Between Night and Morn

by Kahlil Gibran

  And sour as the hard grapes, and I said to

  Myself, “Woe to me, for I have placed a

  Curse in the mouths of the people, and an

  Ailment in their bodies. What have you

  Done, my soul, with the sweet sap which

  Your roots have sucked from the earth, and

  The fragrance which you have drawn from

  The sky?” In anger did I tear the strong

  And old tree of my soul, with each of the

  Struggling roots, from the depths of the

  Earth.

  I uprooted it from the past, and took

  From it the memories of one thousand

  Springs and one thousand Autumns, and I

  Planted the tree of my soul in another

  Place. It was now in a field afar from

  The path of Time; and I tended it in day

  And in night, saying within me, “Wakefulness

  Will bring us closer to the stars.”

  I watered it with blood and tears, saying,

  “There is a flavour in blood, and a

  Sweetness in tears.” When Spring returned,

  My tree bloomed again, and in the Summer it

  Bore fruit. And when Autumn came, I gathered

  All the ripe fruit upon a golden plate and

  Offered it in the public path, and the people

  Passed but none desired my fruit.

  Then I took one fruit and brought it to my

  Lips, and it was sweet as the honeycomb

  And exhilarating as the wine of Babylon

  And fragrant as the jasmine. And I cried

  Out, saying, “The people do not want a

  Blessing in their mouths, nor a truth in

  Their hearts, for Blessing is the daughter

  Of Tears, and Truth is the son of Blood.”

  I left the noisome city to sit in the shadow

  Of the solitary tree of my soul, in a

  Field far from life’s path.

  Be silent, my heart, until Dawn comes;

  Be silent and attend my story;

  Yesterday my thoughts were a boat sailing

  Amidst the waves in the sea, and moving

  With the winds from one land to another.

  And my boat was empty except of seven

  Jars of rainbow colours; and the time

  Came when I grew weary of moving about

  On the face of the sea, and I said to

  Myself, “I shall return with the empty

  Boat of my thoughts to the harbour of the

  Isle of my birth.”

  And I prepared by colouring my boat yellow

  Like the sunset, and green like the heart

  Of Spring, and blue like the sky, and red

  Like the anemone. And on the masts and

  On the rudder I drew strange figures that

  Compelled the attention and dazzled the

  Eye. And as I ended my task, the boat of

  My thoughts seemed as a prophetic vision,

  Sailing between the two infinities, the

  Sea and the sky.

  I entered the harbour of the isle of my

  Birth, and the people surged to meet me

  With singing and merriment. And the

  Throngs invited me to enter the city;

  And they were plucking their instruments

  And sounding their tambourines.

  Such welcome was mine because my boat

  Was beautifully decorated, and none

  Entered and saw the interior of the

  Boat of my thoughts, nor asked what

  I had brought from beyond the seas. Nor

  Could they observe that I had brought

  My boat back empty, for its brilliance

  Had rendered them blind. Thereupon I

  Said within myself, “I have led the

  People astray, and with seven jars of

  Colours I have cheated their eyes.”

  Thereafter, I embarked in the boat of

  My thoughts, again to set sail. I

  Visited the East Islands and gathered

  Myrrh, frankincense and sandalwood, and

  Placed them in my boat.… I roamed the

  West Islands and brought ivory and ruby

  And emerald and many rare gems.… I

  Journeyed the South Islands and carried

  Back with me beautiful armours and

  Glittering swords and spears and all

  Varieties of weapons.… I filled the

  Boat of my thoughts with the choicest

  And most precious things on earth, and

  Returned to the harbour of the isle of

  My birth, saying, “The people shall again

  Glorify me, but with honesty, and they

  Shall again invite me to enter their

  City, but with merit.”

  And when I reached the harbour, none

  Came to meet me.… I walked the streets

  Of my earlier glory but no person looked

  Upon me.… I stood in the market place

  Shouting to the people of the treasures

  In my boat, and they mocked at me and

  Heeded not.

  I returned to the harbour with spiritless

  Heart and disappointment and confusion.

  And when I gazed upon my boat, I observed

  A thing which I had not seen during my

  Voyage, and I exclaimed, “The waves of

  The sea have done away with the colours and

  The figures on my boat and caused it to look

  Like a skeleton.” The winds and the spray

  Together with the burning sun had effaced

  The brilliant hues and my boat looked now

  Like tattered grey raiment. I could not

  Observe these changes from amid my treasures,

  For I had blinded my eyes from the inside.

  I had gathered the most precious things on

  Earth and placed them in a floating chest

  Upon the face of the water and returned to

  My people, but they cast me away and could

  Not see me, for their eyes had been allured

  By empty, shimmering objects.

  At that hour I left the boat of my thoughts

  For the City of the Dead, and sat in the

  Midst of the trim graves, contemplating

  Their secrets.

  Be silent, my heart, until Dawn comes; be

  Silent, for the raging tempest is ridiculing

  Your inner whispering, and the caves of

  The valleys do not echo the vibration of

  Your strings.

  Be silent, my heart, until Morn comes,

  For he who awaits patiently the coming

  Of Dawn will be embraced longingly by

  Morningtide.

  Dawn is breaking. Speak if you are able,

  My heart. Here is the procession of

  Morningtide.… Why do you not speak?

  Has not the silence of the night left

  A song in your inner depths with which

  You may meet Dawn?

  Here are the swarms of doves and the

  Nightingales moving in the far portion

  Of the valley. Are you capable of flying

  With the birds, or has the horrible night

  Weakened your wings? The shepherds are

  Leading the sheep from their folds; has

  The phantom of the night left strength

  In you so you may walk behind them to

  The green prairies? The young men and

  Women are walking gracefully toward the

  Vineyards. Will you be able to stand

  And walk with them? Rise, my heart, and

  Walk with Dawn, for the night has passed,

  And the fear of darkness has vanished with

  Its black dreams and ghastly thoughts and

  Insane travels.

  Rise, my heart,
and raise your voice with

  Music, for he who shares not Dawn with

  His songs is one of the sons of ever-Darkness.

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  copyright © 1972 by Philosophical Library, Inc.

  Translated by Anthony Rizcallah Ferris

  Edited by Martin L. Wolf

  This 2011 edition distributed by Open Road Integrated Media

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  New York, NY 10014

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  EBOOKS BY KAHLIL GIBRAN

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