19 July 2008

Inspiration from Gibran

I'm not a poetry enthusiast, nor can I tell the difference between good poetry and bad poetry. And, honestly, when people post their own poetry on their blogs I sometimes don't even have the patience to read it. There are only two poets I truly love: Emily Dickinson and Kahlil Gibran. Basically, I may not know much about poetry but I know what I like. The following is The Life of Love by Gibran.


Come, my beloved; let us walk amidst the knolls,
For the snow is water, and Life is alive from its
Slumber and is roaming the hills and valleys.
Let us follow the footprints of Spring into the
Distant fields, and mount the hilltops to draw
Inspiration high above the cool green plains.
Dawn of Spring has unfolded her winter-kept garment
And placed it on the peach and citrus trees; and
They appear as brides in the ceremonial custom of
the Night of Kedre.
The sprigs of grapevine embrace each other like
Sweethearts, and the brooks burst out in dance
Between the rocks, repeating the song of joy;
And the flowers bud suddenly from the heart of
Nature, like foam from the rich heart of the sea.
Come, my beloved; let us drink the last of Winter's
Tears from the cupped lilies, and soothe our spirits
With the shower of notes from the birds, and wander
In exhilaration through the intoxicating breeze.
Let us sit by that rock, where violets hide; let us
Pursue their exchange of the sweetness of kisses.


Let us go into the fields, my beloved, for the
Time of harvest approaches, and the sun's eyes
Are ripening the grain.
Let us tend the fruit of the earth, as the
Spirit nourishes the grains of Joy from the
Seeds of Love, sowed deep in our hearts.
Let us fill our bins with the products of
Nature, as life fills so abundantly the
Domain of our hearts with her endless bounty.
Let us make the flowers our bed, and the
Sky our blanket, and rest our heads together
Upon pillows of soft hay.
Let us relax after the day's toil, and listen
To the provoking murmur of the brook.


Let us go and gather grapes in the vineyard
For the winepress, and keep the wine in old
Vases, as the spirit keeps Knowledge of the
Ages in eternal vessels.
Let us return to our dwelling, for the wind has
Caused the yellow leaves to fall and shroud the
Withering flowers that whisper elegy to Summer.
Come home, my eternal sweetheart, for the birds
Have made pilgrimage to warmth and lest the chilled
Prairies suffering pangs of solitude. The jasmine
And myrtle have no more tears.
Let us retreat, for the tired brook has
Ceased its song; and the bubblesome springs
Are drained of their copious weeping; and
Their cautious old hills have stored away
Their colorful garments.
Come, my beloved; Nature is justly weary
And is bidding her enthusiasm farewell
With quiet and contented melody.


Come close to me, oh companion of my full life;
Come close to me and let not Winter's touch
Enter between us. Sit by me before the hearth,
For fire is the only fruit of Winter.
Speak to me of the glory of your heart, for
That is greater than the shrieking elements
Beyond our door.
Bind the door and seal the transoms, for the
Angry countenance of the heaven depresses my
Spirit, and the face of our snow-laden fields
Makes my soul cry.
Feed the lamp with oil and let it not dim, and
Place it by you, so I can read with tears what
Your life with me has written upon your face.
Bring Autumn's wine. Let us drink and sing the
Song of remembrance to Spring's carefree sowing,
And Summer's watchful tending, and Autumn's
Reward in harvest.
Come close to me, oh beloved of my soul; the
Fire is cooling and fleeing under the ashes.
Embrace me, for I fear loneliness; the lamp is
Dim, and the wine which we pressed is closing
Our eyes. Let us look upon each other before
They are shut.
Find me with your arms and embrace me; let
Slumber then embrace our souls as one.
Kiss me, my beloved, for Winter has stolen
All but our moving lips.
You are close by me, My Forever.
How deep and wide will be the ocean of Slumber,
And how recent was the dawn!


Yvonne said...

Yay! I love Kahlil Gibran.

Livia Indica said...

Me too! His works have such an ethereal feel to them that I just love.

goatman said...

I struggle with poetry. I'm trying to understand what it's for and have an inkling that it attempts to tell many things with the fewest words and kinda has to be looked at from the side sometimes. Which is why long poetry seems to be more prose and taxes my attention as well.
Having been trained in the more logical and predictable sciences, I now yearn for the free thought, the surprise, the lure of history, and yes, trying to write some poetry.
It,s a struggle and I have only two poems to my credit, but I'm working on one now which I will soon post.

I like your blog, especially the sunrise beauty of the clouds and light.

Livia Indica said...

I have trouble with poetry too. I never could get my head fully wrapped around it. But college literature classes helped with that and now I have a healthier appreciation for it than I once did. I'm glad you like my blog; the header photo is an image I took from my back yard. Good luck with your poetic endeavors.

Griffin said...

Have a look at Shakespeare's Sonnets and Ogden Nash... and Don Marquis' 'Archy and Mehitabel'. Also Emily Bronte's poems.

I suggest you and goatman too, go to poetry without expectations. Listen to the rhythms of the words, their music and let it do its stuff.

Oh yes, and Tennyson's 'Lady of Shalott' if you're feeling Pre-Raphaelite! Also, translations of French poems by Arthur Rimbaud, Baudelaire and Stephane Mallarme. And Dorothy Parker... ahem. Ok, I'll stop now!

I'm a book addict and I love poetry. Good poetry has emotion in it, powerful words that echo in the depths of you. Ted Hughes can do that. Emily Bronte's 'High Waving Heather' can and Shakespeare's sonnet, 'When out of favour with the world and men's eyes...' also does that.

And now I really am stopping... honest.

Livia Indica said...

Oh yes, Shakespeare, I've been reading him since college. And my mother is such a huge fan of the Bronte sisters that I've read almost all of their works. I guess poetry has just been kind of hit or miss with me. Thanks for the recommendations.