The Madman - Kahlil Gibran (best feel good books .txt) 📗

class="calibre1">Second Self: Yours is a better lot than mine, brother, for it is

given to me to be this madman’s joyous self. I laugh his laughter

and sing his happy hours, and with thrice winged feet I dance

his brighter thoughts. It is I that would rebel against my weary

existence.

 

Third Self: And what of me, the love-ridden self, the flaming brand

of wild passion and fantastic desires? It is I the love-sick self

who would rebel against this madman.

 

Fourth Self: I, amongst you all, am the most miserable, for naught

was given me but odious hatred and destructive loathing. It is

I, the tempest-like self, the one born in the black caves of Hell,

who would protest against serving this madman.

 

Fifth Self: Nay, it is I, the thinking self, the fanciful self,

the self of hunger and thirst, the one doomed to wander without

rest in search of unknown things and things not yet created; it is

I, not you, who would rebel.

 

Sixth Self: And I, the working self, the pitiful labourer, who,

with patient hands, and longing eyes, fashion the days into images

and give the formless elements new and eternal forms—it is I, the

solitary one, who would rebel against this restless madman.

 

Seventh Self: How strange that you all would rebel against this

man, because each and every one of you has a preordained fate to

fulfill. Ah! could I but be like one of you, a self with a determined

lot! But I have none, I am the do-nothing self, the one who sits

in the dumb, empty nowhere and nowhen, while you are busy recreating

life. Is it you or I, neighbours, who should rebel?

 

When the seventh self thus spake the other six selves looked with

pity upon him but said nothing more; and as the night grew deeper

one after the other went to sleep enfolded with a new and happy

submission.

 

But the seventh self remained watching and gazing at nothingness,

which is behind all things.

 

War

 

One night a feat was held in the palace, and there came a man and

prostrated himself before the prince, and all the feasters looked

upon him; and they saw that one of his eyes was out and that

the empty socket bled. And the prince inquired of him, “What has

befallen you?” And the man replied, “O prince, I am by profession

a thief, and this night, because there was no moon, I went to rob

the money-changer’s shop, and as I climbed in through the window

I made a mistake and entered the weaver’s shop, and in the dark I

ran into the weaver’s loom and my eye was plucked out. And now,

O prince, I ask for justice upon the weaver.”

 

Then the prince sent for the weaver and he came, and it was decreed

that one of his eyes should be plucked out.

 

“O prince,” said the weaver, “the decree is just. It is right that

one of my eyes be taken. And yet, alas! both are necessary to me

in order that I may see the two sides of the cloth that I weave.

But I have a neighbour, a cobbler, who has also two eyes, and in

his trade both eyes are not necessary.”

 

Then the prince sent for the cobbler. And he came. And they took

out one of the cobbler’s two eyes.

 

And justice was satisfied.

 

The Fox

 

A fox looked at his shadow at sunrise and said, “I will have

a camel for lunch today.” And all morning he went about looking

for camels. But at noon he saw his shadow again—and he said, “A

mouse will do.”

 

The Wise King

 

Once there ruled in the distant city of Wirani a king who was both

mighty and wise. And he was feared for his might and loved for

his wisdom.

 

Now, in the heart of that city was a well, whose water was cool and

crystalline, from which all the inhabitants drank, even the king

and his courtiers; for there was no other well.

 

One night when all were asleep, a witch entered the city, and poured

seven drops of strange liquid into the well, and said, “From this

hour he who drinks this water shall become mad.”

 

Next morning all the inhabitants, save the king and his lord

chamberlain, drank from the well and became mad, even as the witch

had foretold.

 

And during that day the people in the narrow streets and in the

market places did naught but whisper to one another, “The king is

mad. Our king and his lord chamberlain have lost their reason.

Surely we cannot be ruled by a mad king. We must dethrone him.”

 

That evening the king ordered a golden goblet to be filled from the

well. And when it was brought to him he drank deeply, and gave it

to his lord chamberlain to drink.

 

And there was great rejoicing in that distant city of Wirani,

because its king and its lord chamberlain had regained their reason.

 

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.”

 

The New Pleasure

 

Last night I invented a new pleasure, and as I was giving it the

first trial an angel and a devil came rushing toward my house. They

met at my door and fought with each other over my newly created

pleasure; the one crying, “It is a sin!”—the other, “It is a

virtue!”

 

The Other Language

 

Three days after I was born, as I lay in my silken cradle, gazing

with astonished dismay on the new world round about me, my mother

spoke to the wet-nurse, saying, “How does my child?”

 

And the wet-nurse answered, “He does well, Madame, I have fed him

three times; and never before have I seen a babe so young yet so

gay.”

 

And I was indignant; and I cried, “It is not true, mother; for

my bed is hard, and the milk I have sucked is bitter to my mouth,

and the odour of the breast is foul in my nostrils, and I am most

miserable.”

 

But my mother did not understand, nor did the nurse; for the language

I spoke was that of the world from which I came.

 

And on the twenty-first day of my life, as I was being christened,

the priest said to my mother, “You should indeed by happy, Madame,

that your son was born a Christian.”

 

And I was surprised,—and I said to the priest, “Then your mother

in Heaven should be unhappy, for you were not born a Christian.”

 

But the priest too did not understand my language.

 

And after seven moons, one day a soothsayer looked at me, and he

said to my mother, “Your son will be a statesman and a great leader

of men.”

 

But I cried out,—“That is a false prophet; for I shall be a

musician, and naught but a musician shall I be.”

 

But even at that age my language was not understood—and great was

my astonishment.

 

And after three and thirty years, during which my mother, and the

nurse, and the priest have all died, (the shadow of God be upon

their spirits) the soothsayer still lives. And yesterday I met him

near the gates of the temple; and while we were talking together

he said, “I have always known you would become a great musician.

Even in your infancy I prophesied and foretold your future.”

 

And I believed him—for now I too have forgotten the language of

that other world.

 

The Pomegranate

 

Once when I was living in the heart of a pomegranate, I heard a seed

saying, “Someday I shall become a tree, and the wind will sing in

my branches, and the sun will dance on my leaves, and I shall be

strong and beautiful through all the seasons.”

 

Then another seed spoke and said, “When I was as young as you, I

too held such views; but now that I can weigh and measure things,

I see that my hopes were vain.”

 

And a third seed spoke also, “I see in us nothing that promises so

great a future.”

 

And a fourth said, “But what a mockery our life would be, without

a greater future!”

 

Said a fifth, “Why dispute what we shall be, when we know not even

what we are.”

 

But a sixth replied, “Whatever we are, that we shall continue to

be.”

 

And a seventh said, “I have such a clear idea how everything will

be, but I cannot put it into words.”

 

Then an eight spoke—and a ninth—and a tenth—and then many—until

all were speaking, and I could distinguish nothing for the many

voices.

 

And so I moved that very day into the heart of a quince, where the

seeds are few and almost silent.

 

The Two Cages

 

In my father’s garden there are two cages. In one is a lion, which

my father’s slaves brought from the desert of Ninavah; in the other

is a songless sparrow.

 

Every day at dawn the sparrow calls to the lion, “Good morrow to

thee, brother prisoner.”

 

The Three Ants

 

Three ants met on the nose of a man who was asleep in the sun. And

after they had saluted one another, each according to the custom

of his tribe, they stood there conversing.

 

The first ant said, “These hills and plains are the most barren I

have known. I have searched all day for a grain of some sort, and

there is none to be found.”

 

Said the second ant, “I too have found nothing, though I have

visited every nook and glade. This is, I believe, what my people

call the soft, moving land where nothing grows.”

 

Then the third ant raised his head and said, “My friends, we are

standing now on the nose of the Supreme Ant, the mighty and infinite

Ant, whose body is so great that we cannot see it, whose shadow

is so vast that we cannot trace it, whose voice is so loud that we

cannot hear it; and He is omnipresent.”

 

When the third ant spoke thus the other ants looked at each other

and laughed.

 

At that moment the man moved and in his sleep raised his hand and

scratched his nose, and the three ants were crushed.

 

The Grave-Digger

 

Once, as I was burying one of my dead selves, the grave-digger