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The Life of Love XVI

Written by: Kahlil Gibran | Biography
 | Quotes (237) |
 Spring


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. 


Summer


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. 


Autumn


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. 


Winter


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!



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