"özgürlüğü ve huzuru buldum meczupluğumda; yalnızlığın özgürlüğünü ve anlaşılmamış olmanın huzurunu. çünkü bizi anlayanlar içimizdeki bir şeye de egemen olurlar."

daha ilk sayfada bitirdi cibran. ( )

Librería 1. Estante 6.

The book itself is quite minuscule and contains short parables each replete with a deep philosophical message relevant to mortal vanities & nature . Some of the "stories" are literally just two lines , yet it took me while to grasp it's profundity ; my favorite being "The Lost Language" . ( )

EL LOCO

Leer las historias que narra El Loco es como mantener una conversación con un amigo muy querido que nos invita a reflexionar y nos estimula con ideas nuevas e inspiradoras. Despojados de las mascaras que ocultan nuestros sentimientos y emociones, nos enfrentamos por primera vez a las grandezas y miserias de nuestra alma. Surge entonces en cada uno de nosotros un loco dispuesto a experimentar la libertad de vivir sin pretextos ni ocultaciones, y, sobre todo, sin la necesidad de que nos comprendan, porque cuando nos comprenden, encasillan y esclavizan algo de nosotros. Y es El Loco quien precisamente encarna ese despojamiento, quien pone al descubierto lo mas hondo y subjetivo de cada uno. Aparece para recordarnos que lo esencial habita cerca de nosotros y que podemos recorrer nuestro propio camino. Cada narración constituye un mensaje muy simple, directo y no exento de ironía, destinado a hacernos reflexionar y a descubrir nuevos horizontes

"Y encontré libertad y segurida en mi locura; la libertad de la soleda y la seguridad de estar a salvo de ser comprendido, pues quienes nos comprenden esclavizan algo en nosotros"

Khalil Gibran (1883–1931) autor, poeta y escritor Libanés. Es el tercer poeta mejor vendido de todos los tiempos, después de Shakespeare y Lao-Tzu. Sus mejores libros "El loco" y "El Profeta", han sido traducidos a más de 40 idiomas; este solía decir que traducir una obra, era trasladar la magia de las letras de un idioma, dejarlas libres, y capturarla de nuevo en las letras de otro idioma.

"When my Sorrow was born I nursed it with care, and watched over it with loving tenderness.

And my Sorrow grew like all living things, strong and beautiful and full of wondrous delights.

And we loved one another, my Sorrow and I, and we loved the world about us; for Sorrow had a kindly heart and mine was kindly with Sorrow.

And when we conversed, my Sorrow and I, our days were winged and our nights were girdled with dreams; for Sorrow had an eloquent tongue, and mine was eloquent with Sorrow.

And when we sang together, my Sorrow and I, our neighbours sat at their windows and listened; for our songs were deep as the sea and our melodies were full of strange memories.

And when we walked together, my Sorrow and I, people gazed at us with gentle eyes and whispered in words of exceeding sweetness. And there were those who looked with envy upon us, for Sorrow was a noble thing and I was proud with Sorrow.

But my Sorrow died, like all living things, and alone I am left to muse and ponder.

And now when I speak my words fall heavily upon my ears.

And when I sing my songs my neighbours come not to listen.

And when I walk the streets no one looks at me.

Only in my sleep I hear voices saying in pity, “See, there lies the man whose Sorrow is dead.” "
( )