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02 - The Prophet - Kahlil Gibran · Wisdom of the Ages Library

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  Chapter three on marriage. Then Almetri spoke again and said, and what of
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  marriage? Master? And he answered, saying, you were born together,
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  and together you shall be forevermore. You shall be together when the white wings
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  of death scatter your days. Ay, you shall be together even in the
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  silent memory of God. But let there be spaces in your togetherness, And
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  let the winds of the heavens dance between you. Love one another, but
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  make not a bond of love. Let it rather be a moving sea between
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  the shores of your souls. Fill each other's cup, but drink not from
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  one cup. Give one another of your bread, but eat not from the
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  same loaf. Sing and dance together, and be joyous. But let each
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  one of you be alone, even as the strings of a lute are alone,
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  though they quiver the same music. Give your hearts, but not unto
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  each other's keeping. For only the hand of life can contain your hearts.
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  And stand together, yet not too near together, for the pillars of the
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  temple stand apart, and the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each
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  other's shadow. Chapter four on children and a woman who held a babe against
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  her. Bosom said, speak to us of children, and he said,
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  your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of life's
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  longing for itself. They come through you, but not from you. And
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  though they are with you, yet they belong not to you. You may
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  give them your love, but not your thoughts, for they have their own
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  thoughts. You may house their bodies, but not their souls, for their
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  souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, row which you cannot visit, not
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  even in your dreams. You may strive to be like them, but seek
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  not to make them like you, For life goes not backward, nor tarries
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  with yesterday. You are the bows from which your children, as living arrows,
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  are sent forth. The archer sees the mark upon the path of the
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  infinite, and he bends you with his might, that his arrows may go
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  swift and far. Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness,
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  for even as he loves the arrow that flies, so he loves also the
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  bow that is stable. Chapter five. On giving, then said a rich
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  man speak to us of giving. And he answered, you give but little
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  when you give of your possessions. It is when you give of yourself that
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  you truly give, For what are your possessions of things you keep and guard
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  for fear you may need them tomorrow and tomorrow. What shall tomorrow bring to
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  the overprudent dog burying bones in the trackless sand as he follows the pilgrims to
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  the Holy city. And what is fear of need? But need itself?
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  Is it? Not? Dread of thirst? When you're well is full the
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  thirst that is unquenchable. There are those who give little of the much which
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  they have, and they give it for recognition, and their hidden desire makes
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  their gifts unwholesome. And there are those who have little and give it all.
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  These are the believers in life and the bounty of life, and their
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  coffer is never empty. There are those who give with joy, and that
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  joy is their reward. And there are those who give with pain, and
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  that pain is their baptism. And there are those who give and not pain
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  in giving, nor do they seek joy, nor give with mindfulness of virtue.
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  They give as in yonder Valley the myrtle breathes its fragrance into space.
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  Through the hands of such as these, God speaks, and from behind their
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  eyes he smiles upon the earth. It is well to give when asked,
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  but it is better to give unasked, through understanding, and to the open
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  handed. The search for one who shall receive is joy greater than giving,
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  and is there aught. You would withhold all you have shall some day be
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  given. Therefore give now, that the season of giving may be yours and
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  not your inheritors. You often say I would give, but only to the
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  deserving. The trees in your orchard, say not so, nor the flocks
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  in your pasture. They give that they may live. For to withhold is
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  to perish. Surely, he who is worthy to receive his days and his
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  nights is worthy of all else from you. And he who has deserved to
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  drink from the ocean of life deserves to fill his cup from your little stream.
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  And what desert greater shall there be than that which lies in the courage
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  and the confidence, nay, the charity of receiving. And who are you
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  that men should rend their bosom and unveil their pride, that you may see
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  their worth naked and their pride unabashed. See first that you yourself deserve to
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  be a giver and an instrument of giving, For in truth, it is
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  life that gives unto life, While you who deem yourself a giver, are
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  but a witness, and you receivers, And you are all receivers. Assume
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  no weight of gratitude, lest you lay a yoke upon yourself and upon him
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  who gives. Rather rise together with the giver on his gifts as on wings.
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  For to be overmindful of your debt is to doubt his generosity. Who
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  has the free hearted Earth for mother, and God for Father. Chapter six
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  on eating and drinking. Then an old man, a keeper of an inn,
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  said, speak to us of eating and drinking? And he said,
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  would that you could live on the fragrance of the earth, and like an
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  air plant, be sustained by the light. But since you must kill to
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  eat, and rob the newly born of its mother's milk to quench your thirst,
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  let it then be an active worship. And let your board stand an
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  altar on which the pure and the innocent of forest and plane are sacrificed for
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  them that which is purer and still more innocent in man. When you kill
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  a beast, say to him in your heart, by the same power that
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  slays you, I too am slain, and I too shall be consumed for
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  the law that delivered you into my hand shall deliver me into a mightier hand.
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  Your blood, and my blood is naught but the sap that feeds the
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  tree of heaven. And when you crush an apple with your teeth, say
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  to it in your heart. Your seeds shall live in my body, and
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  the buds of your tomorrow shall blossom in my heart. And your fragrance shall
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  be my breath. And together we shall rejoice through all the seasons. And
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  in the autumn, when you gather the grapes of your vineyards for the wine
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  press, say in your heart, I too am a vineyard, and my
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  fruit shall be gathered for the wine press, and like new wine, I
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  shall be kept in eternal vessels. And in winter, when you draw the
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  wine, let there be in your heart a song for each cup. And
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  let there be in the song a remembrance for the autumn days, and for
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  the vineyard, and for the wine press. And on work. Then a
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  plowman said, speak to us of work. And he answered, saying,
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  you work, that you may keep pace with the earth and the soul of
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  the earth. For to be idle is to become a stranger unto the seasons,
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  and to step out of life's procession that marches in majesty and proud submission
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  towards the infinite. When you work, you are a flute through whose heart
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  the whispering of the hours turns to music, which of you would be a
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  red, dumb and silent when all else sings together in unison always. You
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  have been told that work is a curse and labor a misfortune. But I
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  say to you that when you work, you fulfill a part of Earth's furthest
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  dream assign to you when that dream was born. And in keeping yourself with
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  labor, you are, in truth loving life. And to love life through
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  labor is to be intimate with life's inmost secret. But if you and your
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  pain call birth an affliction and the support of the flesh a curse written upon
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  your brow, then I answer that naught but the sweat of your brow shall
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  wash away that which is written. You have been told also that life is
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  darkness, and in your weariness you echo what was said by the weary,
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  And I say that life is indeed darkness, save where there is urge,
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  and all urge is blind, save where there is knowledge, and all knowledge
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  is vain, save when there is work, and all work is empty,
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  save when there is love. And when you work with love, you bind
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  yourself to yourself, and to one another, and to God. And what
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  is it to work with love? It is to weave the cloth with threads
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  drawn from your heart, even as if your beloved were to wear that cloth.
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  It is to build a house with affection, even as if you're beloved
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  were to dwell in that house. It is to sow seeds with tenderness,
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  and reap the harvest with joy, even as if your beloved were to eat
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  the fruit. It is to charge all things you fashion with a breath of
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  your own spirit, and to know that all the blessed dead are standing about
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  you and watching. Often have I heard you say, as if speaking in
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  sleep, he who works in marble and finds the shape of his own soul
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  in the stone is nobler than he who plows the soil, And he who
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  seizes the rainbow to lay it on a cloth in the likeness of man,
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  is more than he who makes the sandals for our feet. But I say
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  not in sleep, but in the over wakefulness of noontide, that the wind
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  speaks not more sweetly to the giant oaks than to the least of all the
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  blades of grass. And he alone is great who turns the voice of the
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  wind into a song made sweeter by his own loving work is love made visible.
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  And if you cannot work with love, but only with distaste, it
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  is better that you should leave your work and sit at the gate of the
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  temple, and take alms of those who work with joy. For if you
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  bake bread with indifference, you bake a bitter bread that feed reads but half
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  man's hunger. And if you grudge the crushing of the grapes, You're grudge
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  distills a poison in the wine. And if you sing, though as angels
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  and love not the singing, you muffle man's ears to the voices of the
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  day and the voices of the night. End of section two.