The Broken Wings

Tell me, my beloved, what will you be after having been magic ray to my eyes, sweet song to my ears, and wings to my soul? What will you be?"

Learning these words, my heart melted, and I answered her, " I will be as you want me to be, my beloved."

Then she said, " I want you to love me as a poet loves his sorrowful thoughts. I want you to remember me as a traveller remembers a calm pool in which his image was reflected as he drank its water. I want you to remember me as a mother remember her child that died before it saw the light, and I want you to remember me as a merciful king remembers a prisoner who died before his pardon reached him. I want you to be my companion, and I want you to visit my father and console him in his solitude because I shall be leaving him soon and shall be a stranger to him.

I answered her, saying, " I will do all you have said and will make my soul an envelope for your soul, and my heart a residence for your beauty and my breast a grave for your sorrows. I shall love you , Selma, as the prairies love the spring, and I shall live in you in the life of a flower under the sun's rays. I shall sing your name as the valley sings the echo of the bells of the village churches; I shall listen to the language of your soul as the shore listens to the story of the waves. I shall remember you as a stranger remembers his beloved country, and as a hungry man remembers a banquet, and as a dethroned king remembers the days of his glory, and as a prisoner remembers the hours of ease and freedom. I shall remember you as a sower remembers the bundles of wheat on his threshing flour, and as a shepherd remembers the green prairies the sweet brooks."

قل لي يا حبيبي، قل لي ماذا تكون لي بعد ان كنت نورا لعيني و نغمة لأذني و جناحا لروحي، ماذا تكون؟

فأجبتها و حبات قلبي تذوب في عيني: سأكون لك يا سلمى مثلما تريدينني ان أكون.

فقالت : أريدك ان تحبني ، أريدك ان تحبني إلى نهاية أيامي أريدك ان تحبن مثلما يحب الشاعر أفكاره المحزنة، أريدك ان تذكرني مثلما يذكر المسافر حوض ماء هادئ رأى فيه خيال وجهه قبل ان يشرب من ماءه، و أريدك ان تذكرني مثلما تذكر الأم جنينا مات في احشائها قبل ان يرى النور، و أريدك ان تفكر بي مثلما يفكر الملك الرؤوف بسجين مات قبل ان يبلغه عفوه، أريدك ان تكون لي اخا و صديقا و رفيقا، أريدك ان تزور والدي في وحدته و تغديه في انفراده ، لأنني عما قريب سأتركه و أصير غريبة عنه.

فأجابها: سأفعل كل ذالك يا سلمى، سوف اجعل روحي غلافا لروحك، و قلبي بيتا لجمالك، و صدري قبرا لأحزانك، سوف احبك يا سلمى محبة حقول للربيع سوف احيى بك حياة الأزهار بحرارة الشمس، سوف أترنم باسمك مثلما يترنم الوادي بصدى رنين الأجراس المتمايلة فوق كنائس القرى، سوف اصغي لأحاديث نفسك مثلما تصغي الشواطئ لحكاية الامواج، سأذكرك يا سلمى مثلما يذكر الغريب المستوحش وطنه المحبوب، و الفقير الجائع مائدة الطعام الشهية، و الملك المخلوع أيام عزه و مجده، والأسير الكئيب ساعات الحرية والطمأنينة. سوف أفكر بك مثلما يفكر الزارع بأعمار السنابل و غلة البيادر، و الراعي الصالح بالمروج الخضراء و المناهل العذبة.،

A woman is to a nation as light is to a lamp. Will not the light be dim if the oil in the lamp is low?

It is wrong to think that love comes from long companionship and persevering courtship. Love is the offspring of spiritual affinity and unless that affinity is created in a moment, it will not be created in years or even generations.

Selma was deeply thoughtful rather than talkative, and her silence was a kind of music that carried one to a world of dreams and made him listen to the throbbing of his heart, and see the ghosts of his thoughts and feelings standing before him, looking him in the eyes.

Only our spirits can understand beauty, or live and grow with it. It puzzles our minds; we are unable to describe it in words; it is a sensation that our eyes cannot see, derived from both the one who observes and the one who is looked upon. Real beauty is a ray which emanates from the holy of holies of the spirit, and illuminates the body, as life comes from the depths of the earth and gives colour and scent to a flower.

As I left the house I told my friend that I was going to visit Farris Effandi in a few days for the purpose of fulfilling my promise and for the sake of the friendship which had joined him and my father. He stared at me for a moment, and I noticed a change in his expression as if my few simple words had revealed to him a new idea. Then he looked straight through my eyes in a strange manner, a look of love, mercy, and fear — the look of a prophet who foresees what no one else can divine. Then his lips trembled a little, but he said nothing when I started towards the door. That strange look followed me, the meaning of which I could not understand until I grew up in the world of experience, where hearts understand each other intuitively and where spirits are mature with knowledge.

Oh, friends of my youth who are scattered in the city of Beirut, when you pass by the cemetery near the pine forest, enter it silently and walk slowly so the tramping of your feet will not disturb the slumber of the dead, and stop humbly by Selma's tomb and greet the earth that encloses her corpse and mention my name with deep sigh and say to yourself, "here, all the hopes of Gibran, who is living as prisoner of love beyond the seas, were buried. On this spot he lost his happiness, drained his tears, and forgot his smile."

My life was a coma, empty like that of Adam's in Paradise, when I saw Selma standing before me like a column of light. She was the Eve of my heart who filled it with secrets and wonders and made me understand the meaning of life.