Treasured Writings of Kahlil Gibran (72 page)

Boston, 1923

Beloved Brother Meesha:

Forgive my long silence and help me obtain forgiveness from your brethren and mine. Early this summer the doctor told me to abstain from all kinds of writing, and I submitted to him after a great struggle between me and my will and the will of my sister and some friends. The result turned out to be good, for I am now closer to being in normal health than at any time during the last two years. My being away from the city, living a simple, quiet, and orderly life near the sea and the woods, has stilled the palpitations of my heart and altered my trembling hand to one that writes these lines.

I shall return to New York in two or three weeks and present myself to my brethren. If they take me into their midst, I shall know how affectionate they are. A beggar should not be demanding, and a criminal should make no conditions.

This is the first letter I have written to you for three months!

A thousand salaams to all, and may God protect you and keep you for your brother

G
IBRAN

TO MIKHAIL NAIMY

Boston, 1923

I congratulate you and offer my felicitations upon
The Cribble.
Undoubtedly it is the first living breeze of that divine tempest which shall weed out all the dead wood in our literary forests. I have read the book thoroughly, from Aleph to Yey,
*
and I was reassured of a truth that I had long believed and which I once expressed to you. It is this: had you not been a poet and writer, you would not have reached your goal of critic, and you would not have succeeded in lifting the curtain to reveal the truth about poetry, poets, writing and writers. I say, Meesha, that had you not undertaken the task of poetry in your own heart, you could not have discovered the poetic experiences of others. And had you not taken a long walk in the garden of poetry, you would not have rebelled against those who walk only the dark and narrow paths of meters and rhymes. Sainte-Beuve, Ruskin and Walter Pater were artists before and after they criticised the artistic works of others and each one of them criticised through the help of the light of his own inner feelings, and not through the help of acquired taste. The spiritual light that comes from within is the source of everything beautiful and noble. This light turns criticism into a fine and magnificent art. Without this light, criticism is compulsive and boring and lacking the positive note of decisive persuasion.

Yes, Meesha, you are a poet and a thinker before everything else, and your unique power of criticism is the outcome of your keen poetic thinking and feeling. Don't give the example of the “egg”
*
—I shall never accept it—for it smacks of empty controversy rather than demonstrable logic.

G
IBRAN

*
Aleph to Yey means A to Z.

*
Gibran refers here to the old Arabic inquiry as to which came first—the egg or the hen.

In 1924, the Syrians apparently raised funds and built an orphanage, which Gibran calls “the noblest Syrian institution in the United States.” He had planned to attend the dedication of the orphanage, but when the time came, he was ill in Boston with a stomach ailment.

TO MIKHAIL NAIMY

Boston,

Sept. 7, 1924

Dear Mikhail:

I have been locked in my room for several days and I have just left the bed to write you this letter. You know that I was indisposed when I left New York, and I have been fighting the poisoning in my stomach ever since. Had it not been for this, I would not have hesitated to go to the orphanage on the day of its dedication.

You realize, Meesha, that no matter how important and pressing my work is, it cannot keep me from absenting myself two or three days, especially when I am to take part in the dedication of the noblest Syrian institution in the United States. I beg you to offer my excuse to the Archbishop and to explain to him the real reason for my failure to come.

G
IBRAN

Abdul-Masseh, owner and editor of
As-Sayeh,
had called on Gibran to make a special design for the annual special issue which came out in the form of a magazine rather than a paper and contained articles, poems, stories and pictures of the members of Arrabitah and other Arab writers.

TO MIKHAIL NAIMY

Boston, 1925

Dear Meesha:

Peace be unto your soul. As per your request, I have just mailed you the design for the cover of the special issue of
As-Sayeh.
The requests of princes are the princes of requests! I beg you to urge Abdul-Masseeh to keep the design for me after the engraver is finished with it.

I have been wondering if you have found solitude and peace in the hermitage! I was afraid that you might find it cold; and I should have told you of the electric apparatus which can warm one of its corners. Of course, warm hearts do not need outside heat.

I shall return to New York in a week, more or less, and we shall have long talks of things beneath the earth and above the clouds. May God keep you, Meesha, a beloved brother to

G
IBRAN

P.S. I shall return to New York in ten days,
inshallah,
and we shall have a long discussion and set the drawings for Rasheed's book and share many beautiful dreams.

Edmond Wehby translated “The Crucified” from the Arabic to French and published it in
La Syrie,
a daily French newspaper in Beirut. A copy of the translation was sent by the translator to the author accompanied by a nice letter to which Gibran wrote the following answer:

TO EDMOND WEHBY

New York,

March 12, 1925

Dear Brother:

Peace be unto you. I was very happy to receive your very kind letter. It revealed to me the abundance of your learning and the beauty of your spirit and your zeal for the arts and artists. I wish I were worthy of the praises and honor which you have accorded me in your missive, and I hope that I will be able to live up to the beautiful things you have said about me.

I have read with admiration your French translation of “The Crucified”—however, I was sorry to learn about the spiritual condition of Syrian and Lebanese youth today and their tendency towards learning foreign languages and neglecting their own tongue, which prompted your zeal to translate a piece especially written for that young generation in the language of their forefathers.