Kahlil Gibran – The Astronomer

In the shadow of the temple my friend and I saw a blind man sitting alone.  And my friend said, “Behold the wisest man of our land.”

Then I left my friend and approached the blind man and greeted him. And we conversed.

After a while I said, “Forgive my question; but since when has thou been blind?”

“From my birth,” he answered.

Said I, “And what path of wisdom followest thou?”

Said he, “I am an astronomer.”

Then he placed his hand upon his breast saying, “I watch all these suns and moons and stars.”

Kahlil Gibran – And When My Sorrow was Born

And when my Joy was born, I held it in my arms and stood on the

house-top shouting, “Come ye, my neighbours, come and see, for Joy

this day is born unto me.  Come and behold this gladsome thing that

laugheth in the sun.”

But none of my neighbours came to look upon my Joy, and great was

my astonishment.

And every day for seven moons I proclaimed my Joy from the

house-top—and yet no one heeded me.  And my Joy and I were alone,

unsought and unvisited.

Then my Joy grew pale and weary because no other heart but mine

held its loveliness and no other lips kissed its lips.

Then my Joy died of isolation.

And now I only remember my dead Joy in remembering my dead Sorrow.

But memory is an autumn leaf that murmurs a while in the wind and

then is heard no more.

Emily Dickinson – I never hear the word “Escape” (Poem 144)

I never hear the word “Escape”
Without a quicker blood,
A sudden expectation –
A flying attitude!

I never hear of prisons broad
By soldiers battered down,
But I tug childish at my bars
Only to fail again!

Kahlil Gibran – Ambition

Three men met at a tavern table.  One was a weaver, another a

carpenter and the third a ploughman.

Said the weaver, “I sold a fine linen shroud today for two pieces

of gold.  Let us have all the wine we want.”

“And I,” said the carpenter, “I sold my best coffin.  We will have

a great roast with the wine.”

“I only dug a grave,” said the ploughman, “but my patron paid me

double.  Let us have honey cakes too.”

And all that evening the tavern was busy, for they called often

for wine and meat and cakes.  And they were merry.

And the host rubbed his hands and smiled at his wife; for his guests

were spending freely.

When they left the moon was high, and they walked along the road

singing and shouting together.

The host and his wife stood in the tavern door and looked after

them.

“Ah!” said the wife, “these gentlemen!  So freehanded and so gay!

If only they could bring us such luck every day!  Then our son need

not be a tavern-keeper and work so hard.  We could educate him,

and he could become a priest.”

John Keats – The Human Seasons

Four Seasons fill the measure of the year;

     There are four seasons in the mind of man:

He has his lusty Spring, when fancy clear

     Takes in all beauty with an easy span:

He has his Summer, when luxuriously

     Spring's honied cud of youthful thought he loves

To ruminate, and by such dreaming high

     Is nearest unto heaven: quiet coves

His soul has in its Autumn, when his wings

     He furleth close; contented so to look

On mists in idleness—to let fair things

     Pass by unheeded as a threshold brook.

He has his Winter too of pale misfeature,

Or else he would forego his mortal nature.