Gibran Stories Omnibus

me they were like a
passing cloud that covered the face of the moon and makes it more
beautiful. A look which reveals inward stress adds more beauty to the
face, no matter how much tragedy and pain it bespeaks; but the face
which, in silence, does not announce hidden mysteries is not beautiful,
regardless of the symmetry of its features. The cup does not entice our
lips unless the wine's colour is seen through the transparent crystal.
      Selma, on that evening, was like a cup full of heavenly wine
concocted of the bitterness and sweetness of life. Unaware, she
symbolized the oriental woman who never leaves her parents' home until
she puts upon her neck the heavy yoke of her husband, who never leaves
her loving mother's arms until she must live as a slave, enduring the
harshness of her husband's mother.
      I continued to look at Selma and listen to her depressed spirit and
suffer with her until I felt that time has ceased and the universe had
faded from existence. I could see only her two large eyes staring
fixedly at me and could feel only her cold, trembling hand holding
mine.
      I woke from my swoon hearing Selma saying quietly, “Come by beloved,
let us discuss the horrible future before it comes, My father has just
left the house to see the man who is going to be my companion until
death. My father, whom God chose for the purpose of my existence, will
meet the man whom the world has selected to be my master for the rest
of my life. In the heart of this city, the old man who accompanied me
during my youth will meet the young man who will be my companion for
the coming years. Tonight the two families will set the marriage date.
What a strange and impressive hour! Last week at this time, under this
jasmine tree, Love embraced my soul for the first time, okay. While
Destiny was writing the first word of my life's story at the Bishop's
mansion. Now, while my father and my suitor are planning the day of
marriage, I see your spirit quivering around me as a thirsty bird
flickers above a spring of water guarded by a hungry serpent. Oh, how
great this night is! And how deep is its mystery!”
      Learning these words, I felt that dark ghost of complete despondency
was seizing our love to choke it in its infancy, and I answered her,
“That bird will remain flickering over that spring until thirst
destroys him or falls into the grasp of a serpent and becomes its
prey.”
      She responded, “No, my beloved, this nightingale should remain alive
and sing until dark comes, until spring passes, until the end of the
world, and keep on singing eternally. His voice should not be silenced,
because he brings life to my heart, his wings should not be broken,
because their motion removes the cloud from my heart.
      When I whispered, “Selma, my beloved, thirst will exhaust him, and
fear will kill him.”
      She replied immediately with trembling lips, “The thirst of soul is
sweeter than the wine of material things, and the fear of spirit is
dearer than the security of the body. But listen, my beloved, listen
carefully, I am standing today at the door of a new life which I know
nothing about. I am like a blind man who feels his way so that he will
not fall. My father's wealth has placed me in the slave market, and
this man has bought me. I neither know nor love him, but I shall learn
to love him, and I shall obey him, serve him, and make him happy. I
shall give him all that a weak woman can give a strong man.
      But you, my beloved, are still in the prime of life. You can walk
freely upon life's spacious path, carpeted with flowers. You are free
to traverse the world, making of your heart a torch to light your way.
You can think, talk, and act freely; you can write your name on the
face of life because you are a man; you can live as a master because
your father's wealth will not place you in the slave market to be
bought and sold; you can marry the woman of your choice and, before she
lives in your home, you can let her reside in your heart and can
exchange confidences without hindrances.”
      Silence prevailed for a moment, and Selma continued, “But, is it now
that Life will tear us apart so that you may attain the glory of a man
and I the duty of a woman? Is it for this that the valley swallows the
song of the nightingale in its depths, and the wind scatters the petals
of the rose, and the feet tread