Khalil Gibran

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

Khalil Gibran Poems

41. Pleasure Xxiv 1/1/2004
42. Prayer Xxiii 1/1/2004
43. Reason And Passion Xv 1/1/2004
44. Religion Xxvi 1/1/2004
45. Self-Knowledge Xvii 1/1/2004
46. Song Of Fortune Vi 1/1/2004
47. Song Of Love Xxiv 1/1/2004
48. Song Of Man Xxv 1/1/2004
49. Song Of The Flower Xxiii 1/1/2004
50. Song Of The Rain Vii 3/23/2010
51. Song Of The Soul Xxii 1/1/2004
52. Song Of The Wave Xvii 1/1/2004
53. Talking Xx 1/1/2004
54. Teaching Xviii 1/1/2004
55. The Beauty Of Death Xiv 1/1/2004
56. The City Of The Dead Xx 1/1/2004
57. The Coming Of The Ship 7/8/2009
58. The Creation I 1/1/2004
59. The Criminal V 1/1/2004
60. The Farewell Xxviii 1/1/2004
61. The House Of Fortune Iii 1/1/2004
62. The Hymn Of Man 3/23/2010
63. The Life Of Love Xvi 1/1/2004
64. The Madman - His Parables And Poems 3/23/2010
65. The Palace And The Hut Xxix 1/1/2004
66. The Playground Of Life Xix 1/1/2004
67. The Poet Viii 1/1/2004
68. The Scarecrow 3/23/2010
69. The Sleep-Walkers 3/23/2010
70. The Two Hermits 3/23/2010
71. The Widow And Her Son Xxi 1/1/2004
72. The Wise Dog 3/23/2010
73. Time Xxi 1/1/2004
74. Two Infants Ii 1/1/2004
75. Two Wishes Xi 1/1/2004
76. Vision X 1/1/2004
77. War 3/24/2010
78. Work Chapter Vii 1/1/2004
79. Yesterday And Today Xii 1/1/2004
80. Your Children 3/24/2010
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

Song Of Love Xxiv

I am the lover's eyes, and the spirit's
Wine, and the heart's nourishment.
I am a rose. My heart opens at dawn and
The virgin kisses me and places me
Upon her breast.


I am the house of true fortune, and the
Origin of pleasure, and the beginning

[Hata Bildir]