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Cornerstones

Gibran left an Empire decaying
in ashes of former greatness.
Who will come as phoenix to nation
reborn, growing steadily in strength?
Moulding itself in virtue’s light
seeking crystal rays of clear vision.

Must many bring cornerstones together
for construction of a monument’s making?
Master builder cannot build
on gigantean scale alone.
To build an edifice to mankind
takes co-operative efforts of many hands.

How is it O Lebanon! Splinter cast free
of encroaching empires’ dominance
that war has come to tear your heart?
From heaven’s height O Beirut
do tears fall of Gibran’s weeping.

In your streets do your children die emasculated
stricken with hunger’s pain, diseases’ clawing hand.
Though exiled by masters of a former empire
Gibran never left you O Lebanon.
His body was ever cloaked with garment
of your ways his heart, ever full
with a father’s love O Lebanon.

Where are his sons Oh country of his love?
To comfort children of that love in need.
To stay bloody hand tearing a noble heart,
to lead toward prosperity and rejoicing.
Where O Lebanon! And where is promise?
Vision his awakened dream foretold overflowing.

Come new nations
of Empires ancient origin
as stranger walking streets
beyond antiquated walls.
Crushing inwards
are confining
mounds of rubble.
Future cities
have outgrown
their necessity.

In mosque and bazaar also pass
heralded, shadow of new age.
Paying homage to belief to tradition
which is upheld in all found good.
But swift and mighty be axe
to cut out cleanly,
creeping rotting wood.

For a strong nation
facing a demanding age;
Cannot stand
on weak foundations
time’s undermined.

Like prophets chosen of Allah
calming waves
of an encroaching hungry sea
are those enlightened
hearing the stirring of a coming voice.

When will you hear O Lebanon?
When will you gather fruit
prepared of your prophet?
Gladly eat of love’s gift
to lighten centuries’ burden?
Are not all races of man
starving simultaneously as one?

But then children
yours was a political
Lebanon’s problems.
His was Lebanon
of natural beauty.

Shrouds of ash and smoke burn
like funeral fires.
Hide face of the moon.
May wisdom’s seed blossom
in the garden of your soul.

Khalil Gibran was born in the Christian Maronite town of Bsharri in Lebanon, then part of the Ottoman Empire in decline, the remnant of which became the Republic of Turkey, under the leadership of Generals like Kazim Karabekir and Mustafa Kamel; who became Mustafa Kemal Atatürk. Gibran’s mother was the daughter of a Maronite priest and priests taught Gibran about the Bible, and Arabic and Syriac languages. Maronite Christian’s spoke a dialect of Aramic and Christian Aramaic is still the liturgical language of the Maronite Church. Gibran returned to his homeland, at age fifteen, to study at a Maronite institute in Beirut. Gibran supported Arabic as a national language for Syria and wrote the famous poem ‘Pity The Nation’.

poem by Terence George Craddock
Added by Poetry Lover
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