Khalil Gibran is a Lebanese-American poet and painter, of exceptional sensitivity and talent.
In his life (1883 – 1931), he had the opportunity to get to know both the East and the West; he experienced many personal tragedies and losses, but also formed wonderful friendships and great loves.
He was born in northern Lebanon, in an area full of magnificent cedar trees. When he was only twelve years old, he emigrated to America with his mother, two sisters, and half-brother for economic reasons. After two years, he returned to Beirut for high school, and then studied medicine. From Beirut, he traveled through Greece, Italy, and Spain to Paris (1901 – 1903), where he exhibited his drawings, which even caught the attention of Auguste Rodin. In fact, Gibran illustrated his own books, like the great English poet William Blake, so he was often compared to him.
From Europe, he went back to the US, where tuberculosis quickly ravaged his entire family, with his sister, half-brother, and eventually his mother dying. He found solace in studying… In the holy scriptures of all traditions (Bible, texts about Zoroaster and Buddha) and the writings of philosophers, writers, and politicians (Voltaire, Rousseau, Nietzsche, Jefferson, Emerson, and Lincoln), he was most interested in Christian and Islamic philosophy and theology, which shaped him and had a strong influence on his work (writings of St. Augustine, Avicenna, Averroes, Al-Ghazali…). He wrote in Arabic and English.
The first works published in Arabic were collections of short stories “The Bride of the Fields” and “Rebellious Spirits,” followed by the only novel “Broken Wings,” collections of lyrical writings “Tears and Smiles” and “Storms,” and a longer poem “Processions.”
His first book in English, “The Madman,” was published in 1918, and in 1923, “The Prophet” was released, followed by “Jesus, the Son of Man” and “Gods of the Earth.” “The Wanderer” and “The Prophet’s Garden” were published posthumously.
He died at the age of 48 in New York in 1931, and his remains were transported by ship to his native Lebanon and buried with great honors.
Khalil Gibran was an exceptional flash, not only in the Arab world More than in world literature. He used vivid poetic expressions in his writing, as well as everyday speech of the people, which is why he was accepted by all social classes from the Middle East, across Europe to America, where he spent the most time. He seriously contemplated about the life of man in society, emphasized the transience of external phenomena, and pointed out the need for a return to inner permanent values. His most famous, significant, and translated work, The Prophet, brought him worldwide fame. It is a poem about a man who, after returning from a transformative solitude – such as Buddha, Christ, and Muhammad experienced – and before disappearing behind the horizon of this world, addresses those among whom he lived and who recognize him only at the moment they are losing him, as their own lack, and therefore as a possibility and hope of themselves. This is how The Prophet was described by Marko Grčić, our journalist, writer, and translator. Almustafa, chosen and beloved, a prophet, after twelve years spent in exile. I, where he had deeply immersed himself in his inner self, waits for a boat to return to his homeland, and before his final departure, answers various important questions from his fellow townspeople, which also occupy people in all periods and times.
Here are some questions and answers.
Then the teacher said: Tell us about Teaching.
And he said:
No one can reveal to you anything except what has already been lying, half asleep, in the beginnings of your knowledge.
The teacher who walks in the shadow of the temple among the disciples does not give from his wisdom, but from his faith and love.
If he is truly wise, he does not offer you to enter the house of his wisdom, but rather leads you to the threshold of your spirit.
An astronomer can tell you about his understanding of the universe, but he cannot give you his understanding.
A musician can sing to you about the rhythm that is in the entire universe, but he cannot give you an ear that captures the rhythm, nor a voice that reflects it.
And the one who is knowledgeable in the science of numbers can speak about the realms of weight and measure,
but he cannot give you Take him there.
Because the sight of one man does not lend its wings
to another man.
And just as each of you stands alone in God’s knowledge, so
must each of you be alone in your knowledge of God and in
your understanding of the earth.
And one man said: Tell us about self-knowledge.
And he replied, saying:
Your hearts know in silence the mysteries of day and night.
But your ears thirst for the voice of knowledge in your hearts.
You would like to know in words
what you have always known in thought.
You would like to touch with your fingers the naked body of your dreams.
And it is good that it is so.
And the treasure of your abysmal depths would be revealed to your eyes.
But let there be no scales to measure your unknown treasure;
And do not seek the depths of your knowledge with a rod
or a depth gauge.
For, the self is an abyssal and boundless sea.
Do not say: “I have found the truth”, but rather:
“I have found one truth.”
Do not say: “I have found the path of the soul.”
Rather say: “I have met a soul that follows its own path.”
For, the soul walks all paths.
The soul does not walk on a rope or a dépense. like a reed.
The soul opens up like a lotus with countless petals.
Seven reprimands
I reprimanded my heart seven times!
The first time: when I tried to achieve
a higher position by exploiting the weaker ones.
The second time: when I pretended to be crippled
in front of those who were disabled.
The third time: after I was given the choice,
I chose the easy over the difficult.
The fourth time: when, making mistakes,
I comforted myself with the mistakes of others.
The fifth time: when I was obedient out of fear,
claiming then that I was strong in patience.
The sixth time: when I lifted my robe
to avoid the mud of life.
The seventh time: when I sang praises to God
and thought that singing was a virtue.
A handful of sand from the shore
When you confide your trouble to your neighbor,
you give him a part of your heart.
If he has a great soul, he thanks you;
and if he is small-minded, he belittles you.
Progress is not just fixing the past;
It is a continuous movement towards the future.
…
Art is a step from the visible, known,
to the unknown.
…
I avoid people who think that audacity Courage, and tenderness is cowardice.
And I avoid those who think that blabbing
is wisdom, and silence ignorance.
They tell me: If you see a slave sleeping,
do not wake him up
because, perhaps, he dreams of freedom.
I tell them: If you see a slave sleeping,
wake him up and explain freedom to him.
Denial is a lower level of intelligence.
Courage is a volcano;
the seed of indecision
does not sprout in its crater.
…
Learning nourishes the seed, but it alone does not give
any seeds.
I use hate as a weapon to defend myself; if I were strong,
I would never need such weapons.
Among people there are murderers who have never
killed,
thieves who have never stolen,
and liars who tell the plain truth.
Preserve me from the wisdom that does not cry,
philosophy that does not laugh,
and greatness that does not bow before children.
Oh, great intellectual Being! You who are hidden
and who exist in the universe and for it,
you can hear me because you are in me and see
me because you see everything;
I beg you, sow the seed of your wisdom in my soul
to grow like a sapling in your forest
and to bear your fruit. Amen.
Chosen: Lovorka Cvitić