“In the stillness of the night the daughter of a ploughman, tending his sheep in a field, and returning to her father’s house at eventide with the dust of the curving roads upon her feet, and the fragrance of the vineyards in the folds of her garment.
And when the night is come, andthe angel of the night is upon the world, she would steal her steps to the river-valley where her lover awaits.
“Would that she were a nun in a cloister burning her heart for incense, that her heart may rise to the wind, and exhausting her spirit, a candle, for a light arising toward the greater light, together with all those who worship and those who love and are beloved.
“Would rather that she were a woman ancient of years, sitting in the sun and remembering who had shared her youth.”
And the night waxed deep, and Almustafa was dark with the night, and his spirit was as a cloud unspent. And he cried again:
“Heavy-laden is my soul with her own ripe fruit;
Heavy-laden is my soul with her fruit.
Who now will come and eat and be fulfilled?
My soul is overflowing with her wine.
Who now will pour and drink and be cooled of the desert heat?
“Would thatI were a tree flowerless and fruitless,
For the pain of abundance is more bitter than barrenness,
And the sorrow of the rich from whom no one will take
Is greater than the grief of the beggar to whom none would give.
“Would that I were a well, dry and parched , and men throwing stones into me;
For this were better and easier to be borne than to be a source of living water
When men pass by and will not drink.
“Would that I were a reed trodden under foot,
For that were better than to be a lyre of silvery strings
In a house whose lord has no fingers
And whose children are deaf.”
Now, for seven days and seven nights no man came nigh the Garden, and he was alone with is memories and his pain; for even those who had heard his words with love and patience had turned away to the pursuits of other days.
Only Karima came, with silence upon her face like a veil; and with cup and plate within her hand, drink and meat for his aloneness and his hunger. And after setting these before him, she walked her way.
And Almustafa came again to the company of the white poplars within the gate, and he sat looking upon the road. And after a while he beheld as it were a cloud of dust blown above the road and coming toward him. And from out the cloud came the nine, and before them Karima guiding them.
And Almustafa advanced and met them upon the road, and they passed through the gate, and all was well, as though they had gone their path but an hour ago.
They came in and supped with him at his frugal board, after that Karima had laid upon it the bread and the fish and poured the last of the wine into the cups. And as she poured, she besought the Master saying: “Give me leave that I go into the city and fetch wine to replenish your cups, for this is spent.”
And he looked upon her, and in his eyes were a journey and a far country, and he said: “Nay, for it is sufficent unto the hour.”
And they ate and drank and were satisfied. And when it was finished, Almustafa spoke in a vast voice, deep as the seaa and full as a great tide under the moon, and he said: “My comradess and my road-fellows, we must needs part this day. Long have we climbed the steepest mountains and we have wrestled with the storms. We have known hunger, but we have also sat at wedding-feasts. Oftentimes have we been naked, but we have also worn kingly raiment. We have indeed travelled far, but now we part. Together you shall go your way, and alone must I go mine.
“And though the seas and the vast lands shall separate us, still we shall be companions upon our journey to the Holy Mountain.
“But before we go our severed roads, I would give unto you the harvest and the gleaning of my heart:
“Go you upon your way with singing, but let each song be brief, for only the songs that die young upon your lips shall live in human hearts.
“Tell a lovely truth in little words, but never an ugly truth in any words. Tell the maiden whose hair shines in the sun that she is the daughter of the morning. But if you shall behold the sightless, say not to him that he is one with night.
“Listen to the flute-player as it were listening to April, but if you shall hear the critic and the fault-finder speak, be deaf as your own bones and as distant as your fancy.
“My comrades and my beloved, upon your way you shall meet men with hoofs; give them your wings. And men with horns; give them wreaths of laurel. And men with claws; give them petals for fingers. And men with forked tongues; give them honey words.
“Ay, you shall meet all these and more; you shall meet the lame selling crutches; and the blind, mirrors. And you shall meet the rich men begging at the gate of the Temple.
“To the lame give your swiftness, to the blind of your vision; and see that you give of yourself to the rich beggars; they are the most needy of all, for surely no man would stretch a hand for alms unless he be poor indeed, though of great possessions.
“My comrades and my friends, I charge you by our love that you be countless paths which cross one another in the desert, where the lions and the rabbits walk, and also the wolves and the sheep.
“And remember this of me: I teach you not giving, but receiving; not denial, but fulfilment; and not yielding, but understanding, with the smile upon the lips.
“I teach you not silence, but rather a song not over-loud.
“I teach you your larger self, which contains all men.”
And he rose from the board and went out straightway into the Garden and walked under the shadow of the cypress-trees as the day waned. And they followed him, at a little distance, for their heart was heavy, and their tongue clave to the roof of their mouth.
Only Karima, after she had put by the fragments, came unto him and said: “Master, I would that you suffer me to prepare food against the morrow and your journey.”
And he looked upon her with eyes that saw other worlds that this, and he said: “My sister, and my beloved, it is done, even from the beginning of time. The food and the drink is ready, for the morrow, even as for our yesterday and our today.
“I go, but if I go with a truth not yet voiced, that very truth will again seek me and gather me, though my elements be scattered throughout the silences of eternity, and again shall I come before you that I may speak with a voice born anew out of the heart of those boundless silences.
“And if there be aught of beauty that I have declared not unto you, then once again shall I be called, ay, even by mine own name, Almustafa, and I shall give you a sign, that you may know I have come back to speak all that is lacking, for God will not suffer Himself to be hidden from man, nor His word to lie covered in the abyss of the heart of man.
“I shall live beyond death, and I shall sing in your ears
Even after the vast sea-wave carries me back
To the vast sea-depth.
I shall sit at your board though without a body,
And I shall go with you to your fields, a spirit invisible.
I shall come to you at your fireside, a guest unseen.
Death changes nothing but the masks that cover our faces.
The woodsman shall be still a woodsman,
The ploughman, a ploughman,
And he who sang his song to the wind shall sing it also to the moving spheres.”
And the disciples were as still as stones, and grieved in their heart for that he had said: “I go.” But no man put out his hand to stay the Master, nor did any follow after his footsteps.
And Almustafa went out from the Garden of his mother, and his feet were swift and they were soundless; and in a moment, like a blown leaf in a strong wind, he was far gone from them, and they saw, as it were, a pale light moving up to the heights.
And the nine walked their ways down the road. But the woman still stood in t
he gathering night, and she beheld how the light and the twilight were become one; and she comforted her desolation and her aloneness with his words: “I go, but if I go with a truth not yet voiced, that very truth will seek me and gather me, and again shall I come.”
And now it was eventide.
And he had reached the hills. His steps had led him to the mist, and he stood among the rocks and the white cypress-trees hidden from all things, and he spoke and said:
“O Mist, my sister, white breath not yet held in a mould,
I return to you, a breath white and voiceless,
A word not yet uttered.
“O Mist, my winged sister mist, we are together now,
And together we shall be till life’s second day,
Whose dawn shall lay you, dewdrops in a garden,
And me a babe upon the breast of a woman,
And we shall remember.
“O Mist, my sister, I come back, a heart listening in its depths,
Even as your heart,
A desire throbbing and aimless even as your desire,
A thought not yet gathered, even as your thought.
“O Mist, my sister, first-born of my mother,
My hands still hold the green seeds you bade me scatter,
And my lips are sealed upon the song you bade me sing;
And I bring you no fruit, and I bring you no echoes
For my hands were blind, and my lips unyielding.
“O Mist, my sister, much did I love the world, and the world loved me,
For all my smiles were upon her lips, and all her tears were in my eyes.
Yet there was between us a gulf of silence which she would not abridge
And I could not overstep.
“O Mist, my sister, my deathless sister Mist,
I sang the ancient songs unto my little children,
And they listened, and there was wondering upon their face;
And I know not to whom the sind will carry the song.
And though it was not mine own, yet it came to my heart
And dwelt for a moment upon my lips.
“O Mist, my sister, though all this came to pass,
I am at peace.
It was enough to sing to those already born.
And though the singing is indeed not mine,
Yet it is of my heart’s deepest desire.
“O Mist, my sister, my sister Mist,
I am one with you now.
No longer am I a self.
The walls have fallen,
And the chains have broken;
I rise to you, a mist,
And together we shall float upon the sea until life’s second day,
When dawn shall lay you, dewdrops in a garden,
And me a babe upon the breast of a woman.”
The Poems and Stories
Denison House, Boston — where Gibran enrolled in an art school. Through his teachers there, he was introduced to the avant-garde Boston artist, photographer, and publisher Fred Holland Day, who encouraged and supported Gibran in his creative endeavours.
LIST OF WORKS IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER
THE MADMAN. HIS PARABLES AND POEMS
GOD
MY FRIEND
THE SCARECROW
THE SLEEP-WALKERS
THE WISE DOG
THE TWO HERMITS
ON GIVING AND TAKING
THE SEVEN SELVES
WAR
THE FOX
THE WISE KING
AMBITION
THE NEW PLEASURE
THE OTHER LANGUAGE
THE POMEGRANATE
THE TWO CAGES
THE THREE ANTS
THE GRAVE-DIGGER
ON THE STEPS OF THE TEMPLE
THE BLESSED CITY
THE GOOD GOD AND THE EVIL GOD
DEFEAT
NIGHT AND THE MADMAN
FACES
THE GREATER SEA
CRUCIFIED
THE ASTRONOMER
THE GREAT LONGING
SAID A BLADE OF GRASS
THE EYE
THE TWO LEARNED MEN
WHEN MY SORROW WAS BORN
AND WHEN MY JOY WAS BORN
THE PERFECT WORLD
THE FORERUNNER. HIS PARABLES AND POEMS
GOD’S FOOL
LOVE
THE KING-HERMIT
THE LION’S DAUGHTER
TYRANNY
THE SAINT
THE PLUTOCRAT
THE GREATER SELF
WAR AND THE SMALL NATIONS
CRITICS
POETS
THE WEATHER-COCK
THE KING OF ARADUS
OUT OF MY DEEPER HEART
DYNASTIES
KNOWLEDGE AND HALF-KNOWLEDGE
SAID A SHEET OF SNOW-WHITE PAPER....
THE SCHOLAR AND THE POET
VALUES
OTHER SEAS
REPENTANCE
THE DYING MAN AND THE VULTURE
BEYOND MY SOLITUDE
THE LAST WATCH
THE COMING OF THE SHIP
LOVE
MARRIAGE
CHILDREN
GIVING
EATING AND DRINKING
WORK
JOY AND SORROW
HOUSES
CLOTHES
BUYING AND SELLING
CRIME AND PUNISHMENT
LAWS
FREEDOM
REASON AND PASSION
PAIN
SELF-KNOWLEDGE
TEACHING
FRIENDSHIP
TALKING
TIME
GOOD AND EVIL
PRAYER
PLEASURE
BEAUTY
RELIGION
DEATH
THE FAREWELL
SAND AND FOAM
JAMES THE SON OF ZEBEDEE
ANNA THE MOTHER OF MARY
ASSAPH CALLED THE ORATOR OF TYRE
MARY MAGDALENE
PHILEMON A GREEK APOTHECARY
SIMON WHO WAS CALLED PETER
CAIAPHAS
JOANNA THE WIFE OF HEROD’S STEWARD
RAFCA
A PERSIAN PHILOSOPHER IN DAMASCUS
DAVID ONE OF HIS FOLLOWERS
LUKE
MATTHEW
JOHN THE SON OF ZEBEDEE
A YOUNG PRIEST OF CAPERNAUM
A RICH LEVI IN THE NEIGHBOURHOOD OF NAZARETH
A SHEPHERD IN SOUTH LEBANON
JOHN THE BAPTIST
JOSEPH OF ARIMATHEA
NATHANIEL
SABA OF ANTIOCH
SALOME TO A WOMAN FRIEND
RACHAEL A WOMAN DISCIPLE
CLEOPAS OF BETHROUNE
NAAMAN OF THE GADARENES
THOMAS
ELMADAM THE LOGICIAN
ONE OF THE MARYS
RUMANOUS A GREEK POET
LEVI A DISCIPLE
A WIDOW IN GALILEE
JUDAS THE COUSIN OF JESUS
THE MAN FROM THE DESERT
PETER
MELACHI OF BABYLON AN ASTRONOMER
A PHILOSOPHER
URIAH AN OLD MAN OF NAZARETH
NICODEMUS THE POET
JOSEPH OF ARIMETHEA
GEORGUS OF BEIRUT
MARY MAGDALENE
JOTHAM OF NAZARETH TO A ROMAN
EPHRAIM OF JERICHO
BARCA A MERCHANT OF TYRE
PHUMIAH THE HIGH PRIESTESS OF SIDON
BENJAMIN THE SCRIBE
ZACCHAEUS
JONATHAN
HANNAH OF BETHSAIDA
MANASSEH
JEPHTHA OF CAESAREA
JOHN THE BELOVED DISCIPLE
MANNUS THE POMPEIIAN TO A GREEK
PONTIUS PILATUS
BARTHOLOMEW IN EPHESUS
MATTHEW
ANDREW
A RICH MAN
JOHN AT PATMOS
A COBBLER IN JERUSALEM
SUZANNAH OF NAZARETH
JOSEPH SURNAMED JUSTUS
PHILIP
BIRBARAH OF YAMMOUNI
PILATE’S WIFE TO A ROMAN LADY
A MAN OUTSIDE OF JERUSALEM
SARKIS AN OLD GREEK SHEPHERD CALLED THE MADMAN
ANNAS THE HIGH PRIEST
A WOMAN ONE OF MARY’S NEIGHBOURS
AHAZ THE PORTLY
BARABBAS
CLAUDIUS A ROMAN SENTINEL
JAMES THE BROTHER OF THE LORD
SIMON THE CYRENE
CYBOREA
THE WOMAN OF BYBLOS
MARY MAGDALEN THIRTY YEARS LATER
A MAN FROM LEBANON
THE EARTH GODS
THE WANDERER
GARMENTS
THE EAGLE AND THE SKYLARK
THE LOVE SONG
TEARS AND LAUGHTER
AT THE FAIR
THE TWO PRINCESSES
THE LIGHTNING FLASH
THE HERMIT AND THE BEASTS
THE PROPHET AND THE CHILD
THE PEARL
BODY AND SOUL
THE KING
UPON THE SAND
THE THREE GIFTS
PEACE AND WAR
THE DANCER
THE TWO GUARDIAN ANGELS
THE STATUE
THE EXCHANGE
LOVE AND HATE
DREAMS
THE MADMAN
THE FROGS
LAWS AND LAW-GIVING
YESTERDAY, TODAY AND TOMORROW
THE PHILOSOPHER AND THE COBBLER
BUILDERS OF BRIDGES
THE FIELD OF ZAAD
THE GOLDEN BELT
THE RED EARTH
THE FULL MOON
THE HERMIT PROPHET
THE OLD, OLD WINE
THE TWO POEMS
LADY RUTH
THE MOUSE AND THE CAT
THE CURSE
THE POMEGRANATES
GOD AND MANY GODS
SHE WHO WAS DEAF
THE QUEST
THE SCEPTRE
THE PATH
THE WHALE AND THE BUTTERFLY
THE SHADOW
PEACE CONTAGIOUS
SEVENTY
FINDING GOD
THE RIVER
THE TWO HUNTERS
THE OTHER WANDERER
THE GARDEN OF THE PROPHET
THE CAST
THE SCENE
THE PLAY
LIST OF WORKS IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER
A COBBLER IN JERUSALEM
A MAN FROM LEBANON
A MAN OUTSIDE OF JERUSALEM
A PERSIAN PHILOSOPHER IN DAMASCUS
A PHILOSOPHER