OnLove

psalms of a lebanese prophet
The Poetry of Khalil Gibran

Song of Love

        I am the lover's eyes, and the spirit's
        Wine, and the heart's nourishment.
        I am a rose. My heart opens at dawn and
        The virgin kisses me and places me
        Upon her breast.

        I am the house of true fortune, and the
        Origin of pleasure, and the beginning
        Of peace and tranquility. I am the gentle
        Smile upon the lips of beauty. When youth
        Overtakes me he forgets his toil, and his
        Whole life becomes reality of sweet dreams.

        I am the poet's elation,
        And the artist's revelation,
        And the musician's inspiration.

I am a sacred shrine in the heart of a
Child, adored by a merciful mother.

        I appear to a heart's cry; I shun a demand;
        My fullness pursues the heart's desire;
        It shuns the empty claim of the voice.

        I appeared to Adam through Eve
        And exile was his lot;
        Yet I revealed myself to Solomon, and
        He drew wisdom from my presence.

        I smiled at Helena and she destroyed Tarwada;
        Yet I crowned Cleopatra and peace dominated
        The Valley of the Nile.

        I am like the ages -- building today
        And destroying tommorrow;
        I am like a god, who creates and ruins;
        I am sweeter than a violet's sigh;
        I am more violent than a raging tempest.

        Gifts alone do not entice me;
        Parting does not discourage me;
        Poverty does not chase me;
        Jealousy does not prove my awareness;
        Madness does not evidence my presence.

        Oh seekers, I am Truth, beseeching Truth;
        And your Truth in seeking and receiving
        And protecting me shall determine my
        Behaviour.

On Love

Then said Almitra, "Speak to us of Love."

And he raised his head and looked upon the people, and there fell a stillness upon them. And with a great voice he said:

    When love beckons to you follow him,
    Though his ways are hard and steep.
    And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
    Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.

    And when he speaks to you believe in him,
    Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.
    For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
    Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that Quiver in the sun,
    So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.

    Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
    He threshes you to make you naked.
    He sifts you to free you from your husks.
    He grinds you to whiteness.
    He kneads you until you are pliant;
    And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast.

All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart.

But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor, Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.

    Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
    Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;
    For love is sufficient unto love.

When you love you should not say, "God is in my heart," but rather, I am in the heart of God."

And think not you can direct the course of love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.
Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself.

But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:

    To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
    To know the pain of too much tenderness.
    To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
    And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
    To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;
    To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;
    To return home at eventide with gratitude;
    And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.

ON GIVING

Then said a rich man, "Speak to us of Giving."

And he answered:

    You give but little when you give of your possessions.
    It is when you give of yourself that you truly give.
    For what are your possessions but things you keep and guard for fear you may need them tomorrow?
    And tomorrow, what shall tomorrow bring to the overprudent dog burying bones in the trackless sand as he follows the pilgrims to the holy city?

    And what is fear of need but need itself?
    Is not dread of thirst when your well is full, thirst that is unquenchable?
    There are those who give little of the much which they have - and they give it for recognition and their hidden desire makes their gifts unwholesome.

And there are those who have little and give it all.
These are the believers in life and the bounty of life, and their coffer is never empty.

There are those who give with joy, and that joy is their reward.
And there are those who give with pain, and that pain is their baptism.

And there are those who give and know not pain in giving, nor do they seek joy, nor give with mindfulness of virtue;
They give as in yonder valley the myrtle breathes its fragrance into space.

    Though the hands of such as these God speaks, and from behind their eyes He smiles upon the earth.
    It is well to give when asked, but it is better to give unasked, through understanding;
    And to the open-handed the search for one who shall receive is joy greater than giving

    And is there aught you would withhold?
    All you have shall some day be given;
    Therefore give now, that the season of giving may be yours and not your inheritors'.

    You often say, "I would give, but only to the deserving."
    The trees in your orchard say not so, nor the flocks in your pasture.
    They give that they may live, for to withhold is to perish.
    Surely he who is worthy to receive his days and his nights is worthy of all else from you.
    And he who has deserved to drink from the ocean of life deserves to fill his cup from your little stream.

And what desert greater shall there be than that which lies in the courage and the confidence, nay the charity, of receiving?
And who are you that men should rend their bosom and unveil their pride, that you may see their worth naked and their pride unabashed?

See first that you yourself deserve to be a giver, and an instrument of giving.
For in truth it is life that gives unto life - while you, who deem yourself a giver, are but a witness.

    And you receivers - and you are all receivers - assume no weight of gratitude, lest you lay a yoke upon yourself and upon him who gives.
    Rather rise together with the giver on his gifts as on wings;
    For to be overmindful of your debt, is to doubt his generosity who has the free-hearted earth for mother, and God for father.

ON CHILDREN

And a woman who held a babe against her bosom said, "Speak to us of Children."

And he said:

    Your children are not your children.
    They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
    They come through you but not from you,
    And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.

    You may give them your love but not your thoughts.
    For they have their own thoughts.
    You may house their bodies but not their souls,
    For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

    You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
    For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
    You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.

    The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
    Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
    For even as he loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.

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