Gibran - Sand and foam: a book of aphorisms

THIS IS A BORZOI BOOK PUBLISHED BY ALFRED A. KNOPF Copyright 1926 by Kahlil Gibran Copyright renewed 1954 by Administrators C.T.A. of Kahlil Gibran Estate and Mary G. Gibran All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Alfred A. www.aaknopf.com Knopf, Borzoi Books, and the colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc. eISBN: 978-0-307-95776-4 v3.1 I am forever walking upon these shores, Betwixt the sand and the foam. eISBN: 978-0-307-95776-4 v3.1 I am forever walking upon these shores, Betwixt the sand and the foam.

The high tide will erase my foot-prints, And the wind will blow away the foam. But the sea and the shore will remain Forever. Once I filled my hand with mist. Then I opened it and lo, the mist was a worm. And I closed and opened my hand again, and behold there was a bird. And again I closed and opened my hand, and in its hollow stood a man with a sad face, turned upward.

And again I closed my hand, and when I opened it there was naught but mist. But I heard a song of exceeding sweetness. It was but yesterday I thought myself a fragment quivering without rhythm in the sphere of life. Now I know that I am the sphere, and all life in rhythmic fragments moves within me. They say to me in their awakening, You and the world you live in are but a grain of sand upon the infinite shore of an infinite sea. Only once have I been made mute. Only once have I been made mute.

It was when a man asked me, Who are you? The first thought of God was an angel. The first word of God was a man. We were fluttering, wandering, longing creatures a thousand thousand years before the sea and the wind in the forest gave us words. Now how can we express the ancient of days in us with only the sounds of our yesterdays? The Sphinx spoke only once, and the Sphinx said, A grain of sand is a desert, and a desert is a grain of sand; and now let us all be silent again. I heard the Sphinx, but I did not understand. Once I saw the face of a woman, and I beheld all her children not yet born.

And a woman looked upon my face and she knew all my forefathers, dead before she was born. Now would I fulfil myself. But how shall I unless I become a planet with intelligent lives dwelling upon it? Is not this every mans goal? A pearl is a temple built by pain around a grain of sand. What longing built our bodies and around what grains? When God threw me, a pebble, into this wondrous lake I disturbed its surface with countless circles. But when I reached the depths I became very still. I had a second birth when my soul and my body loved one another and were married. Once I knew a man whose ears were exceedingly keen, but he was dumb. Once I knew a man whose ears were exceedingly keen, but he was dumb.

He had lost his tongue in a battle. I know now what battles that man fought before the great silence came. I am glad he is dead. The world is not large enough for two of us. Long did I lie in the dust of Egypt, silent and unaware of the seasons. Then the sun gave me birth, and I rose and walked upon the banks of the Nile, Singing with the days and dreaming with the nights.

And now the sun treads upon me with a thousand feet that I may lie again in the dust of Egypt. But behold a marvel and a riddle! The very sun that gathered me cannot scatter me. Still erect am I, and sure of foot do I walk upon the banks of the Nile. Remembrance is a form of meeting.