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Song of the Flower XXIII
I
am a kind word uttered and repeated By the voice of Nature; I am a star
fallen from the Blue tent upon the green carpet. I am the daughter of
the elements With whom Winter conceived; To whom Spring gave birth; I
was Reared in the lap of Summer and I Slept in the bed of Autumn.
At dawn I unite with the breeze To announce the coming of light;
At eventide I join the birds In bidding the light farewell.
The plains are decorated with My beautiful colors, and the air
Is scented with my fragrance.
As I embrace Slumber the eyes of
Night watch over me, and as I Awaken I stare at the sun, which is
The only eye of the day.
I drink dew for wine, and hearken to
The voices of the birds, and dance To the rhythmic swaying of the grass.
I am the lover's gift; I am the wedding wreath; I am the memory
of a moment of happiness; I am the last gift of the living to the dead;
I am a part of joy and a part of sorrow.
But I look up high to
see only the light, And never look down to see my shadow. This is wisdom
which man must learn.
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Khalil Gibran
(6th January 1883 - 10th April 1931)
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