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THEPROPHET KahlilGibran

AlfredA.Knopf,NewYork,1923

TableofContents TheComingoftheShip OnLove OnMarriage OnChildren OnGiving OnEatingandDrinking OnWork OnJoyandSorrow OnHouses OnClothes OnBuyingandSelling OnCrimeandPunishment OnLaws OnFreedom OnReasonandPassion OnPain Self-knowledge OnTeaching OnFriendship OnTalking OnTime OnGoodandEvil OnPrayer OnPleasure OnBeauty OnReligion OnDeath TheFarewell

THECOMINGOFTHESHIP ALMUSTAFA,thechosenandthebeloved,whowasadawnuntohisownday,hadwaited twelveyearsinthecityofOrphaleseforhisshipthatwastoreturnandbearhimbackto theisleofhisbirth. Andinthetwelfthyear,ontheseventhdayofIelool,themonthofreaping,heclimbedthe hillwithoutthecitywallsandlookedseaward;andhebeheldhisshipcomingwiththe mist. Thenthegatesofhisheartwereflungopen,andhisjoyflewfaroverthesea.Andhe closedhiseyesandprayedinthesilencesofhissoul. BUTashedescendedthehill,asadnesscameuponhim,andhethoughtinhisheart:How shallIgoinpeaceandwithoutsorrow?Nay,notwithoutawoundinthespiritshallIleave thiscity. LongwerethedaysofpainIhavespentwithinitswalls,andlongwerethenightsof aloneness;andwhocandepartfromhispainandhisalonenesswithoutregret? ToomanyfragmentsofthespirithaveIscatteredinthesestreets,andtoomanyarethe childrenofmylongingthatwalknakedamongthesehills,andIcannotwithdrawfrom themwithoutaburdenandanache. ItisnotagarmentIcastoffthisday,butaskinthatItearwithmyownhands. NorisitathoughtIleavebehindme,butaheartmadesweetwithhungerandwiththirst. YETIcannottarrylonger. Theseathatcallsallthingsuntohercallsme,andImustembark. Fortostay,thoughthehoursburninthenight,istofreezeandcrystallizeandbeboundin amould. FainwouldItakewithmeallthatishere.ButhowshallI? Avoicecannotcarrythetongueandthelipsthatgaveitwings.Alonemustitseekthe ether. Andaloneandwithouthisnestshalltheeagleflyacrossthesun. NOWwhenhereachedthefootofthehill,heturnedagaintowardsthesea,andhesawhis shipapproachingtheharbour,anduponherprowthemariners,themenofhisownland. ANDhissoulcriedouttothem,andhesaid: Sonsofmyancientmother,youridersofthetides,Howoftenhaveyousailedinmy dreams.Andnowyoucomeinmyawakening,whichismydeeperdream. ReadyamItogo,andmyeagernesswithsailsfullsetawaitsthewind. OnlyanotherbreathwillIbreatheinthisstillair,onlyanotherlovinglookcastbackward, AndthenIshallstandamongyou,aseafareramongseafarers. Andyou,vastsea,sleepingmother,

Whoalonearepeaceandfreedomtotheriverandthestream,Onlyanotherwindingwill thisstreammake,onlyanothermurmurinthisglade,AndthenIshallcometoyou,a boundlessdroptoaboundlessocean. ANDashewalkedhesawfromafarmenandwomenleavingtheirfieldsandtheir vineyardsandhasteningtowardsthecitygates. Andheheardtheirvoicescallinghisname,andshoutingfromfieldtofieldtellingone anotherofthecomingofhisship. ANDhesaidtohimself: Shallthedayofpartingbethedayofgathering? Andshallitbesaidthatmyevewasintruthmydawn? AndwhatshallIgiveuntohimwhohaslefthissloughinmidfurrow,ortohimwhohas stoppedthewheelofhiswinepress? Shallmyheartbecomeatreeheavy–ladenwithfruitthatImaygatherandgiveunto them? AndshallmydesiresflowlikeafountainthatImayfilltheircups? AmIaharpthatthehandofthemightymaytouchme,oraflutethathisbreathmaypass throughme? AseekerofsilencesamI,andwhattreasurehaveIfoundinsilencesthatImaydispense withconfidence? Ifthisismydayofharvest,inwhatfieldshaveIsowedtheseed,andinwhat unrememberedseasons? IfthisindeedbethehourinwhichIliftupmylantern,itisnotmyflamethatshallburn therein. EmptyanddarkshallIraisemylantern,Andtheguardianofthenightshallfillitwithoil andheshalllightitalso. THESEthingshesaidinwords.Butmuchinhisheartremainedunsaid.Forhehimself couldnotspeakhisdeepersecret. ANDwhenheenteredintothecityallthepeoplecametomeethim,andtheywerecrying outtohimaswithonevoice. Andtheeldersofthecitystoodforthandsaid:Gonotyetawayfromus. Anoontidehaveyoubeeninourtwilight,andyouryouthhasgivenusdreamstodream. Nostrangerareyouamongus,noraguest,butoursonandourdearlybeloved. Suffernotyetoureyestohungerforyourface. ANDthepriestsandthepriestessessaiduntohim:Letnotthewavesoftheseaseparateus now,andtheyearsyouhavespentinourmidstbecomeamemory. Youhavewalkedamongusaspirit,andyourshadowhasbeenalightuponourfaces. Muchhavewelovedyou.Butspeechlesswasourlove,andwithveilshasitbeenveiled.

Yetnowitcriesalouduntoyou,andwouldstandrevealedbeforeyou. Andeverhasitbeenthatloveknowsnotitsowndepthuntilthehourofseparation. ANDotherscamealsoandentreatedhim.Butheansweredthemnot.Heonlybenthis head;andthosewhostoodnearsawhistearsfallinguponhisbreast. Andheandthepeopleproceededtowardsthegreatsquarebeforethetemple. ANDtherecameoutofthesanctuaryawomanwhosenamewasAlmitra.Andshewasa seeress. Andhelookeduponherwithexceedingtenderness,foritwasshewhohadfirstsought andbelievedinhimwhenhehadbeenbutadayintheircity. Andshehailedhim,saying: ProphetofGod,inquestoftheuttermost,longhaveyousearchedthedistancesforyour ship. Andnowyourshiphascome,andyoumustneedsgo. Deepisyourlongingforthelandofyourmemoriesandthedwelling–placeofyourgreate desires;andourlovewouldnotbindyounorourneedsholdyou. Yetthisweaskereyouleaveus,thatyouspeaktousandgiveusofyourtruth. Andwewillgiveituntoourchildren,andtheyuntotheirchildren,anditshallnotperish. Inyouralonenessyouhavewatchedwithourdays,andinyourwakefulnessyouhave listenedtotheweepingandthelaughterofoursleep. Nowthereforediscloseustoourselves,andtellusallthathasbeenshownyouofthat whichisbetweenbirthanddeath. ANDheanswered: PeopleofOrphalese,ofwhatcanIspeaksaveofthatwhichisevennowmovingwithin yoursouls?

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,forlove,ifitfindsyouworthy,directs yourcourse. LOVEhasnootherdesirebuttofulfill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MARRIAGE THENAlmitraspokeagainandsaid,AndwhatofMarriage,master? Andheansweredsaying: Youwereborntogether,andtogetheryoushallbeforevermore. Youshallbetogetherwhenthewhitewingsofdeathscatteryourdays. Aye,youshallbetogethereveninthesilentmemoryofGod. Butlettherebespacesinyourtogetherness. Andletthewindsoftheheavensdancebetweenyou. LOVEoneanother,butmakenotabondoflove:Letitratherbeamovingseabetweenthe shoresofyoursouls. Filleachother’scupbutdrinknotfromonecup. Giveoneanotherofyourbreadbuteatnotfromthesameloaf. Singanddancetogetherandbejoyous,butleteachoneofyoubealone,Evenasthe stringsofalutearealonethoughtheyquiverwiththesamemusic. GIVEyourhearts,butnotintoeachother’skeeping. ForonlythehandofLifecancontainyourhearts. Andstandtogetheryetnottooneartogether:Forthepillarsofthetemplestandapart, Andtheoaktreeandthecypressgrownotineachother’sshadow.

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to– morrow,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tha flies,soHelovesalsothebowthatisstable.

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 tomorrow? Andto–morrow,whatshallto–morrowbringtotheover–prudent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,the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. Through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EATINGANDDRINKING THENanoldman,akeeperofaninn,said,SpeaktousofEatingandDrinking. Andhesaid: Wouldthatyoucouldliveonthefragranceoftheearth,andlikeanairplantbesustained bythelight. Butsinceyoumustkilltoeat,androbthenewlybornofitsmother’smilktoquenchyour thirst,letitthenbeanactofworship, Andletyourboardstandanaltaronwhichthepureandtheinnocentofforestandplain aresacrificedforthatwhichispurerandstillmoreinnocentinman. WHENyoukillabeastsaytohiminyourheart: “Bythesamepowerthatslaysyou,Itooamslain;andItooshallbeconsumed. Forthelawthatdeliveredyouintomyhandshalldelivermeintoamightierhand. Yourbloodandmybloodisnaughtbutthesapthatfeedsthetreeofheaven.” ANDwhenyoucrushanapplewithyourteeth,saytoitinyourheart: “Yourseedsshallliveinmybody,

Andthebudsofyourto–morrowshallblossominmyheart,Andyourfragranceshallbe mybreath, Andtogetherweshallrejoicethroughalltheseasons.” ANDintheautumn,whenyougatherthegrapesofyourvineyardsforthewinepress,say inyourheart: “Itooamavineyard,andmyfruitshallbegatheredforthewinepress,Andlikenewwine Ishallbekeptineternalvessels.” Andinwinter,whenyoudrawthewine,lettherebeinyourheartasongforeachcup; Andlettherebeinthesongaremembrancefortheautumndays,andforthevineyard,and forthewinepress.

ONWORK THENaploughmansaid,SpeaktousofWork. Andheanswered,saying: Youworkthatyoumaykeeppacewiththeearthandthesouloftheearth. Fortobeidleistobecomeastrangeruntotheseasons,andtostepoutoflife’sprocession thatmarchesinmajestyandproudsubmissiontowardstheinfinite. WHENyouworkyouareaflutethroughwhoseheartthewhisperingofthehoursturnsto music. Whichofyouwouldbeareed,dumbandsilent,whenallelsesingstogetherinunison? ALWAYSyouhavebeentoldthatworkisacurseandlabouramisfortune. ButIsaytoyouthatwhenyouworkyoufulfillapartofearth’sfurthestdream,assigned toyouwhenthatdreamwasborn, Andinkeepingyourselfwithlabouryouareintruthlovinglife,Andtolovelifethrough labouristobeintimatewithlife’sinmostsecret. BUTifyouinyourpaincallbirthanafflictionandthesupportofthefleshacursewritten uponyourbrow,thenIanswerthatnaughtbutthesweatofyourbrowshallwashaway thatwhichiswritten. YOUhavebeentoldalsothatlifeisdarkness,andinyourwearinessyouechowhatwas saidbytheweary. AndIsaythatlifeisindeeddarknesssavewhenthereisurge,Andallurgeisblindsave whenthereisknowledge. Andallknowledgeisvainsavewhenthereiswork,Andallworkisemptysavewhen thereislove;Andwhenyouworkwithloveyoubindyourselftoyourself,andtoone another,andtoGod. ANDwhatisittoworkwithlove?

Itistoweavetheclothwiththreadsdrawnfromyourheart,evenasifyourbelovedwere towearthatcloth. Itistobuildahousewithaffection,evenasifyourbelovedweretodwellinthathouse. Itistosowseedswithtendernessandreaptheharvestwithjoy,evenasifyourbeloved weretoeatthefruit. Itistochargeallthingsyourfashionwithabreathofyourownspirit,Andtoknowthatal theblesseddeadarestandingaboutyouandwatching. OFTENhaveIheardyousay,asifspeakinginsleep,“Hewhoworksinmarble,andfinds theshapeofhisownsoulinthestone,isnoblerthanhewhoploughsthesoil. Andhewhoseizestherainbowtolayitonaclothinthelikenessofman,ismorethanhe whomakesthesandalsforourfeet.” ButIsay,notinsleep,butintheoverwakefulnessofnoontide,thatthewindspeaksnot moresweetlytothegiantoaksthantotheleastofallthebladesofgrass;Andhealoneis greatwhoturnsthevoiceofthewindintoasongmadesweeterbyhisownloving. WORKislovemadevisible.Andifyoucannotworkwithlovebutonlywithdistaste,itis betterthatyoushouldleaveyourworkandsitatthegateofthetempleandtakealmsof thosewhoworkwithjoy. Forifyoubakebreadwithindifference,youbakeabitterbreadthatfeedsbuthalfman’s hunger. Andifyougrudgethecrushingofthegrapes,yourgrudgedistillsapoisoninthewine. Andifyousingthoughasangels,andlovenotthesinging,youmuffleman’searstothe voicesofthedayandthevoicesofthenight.

ONJOYANDSORROW THENawomansaid,SpeaktousofJoyandSorrow. Andheanswered: Yourjoyisyoursorrowunmasked. Andtheselfsamewellfromwhichyourlaughterriseswasoftentimesfilledwithyour tears. Andhowelsecanitbe? Thedeeperthatsorrowcarvesintoyourbeing,themorejoyyoucancontain. Isnotthecupthatholdsyourwinetheverycupthatwasburnedinthepotter’soven? Andisnotthelutethatsoothesyourspirittheverywoodthatwashollowedwithknives? Whenyouarejoyous,lookdeepintoyourheartandyoushallfinditisonlythatwhichhas givenyousorrowthatisgivingyoujoy.

Whenyouaresorrowful,lookagaininyourheart,andyoushallseethatintruthyouare weepingforthatwhichhasbeenyourdelight. SOMEofyousay,“Joyisgreaterthansorrow,”andotherssay,“Nay,sorrowisthe greater.” ButIsayuntoyou,theyareinseparable. Togethertheycome,andwhenonesitsalonewithyouatyourboard,rememberthatthe otherisasleepuponyourbed. VERILYyouaresuspendedlikescalesbetweenyoursorrowandyourjoy. Onlywhenyouareemptyareyouatstandstillandbalanced. Whenthetreasure–keeperliftsyoutoweighhisgoldandhissilver,needsmustyourjoy oryoursorrowriseorfall.

ONHOUSES THENamasoncameforthandsaid,SpeaktousofHouses. Andheansweredandsaid: Buildofyourimaginingsabowerinthewildernessereyoubuildahousewithinthecity walls. Forevenasyouhavehome–comingsinyourtwilight,sohasthewandererinyou,theever distantandalone. Yourhouseisyourlargerbody. Itgrowsinthesunandsleepsinthestillnessofthenight;anditisnotdreamless. Doesnotyourhousedream?anddreaming,leavethecityforgroveorhilltop? WOULDthatIcouldgatheryourhousesintomyhand,andlikeasowerscatterthemin forestandmeadow. Wouldthevalleyswereyourstreets,andthegreenpathsy...