The Beauty of Death
by Kahlil Gibran
Part One - The Calling
Let me sleep, for my soul is intoxicated
with love and
Let me rest, for my spirit has had its
bounty of days and nights;
Light the candles and burn the incense
around my bed, and
Scatter leaves of jasmine and roses over
my body;
Embalm my hair with frankincense and sprinkle
my feet with perfume,
And read what the hand of Death has written
on my forehead.
Let me rest in the arms of Slumber, for
my open eyes are tired;
Let the silver-stringed lyre quiver and
soothe my spirit;
Weave from the harp and lute a veil around
my withering heart.
Sing of the past as you behold the dawn
of hope in my eyes, for
It's magic meaning is a soft bed upon
which my heart rests.
Dry your tears, my friends, and raise
your heads as the flowers
Raise their crowns to greet the dawn.
Look at the bride of Death standing like
a column of light
Between my bed and the infinite;
Hold your breath and listen with me to
the beckoning rustle of
Her white wings.
Come close and bid me farewell; touch
my eyes with smiling lips.
Let the children grasp my hands with soft
and rosy fingers;
Let the ages place their veined hands
upon my head and bless me;
Let the virgins come close and see the
shadow of God in my eyes,
And hear the echo of His will racing with
my breath. |