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Khalil Gibran - The prophet, Beauty

Beauty

And a poet said, Speak to us of Beauty.

And he answered:

Where shall you seek beauty, and how shall you find her unless she herself be your way and your guide?

And how shall you speak of her except she be the weaver of your speech?

The aggrieved and the injured say, “Beauty is kind and gentle.

Like a young mother half-shy of her own glory she walks among us.”

And the passionate say, “Nay, beauty is a thing of might and dread.

Like the tempest she shakes the earth beneath us and the sky above us.”

The tired and the weary say, “Beauty is of soft whisperings. She speaks in our spirit. Her voice yields to our silences like a faint light that quivers in fear of the shadow.”

But the restless say, “We have heard her shouting among the mountains,

And with her cries came the sound of hoofs, and the beating of wings and the roaring of lions.”

At night the watchmen of the city say, “Beauty shall rise with the dawn from the east.”

And at noontide the toilers and the wayfarers say, “We have seen her leaning over the earth from the windows of the sunset.”

In winter say the snow-bound, “She shall come with the spring leaping upon the hills.”

And in the summer heat the reapers say, “We have seen her dancing with the autumn leaves, and we saw a drift of snow in her hair.” All these things have you said of beauty,

Yet in truth you spoke not of her but of needs unsatisfied,

And beauty is not a need but an ecstasy.

It is not a mouth thirsting nor an empty hand stretched forth,

But rather a heart enflamed and a soul enchanted.

It is not the image you would see nor the song you would hear,

But rather an image you see though you close your eyes and a song you hear though you shut your ears.

It is not the sap within the furrowed bark, nor a wing attached to a claw,

But rather a garden for ever in bloom and a flock of angels for ever in flight.

People of Orphalese, beauty is life when life unveils her holy face.

But you are life and you are the veil. Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror.

But you are eternity and you are the mirror.


Beauty Schönheit 美丽

And a poet said, Speak to us of Beauty. Et un poète dit : Parlez-nous de la Beauté.

And he answered: Et il répondit :

Where shall you seek beauty, and how shall you find her unless she herself be your way and your guide? Où chercherez-vous la beauté, et comment la trouverez-vous si elle n'est pas elle-même votre chemin et votre guide ?

And how shall you speak of her except she be the weaver of your speech? Et comment parlerez-vous d'elle si ce n'est qu'elle soit la tisseuse de votre discours ?

The aggrieved and the injured say, “Beauty is kind and gentle. Les personnes lésées et blessées disent : « La beauté est gentille et douce.

Like a young mother half-shy of her own glory she walks among us.” Comme une jeune mère à moitié timide de sa propre gloire, elle marche parmi nous.

And the passionate say, “Nay, beauty is a thing of might and dread. Et les passionnés disent : « Non, la beauté est une chose à la fois puissante et redoutable.

Like the tempest she shakes the earth beneath us and the sky above us.” Comme la tempête, elle secoue la terre sous nous et le ciel au-dessus de nous.

The tired and the weary say, “Beauty is of soft whisperings. Les fatigués et les las disent : « La beauté est faite de doux murmures. She speaks in our spirit. Elle parle dans notre esprit. Her voice yields to our silences like a faint light that quivers in fear of the shadow.” Sa voix cède à nos silences comme une faible lumière qui tremble dans la peur de l'ombre.

But the restless say, “We have heard her shouting among the mountains, Mais les agités disent : « Nous l'avons entendue crier parmi les montagnes,

And with her cries came the sound of hoofs, and the beating of wings and the roaring of lions.”

At night the watchmen of the city say, “Beauty shall rise with the dawn from the east.”

And at noontide the toilers and the wayfarers say, “We have seen her leaning over the earth from the windows of the sunset.”

In winter say the snow-bound, “She shall come with the spring leaping upon the hills.”

And in the summer heat the reapers say, “We have seen her dancing with the autumn leaves, and we saw a drift of snow in her hair.” All these things have you said of beauty,

Yet in truth you spoke not of her but of needs unsatisfied,

And beauty is not a need but an ecstasy.

It is not a mouth thirsting nor an empty hand stretched forth,

But rather a heart enflamed and a soul enchanted.

It is not the image you would see nor the song you would hear,

But rather an image you see though you close your eyes and a song you hear though you shut your ears.

It is not the sap within the furrowed bark, nor a wing attached to a claw,

But rather a garden for ever in bloom and a flock of angels for ever in flight.

People of Orphalese, beauty is life when life unveils her holy face.

But you are life and you are the veil. Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror.

But you are eternity and you are the mirror.