Khalil Gibran, Voice of the East

Kahlil Gibran, Voice of the East

Kahlil Gibran, who passed away about sixteen years ago, was, and is, an authentic visionary and voice of the East. He hailed from Mount Lebanon, which has been known for ages to waft the breeze and buoyancy, emanating from the invisible heights of spiritual seeking after the Eternal. His works, therefore, both in Arabic and English, have on them a clearly visible seal and sanction of the soul. And so they are an abiding inspiration to all those who are earnest enquires of the ways and workings, intuitions and intimations of the Spirit “which bloweth where it listeth”.

His masterpiece is The Prophet which, like several other writings of his, has been translated into over a score of the world’s languages. But lately his earlier books, Tears and Laughter and Spirits Rebellious, reprinted in U. S., America, have been for the first time exhibited on some of the bookstalls in India. They, however, only confirm the original impression that he is a monarch among mystics.

Who is a mystic? He is a person who, as the root-meaning of the word reveals, sees with his eyes shut! But he sees with his inner eyes, and what he thus sees is an unending expanse of wonder. And is not wonder the beginning as well as the end of all poetry and philosophy?

This wonderland of the Spirit, of which the variegated world without is but a poor and pale reflection, is an archway–a rainbow. And like the physical rainbow it is also a child of sun and shower, of laughter and tears–“tears that purify my heart and reveal to me the secret of life and its mystery; laughter that brings me closer to my fellow-men.”

And so the poet sings of this ever-present rainbow of life. Between the two ends of this seven-coloured archway are gathered together Man and Woman, Nature and Human Nature, Birth and Death, Sorrow and Joy, Fortune, true and false, Love, pure and profane, Truth and Tradition, Time and Eternity, and God and Creation.

And now listen to his flute with all its varied strains, hearing which one’s sense of wonder–almost atrophied under the artificialities and ambitions of today,–may in all probability be deepened and dynamised, nay, divinised:

God: “The starting place, the endless ocean of love and beauty which is God.”

Soul: “Soul is love, strength, fortune, beauty, anticipation, eternity, wisdom.”

“In the silence of the night the soul visits the Beloved and enjoys the sweetness of His presence.”

“The eternal soul is never contented; it ever seeks exaltation.”

“In the depth of my soul there is a wordless song. It is a song composed by contemplation, published by silence, understood by love.”

Fortune: “Real fortune comes not from outside but begins in the Holy of Holies of Life.”
Woman: “Woman is your own reflection: whatever you are she is, wherever you live she will be. She is like religion if not interpreted by the ignorant, and like a moon if not veiled with clouds, and like a breeze if not poisoned with impurities.”

Beauty and love: “One hour devoted to the pursuit of Beauty and Love is worth a full century of glory. From that hour comes man’s Truth; in that hour the soul sees for herself the Natural Law; that hour was the inspiration of the Song of Solomon; that hour was the birth of the Sermon on the Mount; that hour was the hegira of Muhammad……This is life exalted for but an hour, but the hour is treasured by Eternity as a jewel.”

“I am the poet’s elation, and the artist’s revelation and the musician’s inspiration. I appear to a heart’s cry; I shun a demand.”

Man: “Man and I are sweethearts. But alas! between us has appeared a rival who brings us misery. Her name if substance, who has enticed him into the dungeon of selfishness…..But he will find me not except in God’s acts. He will find me only by coming to the house of simplicity which God has built at the brink of the stream of affection.”

“Speak not of peoples and laws and kingdoms, for the whole earth is my birthplace and all humans are my brothers.” “I was here from the moment of the beginning and here I am still. And I shall remain here until the end of the world....I roamed in the infinite sky and soared in the ideal world, and floated through the firmament. But, here I am, prisoner of measurement.”

Song of the Flower: “I am a star fallen from the blue tent upon the green carpet. But I look up high to see only the light and never look down to see my shadow. This is wisdom which man must learn.”

Song of the Rain: “I am the sigh of the sea, the laughter of the field, the tears of heaven. So with love-sighs from the deep sea of affection, laughter from the colourfull field of the spirit, tears from the endless heaven of memories.”

Death: “Talk not of my departure with sighs in your hearts; close your eyes and you will see me with you for evermore.”

Humanity: “I love the earth with all of myself because it is the haven of humanity, the manifest spirit of God….But the children are busy singing their clan’s anthem; they are busy sharpening the swords and cannot hear the cry of their mothers.”

A mystic, because of his vision of the whole, rebels against the segments of the Circle of Life in which mankind, in the main, delights to take shelter, despite the witness of the wise that a short-cut eventually turns out to be invariably the longest route. Therefore, his is a spirit rebellious and so he protests against the conventions of society, canons of the Church and codes of the Court, based as these are, more often than not, on an imperfect and, consequently, unjust view of the pith and marrow of man’s personality. The sacred institution of marriage, the kingly human quality of compassion and the divinity of truth have been desecrated. Matrimony has become a matter of money, the court is not a temple but a tomb of justice, as the Church is the graveyard of Godliness. And so the mystic sings of Love:

“Love descends upon our souls by the will of God.”
“True love makes union a paradise.”

He weeps at the callousness and cruelty of the Court:

“Oh, Bravery, this is your sword, buried now in the earth! Oh, Love, these are your flowers scorched by fire! Oh, Lord Jesus, this is thy Cross, submerged in the obscurity of the night.”

And lamenting that the Church has reduced Truth to a travesty, he proclaims:

“The true light is that which emanates from within man and reveals the secrets of the heart to the soul, making it happy and contented with life. Truth is like the stars; it does not appear except from behind the obscurity of the night. Truth is like all beautiful things in the world; it does not disclose its desirability except to those who first feel the influence of falsehood. Truth is a deep kindness that teaches us to be content in our everyday life and share with the people the same happiness.

“He who does not see the kingdom of heaven in this life will never see it in the coming life.”

Thus Kahlil Gibran, by sharing of his wisdom of the spirit, fulfils his destiny as a mystic-poet:

“Heaven fills my lamp with oil and I place it at my window to direct the stranger through the dark.”