The Kahlil Gibran Collection

by Kahlil Gibran

  * * *

  Thus does the first touch of humanity’s selfishness make criminals of the humble, and make killers of the sons of peace; thus does the early greed of humanity grow and strike back at humanity a thousand fold!

  Song Of Fortune

  Man and I are sweethearts

  He craves me and I long for him,

  But alas!

  Between us has appeared a rival who brings us misery.

  She is cruel and demanding,

  Possessing empty lure.

  Her name is Substance.

  She follows wherever we go

  And watches like a sentinel,

  Bringing restlessness to my lover.

  * * *

  I ask for my beloved in the forest,

  Under the trees, by the lakes.

  I cannot find him,

  For Substance has spirited him to the clamorous city

  And placed him on the throne

  Of quaking, metal riches.

  * * *

  I call for him with the voice of knowledge

  And the song of Wisdom.

  He does not hearken,

  For Substance has enticed him into the dungeon

  Of selfishness, where avarice dwells.

  * * *

  I seek him in the field of Contentment,

  But I am alone,

  For my rival has imprisoned him ,

  I the cave of gluttony and greed,

  And locked him there

  With painful chains of gold.

  * * *

  I call to him at dawn, when Nature smiles,

  But he does not hear,

  For excess has laden his drugged eyes with sick slumber.

  * * *

  I beguile him at eventide, when Silence rules

  And the flowers sleep.

  But he responds not,

  For his fear over what the morrow will bring shadows his thoughts.

  * * *

  He yearns to love me ;

  He asks for me in this own acts.

  But he will find me not except in God’s acts.

  He seeks me in the edifices of his glory

  Which he has built upon the bones of others ;

  He whispers to me from among his heaps of gold and silver ;

  But he will find me only by coming to the house of Simplicity

  Which God has built at the brink of the stream of affection.

  * * *

  He desires to kiss me before his coffers,

  But his lips will never touch mine,

  Except in the richness of the pure breeze.

  * * *

  He asks me to share with him his fabulous wealth,

  But I will not forsake God’s fortune ;

  I will not cast off my cloak of beauty.

  * * *

  He seeks deceit for medium ;

  I seek only the medium of his heart.

  He bruises his heart in his narrow cell ;

  I would enrich his heart with all my love.

  * * *

  My beloved has learned how to shriek and cry for my enemy, Substance ;

  I would teach him how to shed tears of affection

  And mercy from the eyes of his soul

  For all things,

  And utter sighs of contentment through those tears.

  * * *

  Man is my sweetheart ;

  I want to belong to him.

  Song Of The Rain

  I am dotted silver threads dropped from heaven by the gods.

  Nature then takes me, to adorn her fields and valleys.

  * * *

  I am beautiful pearls,

  Plucked from the crown of Ishtar by the daughter of Dawn to embellish the gardens.

  * * *

  When I cry the hills laugh ;

  When I humble myself the flowers rejoice ;

  When I bow, all things are elated.

  * * *

  The field and the cloud are lovers

  And between them I am a messenger of mercy.

  I quench the thirst of one ;

  I cure the ailment of the other.

  * * *

  The voice of thunder declares my arrival ;

  The rainbow announces my departure.

  I am like earthly life,

  Which begins at the feet of the mad elements

  And ends under the upraised wings of death.

  * * *

  I emerge from the heard of the sea

  Soar with the breeze.

  When I see a field in need,

  I descend and embrace the flowers and the trees in a million little ways.

  * * *

  I touch gently at the windows with my soft fingers,

  And my announcement is a welcome song all can hear

  But only the sensitive can understand.

  * * *

  The heat in the air gives birth to me,

  But in turn I kill it,

  As woman overcomes man with the strength she takes from him.

  * * *

  I am the sigh of the sea ;

  The laughter of the field ;

  The tears of heaven.

  * * *

  So with love –

  Sighs from the deep sea of affection ;

  Laughter from the colourful field of the spirit ;

  Tears from the endless heaven of memories.

  The Poet

  He is a link between this and the coming world.

  He is a pure spring from which all thirsty souls may drink.

  * * *

  He is a tree watered by the River of Beauty,

  Bearing fruit which the hungry heart craves ;

  * * *

  He is a nightingale,

  Soothing the depressed spirit with his beautiful melodies ;

  He is a white cloud appearing over the horizon,

  Ascending and growing until it fills the face of the sky.

  Then it falls on the flows in the field of Life,

  Opening their petals to admit the light.

  * * *

  He is an angel,

  Sent by the goddess to preach the Deity’s gospel ;

  He is a brilliant lamp,

  Unconquered by darkness

  And inextinguishable by the wind.

  It is filled with oil by Ihstar of Love,

  And lighted by Apollon of Music.

  * * *

  He is a solitary figure,

  Robed in simplicity and kindness ;

  He sits upon the lap of Nature to draw his inspiration,

  And stays up in the silence of the night,

  Awaiting the descending of the spirit.

  * * *

  He is a sower

  Who sows the seeds of his heart in the prairies of affection,

  And humanity reaps the harvest for her nourishment.

  * * *

  This is the poet – whom the people ignore in this life,

  And who is recognized only when he bids the earthly world farewell

  And returns to his arbour in heaven.

  * * *

  This is the poet – who asks naught of humanity but a smile.

  This is the poet – whose spirit ascends and fills the firmament with beautiful sayings ;

  Yet the people deny themselves his radiance.

  * * *

  Until when shall the people remain asleep?

  Until when shall they continue to glorify those who attain greatness by moments of advantage?

  How long shall they ignore those who enable them to see the beauty of their spirit,

  Symbol of peace and love?

  * * *

  Until when shall human beings honour the dead and forget the living,

  Who spend their lives encircled in misery,

  And who consume themselves,

  Like burning candles to illuminate the way

  For the ignorant and lead them into the path of light?

  * * *

  Poet, you are the life of this
life,

  And you have triumphed over the ages of despite their severity.

  * * *

  Poet, you will one day rule the hearts,

  And therefore, your kingdom has no ending.

  * * *

  Poet, examine your crown of thorns ;

  You will find concealed in it a budding wreath of laurel.

  Laughter And Tears

  As the Sun withdrew his rays from the garden, and the moon threw cushioned beams upon the flowers, I sat under the trees pondering upon the phenomena of the atmosphere, looking through the branches at the strewn stars which glittered like chips of silver upon a blue carpet; and I could hear from a distance the agitated murmur of the rivulet singing its way briskly into the valley.

  * * *

  When the birds took shelter among the boughs, and the flowers folded their petals, and tremendous silence descended, I heard a rustle of feet though the grass. I took heed and saw a young couple approaching my arbour. The say under a tree where I could see them without being seen.

  * * *

  After he looked about in every direction, I heard the young man saying, “Sit by me, my beloved, and listen to my heart; smile, for your happiness is a symbol of our future; be merry, for the sparkling days rejoice with us.

  * * *

  “My soul is warning me of the doubt in your heart, for doubt in love is a sin. “Soon you will be the owner of this vast land, lighted by this beautiful moon; soon you will be the mistress of my palace, and all the servants and maids will obey your commands.

  * * *

  “Smile, my beloved, like the gold smiles from my father’s coffers.

  * * *

  “My heart refuses to deny you its secret. Twelve months of comfort and travel await us; for a year we will spend my father’s gold at the blue lakes of Switzerland, and viewing the edifices of Italy and Egypt, and resting under the Holy Cedars of Lebanon; you will meet the princesses who will envy you for your jewels and clothes.

  * * *

  “All these things I will do for you; will you be satisfied?”

  * * *

  In a little while I saw them walking and stepping on flowers as the rich step upon the hearts of the poor. As they disappeared from my sight, I commenced to make comparison between love and money, and to analyze their position in the heart.

  * * *

  Money! The source of insincere love; the spring of false light and fortune; the well of poisoned water; the desperation of old age!

  * * *

  I was still wandering in the vast desert of contemplation when a forlorn and spectre-like couple passed by me and sat on the grass; a young man and a young woman who had left their farming shacks in the nearby fields for this cool and solitary place.

  * * *

  After a few moments of complete silence, I heard the following words uttered with sighs from weather-bitten lips, “Shed not tears, my beloved; love that opens our eyes and enslaves our hearts can give us the blessing of patience. Be consoled in our delay our delay, for we have taken an oath and entered Love’s shrine; for our love will ever grow in adversity; for it is in Love’s name that we are suffering the obstacles of poverty and the sharpness of misery and the emptiness of separation. I shall attack these hardships until I triumph and place in your hands a strength that will help over all things to complete the journey of life.

  * * *

  “Love – which is God – will consider our sighs and tears as incense burned at His altar and He will reward us with fortitude. Good-bye, my beloved; I must leave before the heartening moon vanishes.”

  * * *

  A pure voice, combined of the consuming flame of love, and the hopeless bitterness of longing and the resolved sweetness of patience, said, “Good-bye, my beloved.”

  * * *

  They separated, and the elegy to their union was smothered by the wails of my crying heart.

  * * *

  I looked upon slumbering Nature, and with deep reflection discovered the reality of a vast and infinite thing – something no power could demand, influence acquire, nor riches purchase. Nor could it be effaced by the tears of time or deadened by sorrow; a thing which cannot be discovered by the blue lakes of Switzerland or the beautiful edifices of Italy.

  * * *

  It is something that gathers strength with patience, grows despite obstacles, warms in winter, flourishes in spring, casts a breeze in summer, and bears fruit in autumn – I found Love.

  Vision

  There in the middle of the field, by the side of a crystalline stream, I saw a bird-cage whose rods and hinges were fashioned by an expert’s hands. In one corner lay a dead bird, and in another were two basins – one empty of water and the other of seeds. I stood there reverently, as if the lifeless bird and the murmur of the water were worthy of deep silence and respect – something worth of examination and meditation by the heard and conscience.

  * * *

  As I engrossed myself in view and thought, I found that the poor creature had died of thirst beside a stream of water, and of hunger in the midst of a rich field, cradle of life; like a rich man locked inside his iron safe, perishing from hunger amid heaps of gold.

  * * *

  Before my eyes I saw the cage turned suddenly into a human skeleton, and the dead bird into a man’s heart which was bleeding from a deep wound that looked like the lips of a sorrowing woman. A voice came from that wound saying, “I am the human heart, prisoner of substance and victim of earthly laws.

  * * *

  “In God’s field of Beauty, at the edge of the stream of life, I was imprisoned in the cage of laws made by man.

  * * *

  “In the centre of beautiful Creation I died neglected because I was kept from enjoying the freedom of God’s bounty.

  * * *

  “Everything of beauty that awakens my love and desire is a disgrace, according to man’s conceptions; everything of goodness that I crave is but naught, according to his judgment.

  * * *

  “I am the lost human heart, imprisoned in the foul dungeon of man’s dictates, tied with chains of earthly authority, dead and forgotten by laughing humanity whose tongue is tied and whose eyes are empty of visible tears.”

  * * *

  All these words I heard, and I saw them emerging with a stream of ever thinning blood from that wounded heart.

  * * *

  More was said, but my misted eyes and crying should prevented further sight or hearing.

  Two Wishes

  In the silence of the night Death descended from God toward the earth. He hovered above a city and pierced the dwellings with his eyes. He say the spirits floating on wings of dreams, and the people who were surrendered to the Slumber.

  * * *

  When the moon fell below the horizon and the city became black, Death walked silently among the houses – careful to touch nothing – until he reached a palace. He entered through the bolted gates undisturbed, and stood by the rich man’s bed; and as Death touched his forehead, the sleeper’s eyes opened, showing great fright.

  * * *

  When he saw the spectre, he summoned a voice mingled with fear and anger, and said, “God away, oh horrible dream; leave me, you dreadful ghost. Who are you? How did you enter this place? What do you want? Leave this place at once, for I am the lord of the house and will call my slaves and guards, and order them to kill you!”

  * * *

  Then Death spoke, softly but with smouldering thunder, “I am Death. Stand and bow!”

  * * *

  The man responded, “What do you want? What have you come here when I have not yet finished my affairs? What see you from strength such as mine? Go to the weak man, and take him away!

  * * *

  “I loathe the sight of your bloody paws and hollow face, and my eyes take sick at your horrible ribbed winds and cadaverous body.”

  * * *

  After a moment of fearful realization he added, “No, No, oh merciful Death! Mind not talk
, for even fear reveals what the heart forbids.

  * * *

  “Take a bushelful of my gold, or a handful of my slave’s souls, but leave me. I have accounts with Life requiring settling; I have due from people much gold; my ships have not reached the harbour; my demand, but spare my life. Death, I own harems of supernatural beauty; your choice is my gift to you. Give heed, Death – I have but one child, and I love him dearly for he is my only joy in this life. I offer supreme sacrifice – take him, but spare me!”