Khalil Gibran

(January 6, 1883 – April 10, 1931 / Bsharri)

Khalil Gibran Poems

1. A Lover's Call Xxvii 1/1/2004
2. A Poet's Death Is His Life Iv 1/1/2004
3. A Poet's Voice Xv 1/1/2004
4. A Tear And A Smile 3/23/2010
5. A Visit From Wisdom 3/23/2010
6. Beauty Xxv 1/1/2004
7. Before The Throne Of Beauty Xxvi 1/1/2004
8. Buying And Selling Chapter Xi 1/1/2004
9. Chapter 9 - The Seven Selves 3/23/2010
10. Children 7/8/2009
11. Clothes Chapter X 1/1/2004
12. Crime And Punishment Chapter Xii 1/1/2004
13. Dead Are My People 9/5/2013
14. Death Xxvii 1/1/2004
15. Eating And Drinking Chapter Vi 1/1/2004
16. Freedom Xiv 1/1/2004
17. Friendship Ixx 1/1/2004
18. Give Me The Flute 4/17/2014
19. Giving Chapter V 1/1/2004
20. God 3/23/2010
21. Good And Evil Xxii 1/1/2004
22. Houses Chapter Ix 1/1/2004
23. Joy And Sorrow Chapter Viii 1/1/2004
24. Laughter And Tears Ix 1/1/2004
25. Laws Xiii 1/1/2004
26. Leave Me, My Blamer Xiii 1/1/2004
27. Let These Be Your Desires 3/23/2010
28. Love 7/8/2009
29. Love Chapter Ii 3/29/2010
30. Love Is A Magic Ray 3/23/2010
31. Love One Another 3/23/2010
32. Marriage 7/8/2009
33. My Friend 3/23/2010
34. On Death 3/23/2010
35. On Friendship 12/9/2014
36. On Giving And Taking 3/23/2010
37. On Pain 1/1/2004
38. On Religion 3/23/2010
39. Pain 7/8/2009
40. Peace Xviii 1/1/2004
Best Poem of Khalil Gibran

On Pain

Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses
your understanding.

Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its
heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.

And could you keep your heart in wonder at the
daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem
less wondrous than your joy;

And you would accept the seasons of your heart,
even as you have always accepted the seasons that
pass over your fields.

And you would watch with serenity through the
winters of your grief.

Much of your pain is self-chosen. ...

Read the full of On Pain

Freedom Xiv

And an orator said, "Speak to us of Freedom."

And he answered:

At the city gate and by your fireside I have seen you prostrate yourself and worship your own freedom,

Even as slaves humble themselves before a tyrant and praise him though he slays them.

Ay, in the grove of the temple and in the shadow of the citadel I have seen the freest among you wear their freedom as a yoke and a handcuff.

[Hata Bildir]