The Khalil Gibran Megapack. Khalil Gibran

The Khalil Gibran Megapack - Khalil Gibran


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Buffalo Bill Megapack

      The Cowboy Megapack

      The Zane Grey Megapack

      The Western Megapack

      The Second Western Megapack

      The Wizard of Oz Megapack

      YOUNG ADULT

      The Boys’ Adventure Megapack

      The Dan Carter, Cub Scout Megapack

      The Doll Story Megapack

      The G.A. Henty Megapack

      The Girl Detectives Megapack

      The Penny Parker Megapack

      The Pinocchio Megapack

      The Rover Boys Megapack

      The Tom Corbett, Space Cadet Megapack

      The Tom Swift Megapack

      AUTHOR MEGAPACKS

      The Achmed Abdullah Megapack

      The Edward Bellamy Megapack

      The B.M. Bower Megapack

      The E.F. Benson Megapack

      The Second E.F. Benson Megapack

      The Algernon Blackwood Megapack

      The Second Algernon Blackwood Megapack

      The Max Brand Megapack

      The First Reginald Bretnor Megapack

      The Wilkie Collins Megapack

      The Ray Cummings Megapack

      The Guy de Maupassant Megapack

      The Philip K. Dick Megapack

      The Erckmann-Chatrian Megapack

      The Jacques Futrelle Megapack

      The Randall Garrett Megapack

      The Second Randall Garrett Megapack

      The Anna Katharine Green Megapack

      The Zane Grey Megapack

      The Edmond Hamilton Megapack

      The Dashiell Hammett Megapack

      The M.R. James Megapack

      The Selma Lagerlof Megapack

      The Murray Leinster Megapack

      The Second Murray Leinster Megapack

      The George Barr McCutcheon Megapack

      The Talbot Mundy Megapack

      The Andre Norton Megapack

      The H. Beam Piper Megapack

      The Mack Reynolds Megapack

      The Rafael Sabatini Megapack

      The Saki Megapack

      The Robert Sheckley Megapack

      OTHER COLLECTIONS YOU MAY ENJOY

      The Great Book of Wonder, by Lord Dunsany (it should have been called “The Lord Dunsany Megapack”)

      The Wildside Book of Fantasy

      The Wildside Book of Science Fiction

      Yondering: The First Borgo Press Book of Science Fiction Stories

      To the Stars—And Beyond! The Second Borgo Press Book of Science Fiction Stories

      Once Upon a Future: The Third Borgo Press Book of Science Fiction Stories

      Whodunit?—The First Borgo Press Book of Crime and Mystery Stories

      More Whodunits—The Second Borgo Press Book of Crime and Mystery Stories

      THE MADMAN: HIS PARABLES AND POEMS

      INTRODUCTION

      You ask me how I became a madman. It happened thus: One day, long before many gods were born, I woke from a deep sleep and found all my masks were stolen,—the seven masks I have fashioned and worn in seven lives,—I ran maskless through the crowded streets shouting, “Thieves, thieves, the cursed thieves.”

      Men and women laughed at me and some ran to their houses in fear of me.

      And when I reached the market place, a youth standing on a house-top cried, “He is a madman.” I looked up to behold him; the sun kissed my own naked face for the first time. For the first time the sun kissed my own naked face and my soul was inflamed with love for the sun, and I wanted my masks no more. And as if in a trance I cried, “Blessed, blessed are the thieves who stole my masks.”

      Thus I became a madman.

      And I have found both freedom of loneliness and the safety from being understood, for those who understand us enslave something in us.

      But let me not be too proud of my safety. Even a Thief in a jail is safe from another thief.

      GOD

      In the ancient days, when the first quiver of speech came to my lips, I ascended the holy mountain and spoke unto God, saying, “Master, I am thy slave. Thy hidden will is my law and I shall obey thee for ever more.”

      But God made no answer, and like a mighty tempest passed away.

      And after a thousand years I ascended the holy mountain and again spoke unto God, saying, “Creator, I am thy creation. Out of clay hast thou fashioned me and to thee I owe mine all.”

      And God made no answer, but like a thousand swift wings passed away.

      And after a thousand years I climbed the holy mountain and spoke unto God again, saying, “Father, I am thy son. In pity and love thou hast given me birth, and through love and worship I shall inherit thy kingdom.”

      And God made no answer, and like the mist that veils the distant hills he passed away.

      And after a thousand years I climbed the sacred mountain and again spoke unto God, saying, “My God, my aim and my fulfillment; I am thy yesterday and thou are my tomorrow. I am thy root in the earth and thou art my flower in the sky, and together we grow before the face of the sun.”

      Then God leaned over me, and in my ears whispered words of sweetness, and even as the sea that enfoldeth a brook that runneth down to her, he enfolded me.

      And when I descended to the valleys and the plains God was there also.

      MY FRIEND

      My friend, I am not what I seem. Seeming is but a garment I wear—a care-woven garment that protects me from thy questionings and thee from my negligence.

      The “I” in me, my friend, dwells in the house of silence, and therein it shall remain for ever more, unperceived, unapproachable.

      I would not have thee believe in what I say nor trust in what I do—for my words are naught but thy own thoughts in sound and my deeds thy own hopes in action.

      When thou sayest, “The wind bloweth eastward,” I say, “Aye it doth blow eastward“; for I would not have thee know that my mind doth not dwell upon the wind but upon the sea.

      Thou canst not understand my seafaring thoughts, nor would I have thee understand. I would be at sea alone.

      When it is day with thee, my friend, it is night with me; yet even then I speak of the noontide that dances upon the hills and of the purple shadow that steals its way across the valley; for thou canst not hear the songs of my darkness nor see my wings beating against the stars—and I fain would not have thee hear or see. I would be with night alone.

      When thou ascendest to thy Heaven I descend to my Hell—even then thou callest to me across the unbridgeable gulf, “My companion, my comrade,” and I call back to thee, “My comrade, my companion“—for I would not have thee see my Hell. The flame would burn thy eyesight and the smoke would crowd thy nostrils. And I love my Hell too well to have thee visit it. I would be in Hell alone.


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