He showered the publication with many works which were to become internationally known, including his highly controversial The Tempest (Book One).
Gibran’s feeling for his homeland and his countrymen remained strong despite such of his writings as Dead are my People (Book Seven), and despite the public burning of his Spirits Rebellious in the market place of Beirut, his subsequent excommunication from the church, and his exile from the country. The two specific works in Spirits Rebellious which appear to have precipitated the drastic official measures are Cry of the Graves (Book Seven) and Khalil the Heretic (Book Six), both of which condemned in previously unheard language the evils of church and state administration prevailing at the turn of the twentieth century.
His exile and excommunication did not accomplish the purpose for which they were obviously intended. His attacks grew stronger, and he brought to the interested attention of the entire civilized world the dishonest, inequitable, and sordid conditions existing in his homeland. He simply stated, upon learning of the ceremonial burning of his writings, that it was proof of the urgent need for a second edition. Years later his exile was remanded, and the church embraced him without conciliation on his part. A mourner who witnessed the Gibran funeral procession in 1931 states that the ecclesiastical pageantry of the event was beyond description. Hundreds of priests and religious leaders, representing every denomination under Eastern and Western skies, were in solemn attendance. Included were Maronites, Catholics, Shiites, Jews, Protestants, Mohammedans, Greek Orthodox, Sunnites, Druzes, and others. And to render complete Gibran’s restoration to the fold of religion, he was buried in the grotto of the Monastery of Mar Sarkis, his childhood church.
Recent world developments have heightened interest in Arabic literature to a surprising degree, and English-speaking peoples today are making deep, exploratory studies of these venerable writings, as yet unspoiled by Western influence.
The Arabs, despite centuries of internal political turbulence and external interference, have retained and improved their strong esthetic and imaginative spirit. While the Western world has been looking at life and seeking practical solutions to its problems through science, the various peoples of Arabic heritage have preferred to indulge primarily in poetic, meditative, and philosophical thinking. Under a cultural climate determined by the indigenous doctrines of Mohammed and those following him, the Arab writers have captured intact the spirit of their people, portraying the filial piety of the home, and the blind fidelity of all to their rulers, right or wrong. Never having suffered under religious bias (as contrasted with the Catholic and the Jew), nor adhered to scientific theories, Arabic writers have felt a freedom of expression of which the Western literati may well be envious. They set their own unconventional pattern, and no amount of outside pressure or criticism has been able to divert them from it.
In the present pursuit of higher learning in Arabic writings, no author of the East offers greater reward than does Kahlil Gibran, for he stands alone on the summit of all that is fascinating, terrible and beautiful in Sufi literature.
MARTIN L. WOLF
New York City, 1951.
* See also Madame Rose Hanie (Book Five).
* See also Khalil the Heretic (Book Six), John the Madman (Book Two), and The Cry of the Graves (Book Seven).
* Hitherto unpublished in any English-language collection of Gibran’s writings.
* See Contemplations in Sadness (Book Six).
* Now the leading literary figure of the East, Mr. Naimy is author of Kahlil Gibran: A Biography, the only authoritative biography of Gibran extant (Philosophical Library, publishers, 1950).
* Al-Hadith is a compendium of the sayings of the prophet Mohammed, as distinguished from Al-Koran, believed to be the direct word of God.
CONTENTS
Preface
BOOK ONE
A Poet’s Voice
Song of the Rain
The Tempest
The Life of Love
The City of the Dead
Song of Fortune
Satan
BOOK TWO
The Creation
Slavery
John the Madman
We and You
The House of Fortune
Two Infants
The Day of My Birth
BOOK THREE
The Criminal
Have Mercy on Me, My Soul!
The Widow and Her Son
Eventide of the Feast
Song of the Wave
Iram, City of Lofty Pillars
The Crucified
BOOK FOUR
My Countrymen
Behind the Garment
Peace
Song of the Soul
Laughter and Tears
Ashes of the Ages and Eternal Fire
Between Night and Morn
Honeyed Poison
BOOK FIVE
Madame Rose Hanie
Leave Me, My Blamer
Vision
Song of the Flower
Society
Song of Man
BOOK SIX
Khalil the Heretic
The Poet
Youth and Beauty
Song of Love
Contemplations in Sadness
BOOK SEVEN
The Cry of the Graves
A Lover’s Call
The Palace and the Hut
The Lonely Poet
Secrets of the Heart
Dead Are My People
The Bride’s Bed
BOOK EIGHT
The Procession
The Mermaids
The Ambitious Violet
The Enchanting Houri
The Grave Digger
The Beauty of Death
BOOK NINE
Yesterday and Today
Before the Throne of Beauty
Two Wishes
The Playground of Life
Joy and Sorrow
A Poet’s Death Is His Life
A POET’S VOICE
PART ONE
THE POWER of charity sows deep in my heart, and I reap and gather the wheat in bundles and give them to the hungry.
My soul gives life to the grapevine and I press its bunches and give the juice to the thirsty
Heaven fills my lamp with oil and I place it at my window to direct the stranger through the dark.
I do all these things because I live in them; and if destiny should tie my hands and prevent me from so doing, then death would be my only desire. For I am a poet, and if I cannot give, I shall refuse to receive.
Humanity rages like a tempest, but I sigh in silence for I know the storm must pass away while a sigh goes to God.
Human kinds cling to earthly things, but I seek ever to embrace the torch of love so it will purify me by its fire and sear inhumanity from my heart.
Substantial things deaden a man without suffering; love awakens him with enlivening pains.
Humans are divided into different clans and tribes, and belong to countries and towns. But I find myself a stranger to all communities and belong to no settlement. The universe is my country and the human family is my tribe.
Men are weak, and it is sad that they divide amongst themselves. The world is narrow and it is unwise to cleave it into kingdoms, empires, and provinces.
Human kinds unite themselves only to destroy the temples of soul, and they join hands to build edifices for earthly bodies. I stand alone listening to the voice of hope in my deep self saying, “As love enlivens a man’s heart with pain, so ignorance teaches him the way to knowledge.” Pain and ignorance lead to great joy and knowledge because the Supreme Being has created nothing vain under the sun.
PART TWO
I have a yearning for my beautiful country, and I love its people because of their misery. But if my people rose, stimulated by plunder and motivated by what they call “patriotic spirit” to murder, and invaded my neighbour’s country, then upon the committing of any human atrocity I would hate my people and my country.
I sing the praise of my birthplace and long to see the home of my childhood; but if the people in that home refused to shelter and feed the needy way-farer, I would convert my praise into anger and my longing into forgetfulness. My inner voice would say, “The house that does not comfort the needy is worthy of naught but destruction.”
I love my native village with some of my love for my country; and I love my country with part of my love for the earth, all of which is my country; and I love the earth with all of myself because it is the haven of humanity, the manifest spirit of God.
Humanity is the spirit of the Supreme Being on earth, and that humanity is standing amidst ruins, hiding its nakedness behind tattered rags, shedding tears upon hollow cheeks, and calling for its children with pitiful voice. But the children are busy singing their clan’s anthem; they are busy sharpening the swords and cannot hear the cry of their mothers.
Humanity appeals to its people but they listen not. Were one to listen, and console a mother by wiping her tears, others would say, “He is weak, affected by sentiment.”
Humanity is the spirit of the Supreme Being on earth, and that Supreme Being preaches love and good-will. But the people ridicule such teachings. The Nazarene Jesus listened, and crucifixion was his lot; Socrates heard the voice and followed it, and he too fell victim in body. The followers of The Nazarene and Socrates are the followers of Deity, and since people will not kill them, they deride them, saying, “Ridicule is more bitter than killing.”
Jerusalem could rot kill The Nazarene, nor Athens Socrates; they are living yet and shall live eternally. Ridicule cannot triumph over the followers of Deity. They live and grow forever.
PART THREE
Thou art my brother because you are a human, and we both are sons of one Holy Spirit; we are equal and made of the same earth.
You are here as my companion along the path of life, and my aid in understanding the meaning of hidden Truth. You are a human, and, that fact sufficing, I love you as a brother.
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