“Many times deception had tempted woman to leave her husband and follow wealth, because her love for riches and beautiful raiment blinds her and leads her into shame. Was Madame Hanie deceitful when she left her rich husband’s palace for a poor man’s hut? Many times ignorance kills a woman’s honour and revives her passion; she grows tired and leaves her husband, prompted by her desires, and follows a man to whom she lowers herself. Was Madame Hanie an ignorant woman following her physical desires when she declared publicly her independence and joined her beloved young man? She could have satisfied herself secretly while at her husband’s home, for many men were willing to be the slaves of her beauty and martyrs of her love. Madame Hanie was a miserable woman. She sought only happiness, found it, and embraced it. This is the very truth which society disrespects.” Then I whispered through the ether and inquired of myself, “Is it permissible for a woman to buy her happiness with her husband’s misery?” And my soul added, “Is it lawful for a man to enslave his wife’s affection when he realizes he will never possess it?”

I continued walking and Madame Hanie’s voice was still sounding in my ears when I reached the extreme end of the city. The sun was disappearing and silence ruled the fields and prairies while the birds commenced singing their evening prayers. I stood there meditating, and then I sighed and said, “Before the throne of Freedom, the trees rejoice with the frolicsome breeze and enjoy the rays of the sun and the beams of the moon. Through the ears of Freedom these birds whisper and around Freedom they flutter to the music of the brooks. Throughout the sky of Freedom these flowers breathe their fragrance and before Freedom’s eyes they smile when dawn comes.

“Everything on earth lives according to the law of nature, and from that law emerges the glory and joy of liberty; but man is denied this fortune, because he set for the God-given soul a limited and earthly law of his own. He made for himself strict rules. Man built a narrow and painful prison in which he secluded his affections and desires. He dug out a deep grave in which he buried his heart and its purpose. If an individual, through the dictates of his soul, declares his withdrawal from society and violates the law, his fellowmen will say he is a rebel worthy of exile, or an infamous creature worthy only of execution. Will man remain a slave of self-confinement until the end of the world? Or will he be freed by the passing of time and live in the Spirit for the Spirit? Will man insist upon staring downward and backward at the earth? Or will he turn his eyes toward the sun so he will not see the shadow of his body amongst the skulls and thorns?”

LEAVE ME, MY BLAMER

LEAVE me, my blamer,

For the sake of the love

Which unites your soul with

That of your beloved one;

For the sake of that which

Joins spirit with mother’s

Affection, and ties your

Heart with filial love. Go,

And leave me to my own

Weeping heart.

Let me sail in the ocean of

My dreams; wait until Tomorrow

Comes, for Tomorrow is free to

Do with me as he wishes. Your

Flaying is naught but shadow

That walks with the spirit to

The tomb of abashment, and shows

Her the cold, solid earth.

I have a little heart within me

And I like to bring him out of

His prison and carry him on the

Palm of my hand to examine him

In depth and extract his secret.

Aim not your arrows at him, lest

He take fright and vanish ere he

Pours the secret’s blood as a

Sacrifice at the altar of his

Own faith, given him by Deity

When He fashioned him of Love and Beauty.

The sun is rising and the nightingale

Is singing, and the myrtle is

Breathing its fragrance into space.

I want to free myself from the

Quilted slumber of wrong. Do not

Detain me, my blamer!

Cavil me not by mention of the

Lions of the forest or the

Snakes of the valley, for

My soul knows no fear of earth and

Accepts no warning of evil before

Evil comes.

Advise me not, my blamer, for

Calamities have opened my heart and

Tears have cleansed my eyes, and

Errors have taught me the language

Of the hearts.

Talk not of banishment, for Conscience

Is my judge and he will justify me

And protect me if I am innocent, and

Will deny me of life if I am a criminal.

Love’s procession is moving;

Beauty is waving her banner;

Youth is sounding the trumpet of joy;

Disturb not my contrition, my blamer.

Let me walk, for the path is rich

With roses and mint, and the air

Is scented with cleanliness.

Relate not the tales of wealth and

Greatness, for my soul is rich

With bounty and great with God’s glory.

Speak not of peoples and laws and

Kingdoms, for the whole earth is

My birthplace and all humans are

My brothers.

Go from me, for you are taking away

Life-giving repentance and bringing

Needless words.

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 worthy of examination and meditation by the heart 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 center 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 soul prevented further sight or hearing.

SONG OF THE FLOWER

IAM A KIND WORD uttered and repeated

By the voice of Nature;

I am a star fallen from the

Blue tent upon the green carpet.

I am the daughter of the elements

With whom Winter conceived;

To whom Spring gave birth; I was

Reared in the lap of Summer and I

Slept in the bed of Autumn.

At dawn I unite with the breeze

To announce the coming of light;

At eventide I join the birds

In bidding the light farewell.

The plains are decorated with

My beautiful colours, and the air

Is scented with my fragrance.

As I embrace Slumber the eyes of

Night watch over me, and as I

Awaken I stare at the sun, which is

The only eye of the day.

I drink dew for wine, and hearken to

The voices of the birds, and dance

To the rhythmic swaying of the grass.

I am the lover’s gift; I am the wedding wreath;

I am the memory of a moment of happiness;

I am the last gift of the living to the dead;

I am a part of joy and a part of sorrow.

But I look up high to see only the light,

And never look down to see my shadow.

This is wisdom which man must learn.

SOCIETY

THE SUFFERINGS of the multitudes are as the agonies of gnawing pain, and in the mouth of society there are many decayed and ailing teeth. But society declines the careful and patient remedy, satisfying itself with polishing the exteriors and stuffing them with resplendent, glittering gold that blinds the eye to the decay beyond. But the patient cannot blind himself to the continuing pain.

Many are the social dentists who endeavour to administer to the evils of the world, offering fillings of beauty, and many are the sufferers who yield to the will of the reformers and thereby increase their own suffering, draw deeper of their waning strength, and deceive themselves more surely into the abyss of death.

The decayed teeth of Syria are found in her schools, wherein today’s youth is taught to be tomorrow’s sorrow; and in her courts of justice, wherein the judges twist and play with the law as a tiger plays with its prey; and in the palaces, wherein false-hood and hypocrisy prevail; and in the huts of the poor, wherein fear, ignorance, and cowardice abide

The political dentists of soft fingers pour honey into the ears of the people, shouting that they are filling the crevices of the nation’s weakness. Their song is made to sound higher than the sound of the grinding millstone, but in truth it is no nobler than the croaking of the frogs in the stagnant marsh.

Many are the thinkers and idealists in this world of emptiness … and how faint are their dreams!

SONG OF MAN

IWAS HERE from the moment of the

Beginning, and here I am still. And

I shall remain here until the end

Of the world, for there is no

Ending to my grief-stricken being.

I roamed the infinite sky, and

Soared in the ideal world, and

Floated through the firmament. But

Here I am, prisoner of measurement.

I heard the teachings of Confucius;

I listened to Brahma’s wisdom;

I sat by Buddha under the Tree of Knowledge.

Yet here am I, existing with ignorance

And heresy.

I was on Sinai when Jehovah approached Moses;

I saw the Nazarene’s miracles at the Jordan;

I was in Medina when Mohammed visited.

Yet here I am, prisoner of bewilderment.

Then I witnessed the might of Babylon;

I learned of the glory of Egypt;

I viewed the warring greatness of Rome.

Yet my earlier teachings showed the

Weakness and sorrow of those achievements.

I conversed with the magicians of Ain Dour;

I debated with the priests of Assyria;

I gleaned depth from the prophets of Palestine.

Yet, I am still seeking the truth.

I gathered wisdom from quiet India;

I probed the antiquity of Arabia;

I heard all that can be heard.

Yet, my heart is deaf and blind.

I suffered at the hands of despotic rulers;

I suffered slavery under insane invaders;

I suffered hunger imposed by tyranny;

Yet, I still possess some inner power

With which I struggle to greet each day.

My mind is filled, but my heart is empty;

My body is old, but my heart is an infant.

Perhaps in youth my heart will grow, but I

Pray to grow old and reach the moment of

My return to God. Only then will my heart fill!

I was here from the moment of the

Beginning, and here I am still. And

I shall remain here until the end

Of the world, for there is no

Ending to my grief-stricken being.

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KHALIL THE HERETIC

PART ONE

SHEIK ABBAS was looked upon as a prince by the people of a solitary village in North Lebanon. His mansion stood in the midst of those poor villagers’ huts like a healthy giant amidst sickly dwarfs. He lived amid luxury while they pursued an existence of penury.