Treasured Writings of Kahlil Gibran (58 page)

The Giants

We live in an era whose humblest men are becoming greater than the greatest men of preceding ages. What once preoccupied our minds is now of no consequence. The veil of indifference covers it. The beautiful dreams that once hovered in our consciousness have been dispersed like mist. In their place are giants moving like tempests, raging like seas, breathing like volcanoes.

What destiny will the giants bring the world at the end of their struggles?

Will the farmer return to his field to sow where Death has planted the bones of the dead?

Will the shepherd pasture his flock on fields mown by the sword?

Will the sheep drink from springs whose waters are stained with blood?

Will the worshipper kneel in a profaned temple at whose altars Satanists have danced?

Will the poet compose his songs under stars veiled in gun smoke?

Will the musician strum his lute in a night whose silence was ravished by terror?

Will the mother at the cradle of her infant, brooding on the perils of tomorrow, be able to sing a lullaby?

Can lovers meet and exchange kisses on battlefields still acrid with bomb fumes?

Will Nisan
*
ever return to earth and dress the earth's wounds with its garment?

What will be the destiny of your country and mine? Which giant shall seize the mountains and valleys that produced us and reared us and made us men and women before the face of the sun?

Will Syria remain lying between the wolf lair and the pigsty? Or will it move with the tempest to the lion's den or soar to the eagle's eyrie?

Will the dawn of a new Time ever appear over Lebanon's peaks?

Every time I am alone I ask my soul these questions. But my soul is mute like Destiny.

Which one of you, people, does not ponder day and night on the fate of the world under the rule of the giants intoxicated with the tears of widows and orphans?

I am among those who believe in the Law of Evolution; I believe that ideal entities evolve, like brute beings, and that religions and governments are raised to higher planes.

The law of evolution has a severe and oppressive countenance and those of limited or fearful mind dread it; but its principles are just, and those who study them become enlightened. Through its Reason men are raised above themselves and can approach the sublime.

All around me are dwarves who see the giants emerging; and the dwarves croak like frogs:

“The world has returned to savagery. What science and education have created is being destroyed by the new primitives. We are now like the prehistoric cave dwellers. Nothing distinguishes us from them save our machines of destruction and our improved techniques of slaughter.”

Thus speak those who measure the world's conscience by their own. They measure the range of all Existence by the tiny span of their individual being. As if the sun did not exist but for their warmth, as if the sea was created for them to wash their feet.

From the heart of life, from deep within the universe where the secrets of Creation are stored, the giants rise like winds and ascend like clouds, and convene like mountains. In their struggles age-old problems are being brought to solution.

But man, in spite of all his knowledge and skills, and notwithstanding the love and hatred in his heart, and the torments he endures, is but a tool in the hands of the giants, to reach their goal and accomplish their inevitable high purpose.

The streams of blood shall some day become flowing rivers of wine; and the tears that bedewed the earth shall bring forth aromatic flowers; and the souls that left their abodes shall assemble and appear from behind the new horizon as a new Morn. Then man will realize that he had bought Justice and Reason in the slave market. He will understand that he who works and spends for the sake of Right will never lose.

Nisan shall come, but he who seeks Nisan without Winter's aid, will never find it.

*
The month of April.

Out of Earth

Wrathfully and violently earth comes out of earth;
and gracefully and majestically earth walks over
earth.
Earth from earth, builds palaces and erects towers
and temples,
And earth weaves on earth, legends, doctrines, and
laws.

Then earth becomes tired of the deeds of earth and
wreathes from its halo, dreams and fantasies.

And earth's eyes are then beguiled by earth's slumber
to enduring rest.
And earth calls unto earth:
“I am the womb and the sepulchre, and I shall
remain a womb and a sepulchre until the planets
exist no more and the sun turns into ashes.

O Night

O Night of lovers, inspirer of poets and singers,
O Night of phantoms, of spirits and fancies,
O Night of longing, of hopes and memories,
You are like a giant dwarfing the evening clouds
and towering over the dawn.
With the sword of fear you are armed, and with
the shining moon you are crowned, and with calm
and silence you are veiled.

With a thousand eyes you penetrate the depth
of life,
With a thousand ears you hear the moan
of death and non-existence.
The light of heaven shines through your darkness,
For Day is but light overwhelming us with the
obscurity of the earth.

Before the awe of eternity you open our eyes and
give us hope,
For Day is a deceiver that blinds us
with measures and quantities.
You are perfect silence revealing the secrets of
the awakened spirits in heaven,
But day is an uproar agitating the souls that
lie between the hooves of purpose and wonder.
You are Justice that brings unto the haven of
slumber the dreams of the weak, that they may be united
with the hopes of the strong.

You are a merciful monarch who closes with his
fingers of enchantment the eyes of the miserable,
and conveys their hearts into a gentler realm.

The lovers' spirits find refuge between the folds of
your blue garment,
And upon your feet, drenched with dew, the
forlorn shed their tears.

In the palms of your hands, where lies the fragrance
of the valleys, strangers find ease for their
yearnings.

You are the companion of lovers; you console the
desolate; you shelter the alien and the lonely.
In your shadow the poet's affections rest, and
the hearts of the prophets awaken,
And under your crown the
wisdom of the thinker takes form.
You inspire poets; you bring revelation to the
prophets; you instruct the philosophers.

When my soul wearies of humanity, when my
eyes tire of staring into the face of the day,
I wander where the phantoms
of past ages sleep.

There I pause before a dim presence who strode
with a thousand feet over the earth, setting it
atremble.

There I look into the eyes of shadow, and
listen to the rustle of invisible wings, and feel
the soft touch of the unseen garment of silence,
and withstand the terrors of black darkness.

There I see you, Night, awful and beautiful,
poised between heaven and earth, veiled in
mist, cloaked in cloud, laughing at
the sun, ridiculing the day, taunting the slaves
who sleeplessly worship before the idols.

I see your wrath against kings sleeping upon beds of
velvet and silk;
I see thieves flinching before your vigilant gaze as
you guard the babes in slumber;
I see you weeping over the forced smiles of prostitutes
and smiling over tears of true lovers;
I see your right hand raising up the good and your
feet trampling the wicked.

There, I see you and you see me, Night. And though
terrible, you are like a father to me, and I,
dreaming, envision myself as your son.

The screen of distrust has been removed
from between us, and you reveal to me
your secrets and designs.
And I disclose to you my hopes and my desires.
Your terrors have turned into a melody sweeter and
more soothing to the heart than the whisper of the
flowers.

My fears are vanished and I am more tranquil
than birds.
You have lifted me unto you and held me between
your arms and taught my eyes to see, and my ears
to hear, and my lips to speak, and my heart to
love that which others hate, and to hate that
which others love.