And seek not the depths of your knowledge with staff or sounding line. The teacher who walks in the shadow of the temple, among his followers, gives not of his wisdom but rather of his faith and his lovingness.
If he is indeed wise he does not bid you enter the house of his wisdom, but rather leads you to the threshold of your own mind. The astronomer may speak to you of his understanding of space, but he cannot give you his understanding.
The musician may sing to you of the rhythm which is in all space, but he cannot give you the ear which arrests the rhythm nor the voice that echoes it. And he who is versed in the science of numbers can tell of the regions of weight and measure, but he cannot conduct you thither. For without words, in friendship, all thoughts, all desires, all expectations are born and shared, with joy that is unacclaimed.
For that which you love most in him may be clearer in his absence, as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain. And let there be no purpose in friendship save the deepening of the spirit. For love that seeks aught but the disclosure of its own mystery is not love but a net cast forth: and only the unprofitable is caught. And when you can no longer dwell in the solitude of your heart you live in your lips, and sound is a diversion and a pastime.
For thought is a bird of space, that in a cage of words may indeed unfold its wings but cannot fly. And there are those who talk, and without knowledge or forethought reveal a truth which they themselves do not understand. When you meet your friend on the roadside or in the market place, let the spirit in you move your lips and direct your tongue.
You would adjust your conduct and even direct the course of your spirit according to hours and seasons. And that that which sings and contemplates in you is still dwelling within the bounds of that first moment which scattered the stars into space.
Who among you does not feel that his power to love is boundless? And yet who does not feel that very love, though boundless, encompassed within the centre of his being, and moving not from love thought to love thought, nor from love deeds to other love deeds? But if in your thought you must measure time into seasons, let each season encircle all the other seasons,. And one of the elders of the city said, Speak to us of Good and Evil.
Verily when good is hungry it seeks food even in dark caves, and when it thirsts it drinks even of dead waters. And a ship without rudder may wander aimlessly among perilous isles yet sink not to the bottom. You are good when you strive to give of yourself. For when you strive for gain you are but a root that clings to the earth and sucks at her breast. Yet you are not evil when you go thither limping. Even those who limp go not backward. But you who are strong and swift, see that you do not limp before the lame, deeming it kindness.
But in some of you that longing is a torrent rushing with might to the sea, carrying the secrets of the hillsides and the songs of the forest. And in others it is a flat stream that loses itself in angles and bends and lingers before it reaches the shore.
You pray in your distress and in your need; would that you might pray also in the fullness of your joy and in your days of abundance.
And if it is for your comfort to pour your darkness into space, it is also for your delight to pour forth the dawning of your heart. And if you cannot but weep when your soul summons you to prayer, she should spur you again and yet again, though weeping, until you shall come laughing.
When you pray you rise to meet in the air those who are praying at that very hour, and whom save in prayer you may not meet. Therefore let your visit to that temple invisible be for naught but ecstasy and sweet communion.
And I cannot teach you the prayer of the seas and the forests and the mountains. But you who are born of the mountains and the forests and the seas can find their prayer in your heart,. It is thy urge in us that would turn our nights, which are thine, into days which are thine also. Then a hermit, who visited the city once a year, came forth and said, Speak to us of Pleasure.
And I fain would have you sing it with fullness of heart; yet I would not have you lose your hearts in the singing. Some of your youth seek pleasure as if it were all, and they are judged and rebuked. I would not judge nor rebuke them. I would have them seek. And some of your elders remember pleasures with regret like wrongs committed in drunkenness. And in their fear of seeking and remembering they shun all pleasures, lest they neglect the spirit or offend against it. Oftentimes in denying yourself pleasure you do but store the desire in the recesses of your being.
And it is yours to bring forth sweet music from it or confused sounds. Go to your fields and your gardens, and you shall learn that it is the pleasure of the bee to gather honey of the flower,. And to both, bee and flower, the giving and the receiving of pleasure is a need and an ecstasy. Where shall you seek beauty, and how shall you find her unless she herself be your way and your guide? She speaks in our spirit. Her voice yields to our silences like a faint light that quivers in fear of the shadow.
And with her cries came the sound of hoofs, and the beating of wings and the roaring of lions. But rather an image you see though you close your eyes and a song you hear though you shut your ears. But you are life and you are the veil.
Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror. And an old priest said, Speak to us of Religion. And that which is neither deed nor reflection, but a wonder and a surprise ever springing in the soul, even while the hands hew the stone or tend the loom?
All your hours are wings that beat through space from self to self. He who wears his morality but as his best garment were better naked. And he to whom worshipping is a window, to open but also to shut, has not yet visited the house of his soul whose windows are from dawn to dawn.
And take with you all men: For in adoration you cannot fly higher than their hopes nor humble yourself lower than their despair. And look into space; you shall see Him walking in the cloud, outstretching His arms in the lightning and descending in rain. Then Almitra spoke, saying, We would ask now of Death. Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.
Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd when he stands before the king whose hand is to be laid upon him in honour. And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?
And Almitra the seeress said, Blessed be this day and this place and your spirit that has spoken. Then he descended the steps of the Temple and all the people followed him. And he reached his ship and stood upon the deck. We wanderers, ever seeking the lonelier way, begin no day where we have ended another day; and no sunrise finds us where sunset left us. Even while the earth sleeps we travel. We are the seeds of the tenacious plant, and it is in our ripeness and our fullness of heart that we are given to the wind and are scattered.
But should my voice fade in your ears, and my love vanish in your memory, then I will come again,. And though death may hide me, and the greater silence enfold me, yet again will I seek your understanding. If aught I have said is truth, that truth shall reveal itself in a clearer voice, and in words more kin to your thoughts. I go with the wind, people of Orphalese, but not down into emptiness; And if this day is not a fulfilment of your needs and my love, then let it be a promise till another day.
The mist that drifts away at dawn, leaving but dew in the fields, shall rise and gather into a cloud and then fall down in rain. In the stillness of the night I have walked in your streets, and my spirit has entered your houses,. I mirrored the summits in you and the bending slopes, and even the passing flocks of your thoughts and your desires. And to my silence came the laughter of your children in streams, and the longing of your youths in rivers.
Like a giant oak tree covered with apple blossoms is the vast man in you. His might binds you to the earth, his fragrance lifts you into space, and in his durability you are deathless. To measure you by your smallest deed is to reckon the power of ocean by the frailty of its foam.
And though heavy-grounded ships await the tide upon your shores, yet, even like an ocean, you cannot hasten your tides. Yet spring, reposing within you, smiles in her drowsiness and is not offended. He saw but the good in us. Your thoughts and my words are waves from a sealed memory that keeps records of our yesterdays,.
Wise men have come to you to give you of their wisdom. I came to take of your wisdom:. While you, heedless of its expansion, bewail the withering of your days. It is life in quest of life in bodies that fear the grave. Whenever you pass by the field where you have laid your ancestors look well thereupon, and you shall see yourselves and your children dancing hand in hand. Others have come to you to whom for golden promises made unto your faith you have given but riches and power and glory.
Surely there is no greater gift to a man than that which turns all his aims into parching lips and all life into a fountain. Yet was it not your loving mindfulness of my days and my nights that made food sweet to my mouth and girdled my sleep with visions? You give much and know not that you give at all. Verily the kindness that gazes upon itself in a mirror turns to stone,. Why seek you the unattainable? But were their solitude deeper they would have known that I sought but the secret of your joy and your pain,.
And I the believer was also the doubter; For often have I put my finger in my own wound that I might have the greater belief in you and the greater knowledge of you. Life, and all that lives, is conceived in the mist and not in the crystal.
And who knows but a crystal is mist in decay? And is it not a dream which none of you remember having dreamt, that builded your city and fashioned all there is in it?
And the clay that fills your ears shall be pierced by those fingers that kneaded it. And you shall see. After saying these things he looked about him, and he saw the pilot of his ship standing by the helm and gazing now at the full sails and now at the distance. And these my mariners, who have heard the choir of the greater sea, they too have heard me patiently. Now they shall wait no longer. The stream has reached the sea, and once more the great mother holds her son against her breast.
And if it suffices not, then again must we come together and together stretch our hands unto the giver. It was but yesterday we met in a dream.
You have sung to me in my aloneness, and I of your longings have built a tower in the sky. If in the twilight of memory we should meet once more, we shall speak again together and you shall sing to me a deeper song.
So saying he made a signal to the seamen, and straightway they weighed anchor and cast the ship loose from its moorings, and they moved eastward. And a cry came from the people as from a single heart, and it rose into the dusk and was carried out over the sea like a great trumpeting. Only Almitra was silent, gazing after the ship until it had vanished into the mist. And when all the people were dispersed she still stood alone upon the sea-wall, remembering in her heart his saying,.
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.
Title: The Prophet. Author: Kahlil Gibran. THE PROPHET A lmustafa, 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.
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? 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. Fain would I take with me all that is here.
But how shall I? And alone and without his nest shall the eagle fly across the sun. 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. 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, sleepless 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 shall I come to you, a boundless drop to a boundless ocean. 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 shall my desires flow like a fountain that I may fill their cups? 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. Then said Almitra, Speak to us of Love.
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. 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. 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. Love has no other desire but to fulfil 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 be wounded by your own understanding of love; And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
And he answered saying: You were born together, and together you shall be forevermore. 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. 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.
For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts. And he said: Your children are not your children. 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 tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams. You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
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. And what is fear of need but need itself? Is not dread of thirst when your well is full, the thirst that is unquenchable? 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. And he said: Would that you could live on the fragrance of the earth, and like an air plant be sustained by the light. Your blood and my blood is naught but the sap that feeds the tree of heaven. 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.
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. And what is it to work with love? It is to build a house with affection, even as if your beloved were to dwell in that house. It is to charge all things you fashion with a breath of your own spirit, And to know that all the blessed dead are standing about you and watching.
Work is love made visible. 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.
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives? Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy. Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced. And he answered and said: Build of your imaginings a bower in the wilderness ere you build a house within the city walls.
Your house is your larger body. But these things are not yet to be. Have you peace, the quiet urge that reveals your power? Have you remembrances, the glimmering arches that span the summits of the mind? Tell me, have you these in your houses? Though its hands are silken, its heart is of iron. It lulls you to sleep only to stand by your bed and jeer at the dignity of the flesh. It makes mock of your sound senses, and lays them in thistledown like fragile vessels.
But you, children of space, you restless in rest, you shall not be trapped nor tamed. Your house shall be not an anchor but a mast. We do not guarantee that these techniques will work for you. Some of the techniques listed in The Prophet may require a sound knowledge of Hypnosis, users are advised to either leave those sections or must have a basic understanding of the subject before practicing them.
DMCA and Copyright : The book is not hosted on our servers, to remove the file please contact the source url. If you see a Google Drive link instead of source url, means that the file witch you will get after approval is just a summary of original book or the file has been already removed.
Loved each and every part of this book. I will definitely recommend this book to poetry, philosophy lovers. Your Rating:. It was in November , the second dating posthumously from October First published March 2. Second Printing, July 3. Third Printing, January 4. Fourth Printing, September 5. Fifth Printing, July 6. Sixth Printing, January 7. Seventh Printing, September 8. Only numbered copies of his translation are known to have been printed.
The book was translated by a young, then year old, American poet named Madeline Mason Madeline Mason spent much of her childhood and teenage years in England and France where her parents had homes, hence her excellent command of the French language. In the early s, Gibran drew a pencil portrait of her, and they became close friends.
The translator was Liesbeth Christina Valckenier-Suringar , a social worker and teacher from Amsterdam. Antonia Irene Risos in So, betwixt August 3rd printing of the standard edition and November deluxe edition , something had happened that made Gibran want to change that very sentence.
Considering that Madeline and Gibran were close friends, and that he was proficient in French 12, we may assume with a fairly high degree of certainty that the two of them reviewed her French translation together. Most probably, Madeline translated The Prophet in the course of and , during the same period her collection of poems was completed and prepared for publication.
At that time, she must have interacted closely with Gibran for the selection of his drawings that were used as illustrations in Hill Fragments. That is a hypothesis that we believe to 11 Ibidem.
Between 20 October and 13 July , he studied there, perfecting his command of the Arabic language, learning French and discovering Arabic poets and thinkers, as well as Sufism. He was awarded a first prize in poetry. Unfortunately, it cannot be confirmed because neither of the protagonists is alive today.
Thou toilest ever to outreach thy bounds; Thou movest onward, Though the shroud of Night Lie heavy on thy breast; And in the golden sun Thou leapest merrily To distant goals. Earth fain would stay thee. And yet thou lovest her well. We can now narrow down the period of time during which Gibran decided on the change: between August 3rd printing and January 4th printing , i.
It was translated from the Arabic by Andrew Ghareeb. After a while I turned, and lo, I beheld three figures sitting upon a rock near by, And I saw that the mist veiled them, and yet it veiled them not.
Slowly I walked toward the rock whereon they sat, drawn by some power which I know not. A few paces off I stood and gazed upon them, for there was magic in the place Which crystallized my purpose and bestirred my fancy. And love without beauty is like flowers without fragrance, and fruit without seeds. Life, Love, and Beauty are three entities in one self, free and boundless, Which know neither change nor separation.
And rebellion without right is like spring in an arid and barren desert. Life, Rebellion, and Right are three entities in one self, And in them is neither change nor separation. And freedom without thought is like a spirit confounded. Life, Freedom, and Thought are three entities in one eternal self, Which neither vanish nor pass away. And I closed my eyes, listening to the echo of the saying which I heard. When I opened my eyes, I beheld naught but the sea hidden beneath a blanket of mist; And I moved closer toward that rock And I beheld naught but a pillar of incense rising unto the sky.
The second text in which Gibran wrote of the restless sea is his epic poem The Earth Gods, which was published on 14 March , just a few weeks before he passed away on 10 April. Rivers ran about their feet; The mist floated across their breasts, And their heads rose in majesty above the world.
Then they spoke, and like distant thunder Their voices rolled over the plains. I would not move a hand to create a world Nor to erase one.
Indeed, they first published The Prophet in January , one full year after Knopf published the 4th printing of the book with the updated sentence. The text has remained unchanged until recently: suffice it to consult their 8th printing of November and their 23rd printing of , and the Penguin Books paperback edition of This particularly confusing situation regarding the change eventually got clarified once and for all in the ultimate, world-wide edition of by Penguin Books, which includes a foreword by Rupi Kaur, an Indian-born Canadian poetess, visual artist and illustrator.
0コメント