He conveys his sense of sorrow for the cruel waste of youth and beauty and talent and sensitivity implicit in the neglect and degradation of the millions throughout the East.

But far more than local evils and the abuse of power by Eastern regimes is woven into the living fabric of Gibran’s verbal tapestry. With the moving intensity that characterizes truly significant utterance, his earliest—like his latest—writings project timeless, universal truths. And these are often presented in the captivating literary form of the parable, peculiarly a heritage of the ancient Aramaic tradition.

His sentiments herein give new force to his other great works, for all possess the power and effectiveness of his one enormous theme. They stress the generally understood, yet completely ignored fact that but few things in life have real importance. Again and again this Lebanese Savant reminds us that if human relationships are wrong, no other factors of life can really matter. For what power, or wealth, or prestige can compensate for the silent agony of the heart’s bereavement? In what fashion can existence on earth be fulfilled when love departs or friendship withers? The bonds of a common brotherhood without demarcation, no less than personal and family ties, must be strengthened if, individually and collectively, we are to meet competently the challenge of progress—or even of survival itself.

Gibran drives these teachings forcefully to the heart, and they persist in agitating the heart to complete accord. Like Beethoven’s deathless music, of which the composer said, “From the heart it has sprung, and to the heart it shall penetrate,” these writings, through their own rich sincerity, reach the deepest recesses of our emotional and spiritual awareness.

MARTIN L. WOLF

New York City

Foreword

I WOULD NOT exchange the laughter of my heart for the fortunes of the multitudes; nor would I be content with converting my tears, invited by my agonized self, into calm. It is my fervent hope that my whole life on this earth will ever be tears and laughter.

Tears that purify my heart and reveal to me the secret of life and its mystery,

Laughter that brings me closer to my fellow men;

Tears with which I join the broken-hearted,

Laughter that symbolizes joy over my very existence.

I prefer death through happiness a thousandfold to life in vain and in despair.

An eternal hunger for love and beauty is my desire; I know now that those who possess bounty alone are naught but miserable, but to my spirit the sighs of lovers are more soothing than music of the lyre.

When night comes, the flower folds its petals and slumbers with Love, and at dawn, it opens its lips to receive the Sun’s kisses, bespeckled by quick dartings of clouds which come, but surely go.

The life of flowers is hope and fulfillment and peace; tears and laughter.

The water disappears and ascends until it turns into clouds that gather upon the hills and valleys; and when it meets the breeze, it falls down upon the fields and joins the brook that sings its way toward the sea.

The life of clouds is a life of farewell and a life of reunion; tears and laughter.

Thus the spirit separates itself from the body and walks into the world of substance, passing like clouds over the valleys of sorrow and mountains of happiness until it meets the breeze of death and returns to its starting place, the endless ocean of love and beauty which is God.

The Creation

THE GOD separated a spirit from Himself and fashioned it into beauty. He showered upon her all the blessings of gracefulness and kindness. He gave her the cup of happiness and said, “Drink not from this cup unless you forget the past and the future, for happiness is naught but the moment.” And He also gave her a cup of sorrow and said, “Drink from this cup and you will understand the meaning of the fleeting instants of the joy of life for sorrow ever abounds.”

And the God bestowed upon her a love that would desert her forever upon her first sigh of earthly satisfaction, and a sweetness that would banish with her first awareness of flattery.

And He gave her wisdom from heaven to lead her to the all-righteous path, and placed in the depth of her heart an eye that sees the unseen, and created in her an affection and goodness toward all things. He dressed her with raiment of hopes spun by the angels of heaven from the sinews of the rainbow. And He cloaked her in the shadow of confusion, which is the dawn of life and light.

Then the God took consuming fire from the furnace of anger, and searing wind from the desert of ignorance, and sharp-cutting sands from the shore of selfishness, and coarse earth from under the feet of ages, and combined them all and fashioned Man. He gave to Man a blind power that rages and drives him into a madness which extinguishes only before gratification of desire, and placed life in him which is the specter of death.

And the God laughed and cried. He felt an overwhelming love and pity for Man, and sheltered him be neath His guidance.

Have Mercy on Me, My Soul.

WHY ARE you weeping, my Soul?

Knowest thou my weakness?

Thy tears strike sharp and injure,

For I know not my wrong.

Until when shalt thou cry?

I have naught but human words

To interpret your dreams,

Your desires, and your instructions.

Look upon me, my Soul; I have

Consumed my full life heeding

Your teachings. Think of how

I suffer! I have exhausted my

Life following you.

My heart was glorying upon the

Throne, but is now yoked in slavery;

My patience was a companion, but

Now contends against me;

My youth was my hope, but

Now reprimands my neglect.

Why, my Soul, are you all-demanding?

I have denied myself pleasure

And deserted the joy of life

Following the course which you

Impelled me to pursue.

Be just to me, or call Death

To unshackle me,

For justice is your glory.

Have mercy on me, my Soul.

You have laden me with Love until

I cannot carry my burden. You and

Love are inseparable might; Substance

And I are inseparable weakness.

Will e’er the struggle cease

Between the strong and the weak?

Have mercy on me, my Soul.

You have shown me Fortune beyond

My grasp. You and Fortune abide on

The mountain top; Misery and I are

Abandoned together in the pit of

The valley. Will e’er the mountain

And the valley unite?

Have mercy on me, my Soul.

You have shown me Beauty, but then

Concealed her. You and Beauty live

In the light; Ignorance and I are

Bound together in the dark. Will

E’er the light invade darkness?

Your delight comes with the Ending,

And you revel now in anticipation;

But this body suffers with life

While in life.

This, my Soul, is perplexing.

You are hastening toward Eternity,

But this body goes slowly toward

Perishment. You do not wait for him,

And he cannot go quickly.

This, my Soul, is sadness.

You ascend high, through heaven’s

Attraction, but this body falls by

Earth’s gravity. You do not console

Him, and he does not appreciate you.

This, my Soul, is misery.

You are rich in wisdom, but this

Body is poor in understanding.

You do not compromise

And he does not obey.

This, my Soul, is extreme suffering.

In the silence of the night you visit

The Beloved and enjoy the sweetness of

His presence. This body ever remains

The bitter victim of hope and separation.

This, my Soul, is agonizing torture.

Have mercy on me, my Soul!

Two Infants

A PRINCE stood on the balcony of his palace addressing a great multitude summoned for the occasion and said, “Let me offer you and this whole fortunate country my congratulations upon the birth of a new prince who will carry the name of my noble family, and of whom you will be justly proud. He is the new bearer of a great and illustrious ancestry, and upon him depends the brilliant future of this realm. Sing and be merry!” The voices of the throngs, full of joy and thankfulness, flooded the sky with exhilarating song, welcoming the new tyrant who would affix the yoke of oppression to their necks by ruling the weak with bitter authority, and exploiting their bodies and killing their souls. For that destiny, the people were singing and drinking ecstatically to the health of the new Emir.

Another child entered life and that kingdom at the same time. While the crowds were glorifying the strong and belittling themselves by singing praise to a potential despot, and while the angels of heaven were weeping over the people’s weakness and servitude, a sick woman was thinking. She lived in an old, deserted hovel and, lying in her hard bed beside her newly-born infant wrapped with ragged swaddles, was starving to death. She was a penurious and miserable young wife neglected by humanity; her husband had fallen into the trap of death set by the prince’s oppression, leaving a solitary woman to whom God had sent, that night, a tiny companion to prevent her from working and sustaining life.

As the mass dispersed and silence was restored to the vicinity, the wretched woman placed the infant on her lap and looked into his face and wept as if she were to baptize him with tears.