brought closer to Nature and her secrets, and my ears were opened to the language of her wonders.

  As I sat thus deep in thought, I felt a breeze passing through the branches of the trees, and I heard a sighing like that of a strayed orphan.

  “Why do you sigh, gentle breeze?” I asked.

  And the breeze replied, “Because I have come from the city that is aglow with the heat of the sun, and the seeds of plagues and contaminations cling to my pure garments. Can you blame me for grieving?”

  Then I looked at the tear-stained faces of the flowers, and heard their soft lament. And I asked, “Why do you weep, my lovely flowers?”

  One of the flowers raised her gentle head and whispered, “We weep because Man will come and cut us down, and offer us for sale in the markets of the city.”

  And another flower added, “In the evening, when we are wilted, he will throw us on the refuse heap. We weep because the cruel hand of Man snatches us from our native haunts.”

  And I heard the brook lamenting like a widow mourning her dead child and I asked, “Why do you weep, my pure brook?”

  And the brook replied, “Because I am compelled to go to the city where Man contemns me and spurns me for stronger drinks and makes of me a scavenger for his offal, pollutes my purity, and turns my goodness to filth.”

  And I heard the birds grieving, and I asked, “Why do you cry, my beautiful birds?” And one of them flew near, and perched at the tip of a branch and said, “The sons of Adam will soon come into this field with their deadly weapons and make war upon us as if we were their mortal enemies. We are now taking leave of one another, for we know not which of us will escape the wrath of Man. Death follows us wherever we go.”

  Now the sun rose from behind the mountain peaks, and gilded the treetops with coronals. I looked upon this beauty and asked myself, “Why must Man destroy what Nature has built?”

  16

  The Enchantress

  THE WOMAN WHOM MY HEART HAS LOVED sat yesterday in this lonely room and rested her lovely body upon this velvet couch. From these crystal goblets she sipped the aged wine.

  This is yesterday’s dream; for the woman my heart has loved is gone to a distant place—the Land of Oblivion and Emptiness.

  The print of her fingers is yet upon my mirror; and the fragrance of her breathing is still within the folds of my garments; and the echo of her sweet voice can be heard in this room.

  But the woman my heart has loved is gone to a distant place called the Valley of Exile and Forgetfulness.

  By my bed hangs a portrait of this woman. The love-letters she wrote to me I have kept in a silver case, studded with emeralds and coral. And all these things will remain with me till tomorrow, when the wind will blow them away into oblivion, where only mute silence reigns.

  The woman I have loved is like the women to whom you have given your hearts. She is strangely beautiful, as if fashioned by a god; as meek as the dove, as wily as the serpent, as proudly graceful as the peacock, as fierce as the wolf, as lovely as the white swan, and as fearful as the black night. She is compounded of a handful of earth and a beakerful of sea-foam.

  I have known this woman since childhood. I have followed her into the fields and laid hold of the hem of her garments as she walked in the streets of the city. I have known her since the days of my youth, and I have seen the shadow of her face in the pages of the books I have read. I have heard her heavenly voice in the murmur of the brook.

  To her I opened my heart’s discontents and the secrets of my soul.

  The woman whom my heart has loved is gone to a cold, desolate and distant place—the Land of Emptiness and Oblivion.

  The woman my heart has loved is called Life. She is beautiful, and draws all hearts to herself. She takes our lives in pawn and buries our yearnings in promises.

  Life is a woman bathing in the tears of her lovers and anointing herself with the blood of her victims. Her raiments are white days, lined with the darkness of night. She takes the human heart to lover, but denies herself in marriage.

  Life is an enchantress

  Who seduces us with her beauty—

  But he who knows her wiles

  Will flee her enchantments.

  17

  Youth and Hope

  YOUTH WALKED BEFORE ME and I followed him until we came to a distant field. There he stopped, and gazed at the clouds that drifted over the horizon like a flock of white lambs. Then he looked at the trees whose naked branches pointed toward the sky as if praying to Heaven for the return of their foliage.

  And I said, “Where are we now, Youth?”

  And he replied, “We are in the field of Bewilderment. Take heed.”

  And I said, “Let us go back at once, for this desolate place affrights me, and the sight of the clouds and the naked trees saddens my heart.”

  And he replied, “Be patient. Perplexity is the beginning of knowledge.”

  Then I looked around me and saw a form moving gracefully toward us and I asked, “Who is this woman?”

  And Youth replied, “This is Melpomene, daughter of Zeus, and Muse of Tragedy.”

  “Oh, happy Youth!” I exclaimed, “what does Tragedy want of me, while you are at my side?”

  And he answered, “She has come to show you the earth and its sorrows; for he who has not looked on Sorrow will never see Joy.”

  Then the spirit laid a hand upon my eyes. When she withdrew it, Youth was gone, and I was alone, divested of my earthly garments, and I cried, “Daughter of Zeus, where is Youth?”

  Melpomene did not answer; but took me up under her wings, and carried me to the summit of a high mountain. Below me I saw the earth and all in it, spread out like the pages of a book, upon which were inscribed the secrets of the universe. I stood in awe beside the maiden, pondered the mystery of Man, and struggled to decipher Life’s symbols.

  And I saw woeful things: The
Angels of Happiness warring with the Devils of Misery, and standing between them was Man, now drawn one way by Hope and now another by Despair.

  I saw Love and Hate dallying with the human heart; Love concealing Man’s guilt and besotting him with the wine of submission, praise and flattery; while Hatred provoked him, and sealed his ears and blinded his eyes to Truth.

  And I beheld the city crouching like a child of its slums and snatching at the garment of the son of Adam. From afar I saw the lovely fields weeping over man’s sorrow.

  I beheld priests foaming like sly foxes; and false messiahs contriving and conspiring against Man’s happiness.

  And I saw Man calling upon Wisdom for deliverance; but Wisdom did not hearken to his cries, for he had contemned her when she spoke to him in the streets of the city.

  And I saw preachers gazing in adoration toward the heavens, while their hearts were interred in the pits of Greed.

  I saw a youth winning a maiden’s heart with sweet speech; but their true feelings were asleep, and their divinity was far away.

  I saw the lawmakers chattering idly, selling their wares in the market places of Deceit and Hypocrisy.

  I saw physicians toying with the souls of the simple-hearted and trustful. I saw the ignorant sitting with the wise, exalting their past to the throne of glory, adorning their present with the robes of plenty, and preparing a couch of luxury for the future.

  I saw the wretched poor sowing the seed, and the strong reaping; and oppression, miscalled Law, standing guard.

  I saw the thieves of Ignorance despoiling the treasures of Knowledge, while the sentinels of Light lay drowned in the deep sleep of inaction.

  And I saw two lovers; but the woman was like a lute in the hand of a man who cannot play, but understands only harsh sounds.

  And I beheld the forces of Knowledge laying siege to the city of Inherited Privilege; but they were few in number and were soon dispersed.

  And I saw Freedom walking alone, knocking at doors, and asking for shelter, but no one heeded her pleas. Then I saw Prodigality striding in splendor, and the multitude acclaiming her as Liberty.

  I saw Religion buried in books, and Doubt stood in her place.

  And I saw Man wearing the garments of Patience as a cloak for Cowardice and calling Sloth Tolerance, and Fear Courtesy.

  I saw the intruder sitting at the board of Knowledge, uttering folly, but the guests were silent.

  I saw gold in the hands of the wasteful, a means of evildoing; and in the hands of the miserly as a bait for hatred. But in the hands of the wise I saw no gold.

  When I beheld all these things, I cried out in pain, “Oh Daughter of Zeus, is this indeed the Earth? Is this Man?”

  In a soft and anguished voice she replied, “What you see is the Soul’s path, and it is paved with sharp stones and carpeted with thorns. This is only the shadow of Man. This is Night. But wait! Morning will soon be here!”

  Then she laid a gentle hand upon my eyes, and when she withdrew it, behold! there was Youth walking slowly by my side, and ahead of us, leading the way, marched Hope.

  18

  Resurrection

  YESTERDAY, MY BELOVED, I was almost alone in the world, and my solitude was as pitiless as death. I was like a flower that grows in the shadow of a huge rock, of whose existence Life is not aware, and which is not aware of Life.

  But today my soul awakened, and I beheld you standing by my side. I rose to my feet and rejoiced; then I knelt in reverence and worshipped before you.

  Yesterday the touch of the frolicsome breeze seemed harsh, my beloved, and the sun’s beams seemed weak, a mist hid the face of the earth, and the waves of the ocean roared like a tempest.

  I looked all about me, but saw naught but my own suffering self standing by my side, while the phantoms of darkness rose and fell around me like ravenous vultures.

  But today Nature is bathed in light, and the roaring waves are calm and the fogs are dispersed. Wherever I look I see Life’s secrets lying open before me.

  Yesterday I was a soundless word in the heart of the Night; today I am a song on the lips of Time.

  And all this has come to pass in a moment, and was fashioned by a glance, a word, a sigh, and a kiss.

  That moment, my beloved, has blended my soul’s past readiness with my heart’s hopes of the future. It was like a white rose that bursts from the bosom of the earth into the light of day.

  That moment was to my life what the birth of Christ has been to the ages of Man, for it was filled with love and goodness. It turned darkness into light, sorrow into joy, and despair to bliss.

  Beloved, the fires of Love descend from heaven in many shapes and forms, but their impress on the world is one. The tiny flame that lights up the human heart is like a blazing torch that comes down from heaven to light up the paths of mankind.

  For in one soul are contained the hopes and feelings of all Mankind.

  The Jews, my beloved, awaited the coming of a Messiah, who had been promised them, and who was to deliver them from bondage.

  And the Great Soul of the World sensed that the worship of Jupiter and Minerva no longer availed, for the thirsty hearts of men could not be quenched with that wine.

  In Rome men pondered the divinity of Apollo, a god without pity, and the beauty of Venus already fallen into decay.

  For deep in their hearts, though they did not understand it, these nations hungered and thirsted for the supreme teaching that would transcend any to be found on the earth. They yearned for the spirit’s freedom that would teach man to rejoice with his neighbor at the light of the sun and the wonder of living. For it is this cherished freedom that brings man close to the Unseen, which he can approach without fear or shame.

  All this took place two thousand years ago, my beloved, when the heart’s desires hovered around visible things, fearful of approaching the eternal spirit—while Pan, Lord of Forests, filled the hearts of shepherds with terror, and Baal, Lord of the Sun, pressed with the merciless hands of priests upon the souls of the poor and lowly.

  And in one night, in one hour, in one moment of time, the lips of the spirit parted and spoke the sacred word, “Life”; and it became flesh in an infant lying asleep in the lap of a virgin, in a stable where shepherds guarded their flocks against the assault of wild beasts of the night and looked with wonder upon that humble infant, asleep in the manger.

  The Infant King, swaddled in his mother’s wretched garments, sat upon a throne of burdened hearts and hungry souls, and through his humility wrested the sceptre of power from the hands of Jove and gave it to the poor shepherd watching over his flock.

  And from Minerva he took Wisdom, and set it in the heart of a poor fisherman who was mending his fishing net.

  From Apollo he drew Joy through his own sorrows and bestowed it upon the brokenhearted beggar by the wayside.

  From Venus he took Beauty and poured it into the soul of the fallen woman trembling before her cruel oppressor.

  He dethroned Baal and set in his place the humble plowman, who sowed his seed and tilled the soil by the sweat of his brow.

  Beloved, was not my soul yesterday like unto the tribes of Israel? Did I not wait in the silence of the night for the coming of my Savior to deliver me from the bondage and evils of Time? Did I not feel the great thirst and the spirit’s hunger as did those nations of the past? Did I not walk the road of Life like a child lost in some wilderness, and was not my life like a seed cast upon a stone, that no bird would seek, nor the elements split and bring to life?

  All this came to pass yesterday, my beloved, when my dreams crouched in the dark, and feared the approach of the day.

  All this came to pass when Sorrow tore my heart, and Hope strove to mend it.

  In one night, in one hour, in one moment of time, the Spirit descended from the center of the circle of divine light and looked at me with your heart’s eyes. From that glance Love was born, and found a dwelling in my heart.

  This great Love, swaddled in the robe
s of my feelings, has turned sorrow to joy, despair to bliss, aloneness to paradise.

  Love, the great King, has restored life to my dead self; returned light to my tear-blinded eyes; raised me up from the pit of despair to the celestial kingdom of Hope.

  For all my days were as nights, my beloved. But behold! the dawn has come; soon the sun will rise. For the breath of the Infant Jesus has filled the firmament and is mingled with the ether. Life, once full of woe, is now overflowing with joy, for the arms of the Infant are around me and embrace my soul.

  THOUGHTS AND

  MEDITATIONS

  The Poet from Baalbek

  Sarkis Effandi, one of Gibran’s closest friends, was highly regarded among the intelligentsia of Lebanon. He owned a publishing house and a daily Arabic newspaper called Lisan-Ul-Hal. In the year 1912, the Arab League of Progress, organized for the promotion of Arab unity and culture, decided to honor the great Lebanese poet Khalil Effandi Mutran.

  Since Sarkis was the head of the committee honoring the poet, he extended an invitation to his friend Gibran, now settled in New York, to join them in Beirut on that occasion. Gibran could not make the trip, but he sent Sarkis a story with instructions to read it in his behalf before the poet. In the story, which eulogises the poet, Gibran expresses his belief in the transmigration of souls and praises the great soul reincarnated in the honored poet.

  IN THE CITY OF BAALBEK, THE YEAR 112 B. C.

  The Emir sat on his golden throne surrounded by glittering lamps and gilded censers. The aromatic scent of the latter filled the palace. At his right and left sides were the high priests and the chiefs; the slaves and guards stood immobile before him like statues of bronze erected before the face of the sun.

  After the cantors had chanted echoing hymns, an elderly vizier stood before the Emir, and in a voice modulated in the serenity of age, said, “Oh great and merciful Prince, yesterday there arrived in our city a sage from India who believes in a diversity of religions and speaks of strange things difficult to understand. He preaches the doctrine of the transmigration of souls and the incarnation of spirits which move from one generation to another seeking more and more perfect avatars until they become godlike. This sage seeks an audience with you to explain his dogma.”

 

‹ Prev