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The Madman: His Parables and Poems

The Greater Sea

Project Gutenberg EPUB edition Gibran, Kahlil
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My soul and I went to the great sea to bathe. And when we reached the shore, we went about looking for a hidden and lonely place.
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But as we walked, we saw a man sitting on a grey rock taking pinches of salt from a bag and throwing them into the sea.
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“This is the pessimist,” said my soul, “Let us leave this place. We cannot bathe here.”
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We walked on until we reached an inlet. There we saw, standing on a white rock, a man holding a bejeweled box, from which he took sugar and threw it into the sea.
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“And this is the optimist,” said my soul, “And he too must not see our naked bodies."
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Further on we walked. And on a beach we saw a man picking up dead fish and tenderly putting them back into the water.
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“And we cannot bathe before him,” said my soul. “He is the humane philanthropist.”
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Then we came where we saw a man tracing his shadow on the sand. Great waves came and erased it. But he went on tracing it again and again.
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“He is the mystic,” said my soul, “Let us leave him.”
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And we walked on, till in a quiet cover we saw a man scooping up the foam and putting it into an alabaster bowl.
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“He is the idealist,” said my soul, “Surely he must not see our nudity.”
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And on we walked. Suddenly we heard a voice crying, “This is the sea. This is the deep sea. This is the vast and mighty sea.” And when we reached the voice it was a man whose back was turned to the sea, and at his ear he held a shell, listening to its murmur.
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And my soul said, “Let us pass on. He is the realist, who turns his back on the whole he cannot grasp, and busies himself with a fragment.”
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So we passed on. And in a weedy place among the rocks was a man with his head buried in the sand. And I said to my soul, “We can bath here, for he cannot see us.”
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“Nay,” said my soul, “For he is the most deadly of them all. He is the puritan.”
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Then a great sadness came over the face of my soul, and into her voice.
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“Let us go hence,” she said, “For there is no lonely, hidden place where we can bathe. I would not have this wind lift my golden hair, or bare my white bosom in this air, or let the light disclose my sacred nakedness.”
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Then we left that sea to seek the Greater Sea.

Source attribution

The Madman: His Parables and Poems, Project Gutenberg eBook #5616

Faces Crucified

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