wings2

BROKEN WINGS

LAKE OF FIRE Everything that a man does secretly in the darkness of night will be clearly
revealed in the daylight. Words uttered in privacy will become unexpectedly
common conversation. Deed which we hide today in the corners of our lodgings
will be shouted on every street tomorrow.
hus the ghosts of darkness revealed the purpose of Bishop Bulos Galib's
meeting with Farris Effandi Karamy, and his conversation was repeated all over
the neighborhood until it reached my ears.
he discussion that took place between Bishop Buols Galib and Farris
Effandi that night was not over the problems of the poor or the widows and
orphans. The main purpose for sending after Farris Effandi and bringing him in
the Bishops' private carriage was the betrothal of Selma to the Bishop's nephew,
Mansour Bey Galib.
elma was the only child of the wealthy Farris Effandi, and the Bishop's
choice fell on Selma, not on account of her beauty and noble spirit, but on
account of her father's money which would guarantee Mansour Bey a good and
prosperous fortune and make him an important man.
he heads of religion in the East are not satisfied with their own munificence,
but they must strive to make all members of their families superiors and
oppressors. The glory of a prince goes to his eldest son by inheritance, but the
exaltation of a religious head is contagious among his brothers and nephews.
Thus the Christian bishop and the Moslem imam and the Brahman priest become
like sea reptiles who clutch their prey with many tentacles and suck their blood
with numerous mouths.
hen the Bishop demanded Selma's hand for his nephew, the only answer
that he received from her father was a deep silence and falling tears, for he hated
to lose his only child. Any man's soul trembles when he is separated from his
only daughter whom he has reared to young womanhood.
he sorrow of parents at the marriage of a daughter is equal to their
happiness at the marriage of a son, because a son brings to the family a new
member, while a daughter, upon her marriage, is lost to them.
arris Effandi perforce granted the Bishop's request, obeying his will
unwillingly, because Farris Effandi knew the Bishop's nephew very well, knew
that he was dangerous, full of hate, wickedness, and corruption.
n Lebanon, no Christian could oppose his bishop and remain in good
standing. No man could disobey his religious head and keep his reputation. The
eye could not resist a spear without being pierced, and the hand could not grasp
a sword without being cut off.
uppose that Farris Effandi had resisted the Bishop and refused his wish;
then Selma's reputation would have been ruined and her name would have been
blemished by the dirt of lips and tongues. In the opinion of the fox, high bunches
of grapes that can't be reached are sour.
hus destiny seized Selma and led her like a humiliated slave in the
procession of miserable oriantal woman, and thus fell that noble spirit into the
trap after having flown freely on the white wings of love in a sky full of moonlight
scented with the odor of flowers.
n some countries, the parent's wealth is a source of misery for the children.
The wide strong box which the father and mother together have used for the
safety of their wealth becomes a narrow, dark prison for the souls of their heirs.
The Almighty Dinar which the people worhsip becomes a demon which punished
the spirit and deadens the heart. Selma karamy was one of those who were the
victims of their parents' wealth and bridegrooms' cupidity. Had it not been for
her father's wealth, Selma would still be living happily.
week had passed. The love of Selma was my sole entertainer, singing songs
of happiness for me at night and waking me at dawn to reveal the meaning of life
and the secrets of nature. It is a heavenlylove that is free from jealousy, rich and
never harmful to the spirit. It is deep affinity that bathes the soul in contentment;
a deep hunger for affection which, when satisfied, fills the soul with bounty; a
tenderness that creates hope without agitating the soul, changing earth to paradise
and life to a sweet and a beautiful dream. In the morning, when I walked in the
fields, I saw the token of Eternity in the awakening of nature, and when I sat by
the seashore I heard the waves singing the song of Eternity. And when I walked
in the streets I saw the beauty of life and the splendor of humanity in the
appearance of passers-by and movements of workers.
hose days passed like ghosts and disappeared like clouds, and soon
nothing was left for me but sorrowful memories. The eye whith which I used to
look at the beauty of spring and the awakening of nature, could see nothing but
the fury of the tempest and the misery of winter. The ears with which I formerly
heard with delight the song of the waves, could hear only the howling of the wind
and the wrath of the sea against the precipice. The soul which had observed
happily the tireless vigor of mankind and the glory of the unvierse, was tortured
by the knowledge of disappointment and failure. Nothing was more beautiful than
those days of love, and nothing was more bitter than those horrible nights of
sorrow.
hen I could no longer resist the impulse, i went, on the weekend, once
more to Selma's home -- the shrine which Beauty had erected and which Love
had blessed, in which the spirit could worship and the heart kneel humbly and
pray. When I entered the garden I felt a power pulling me away from this world
and placing me in a sphere supernaturally free from struggle and harship. Like a
mystic who receives a revelation of Heaven, I saw myself amid the trees and
flowers, and as I approached the entrance of the house I beheld Selma sitting on
the bench in the shadow of a jasmine tree where we both had sat the week
before, on that night which Providence had chosen for the beginning of my
happiness and sorrow.
he neither moved nor spoke as I approached her. She seemed to have
known intuitively that I was coming, and when I sat by her she gazed at me for a
moment and sighed deeply, then turned her head and looked at the sky. And,
after a moment full of magic silence, she turned back toward me and tremblingly
took my hand and said in a faint voice, "Look at me, my friend; study my face
and I read in it that which you want to know and which I can not recite. Look at
me, my beloved... look at me, my brother."
gazed at her intently and saw that those eyes, which a few days ago were
smiling like lips and moving like the wings of a nightingaleyes, were already sunken
and glazed with sorrow and pain. Her face, that had resembled the unfolding,
sunkissed leaves of a lily, had faded and become colorless. Her sweet lips were
like two withering roses that autumn has left on their stems. Her neck, that had
been a column of ivory, was bent forward as if it no longer could support the
burden of grief in her head.
ll these changes I saw in Selma's face, but to me they were like a passing
cloud that covered the face of the moon and makes it more beautiful. A look
which reveals inward stress adds more beauty to the face, no matter how much
tragedy and pain it bespeaks; but the face which, in silence, does not announce
hidden mysteries is not beauitiful, regardless of the symmetry of its features. The
cup does not entice our lips unless the wine's color is seen through the transparent
crystal.
elma, on that evening, was like a cup full of heavenly wine concocted of the
bitterness and sweetness of life. Unaware, she symbolized the oriental woman who
never leaves her parents' home until she puts upon her neck the heavy yoke of her
husband, who never leaves her loving mother's arms until she must live as a slave,
enduring the harshness of her husband's mother.
continued to look at Selma and listen to her depressed spirit and suffer with
her until I felt that time has ceased and the universe had faded from existence. I
could see only her two large eyes staring fixedly at me and could feel only her
cold, trembling hand holding mine.
woke from my swoon hearing Selma saying quietly, "Come by beloved, let
us discuss the horrible future before it comes, My father has just left the house to
see the man who is going to be my companion until death. My father, whom God
chose for the purpose of my existence, will meet the man whom the world has
selected to be my master for the rest of my life. In the heart of this city, the old
man who accompanied me during my youth will meet the young man who will be
my companion for the coming years. Tonight the two families will set the marriage
date. What a strange and impressive hour! Last week at this time, under this
jasmine tree, Love embraced my soul for the first time,okay. While Destiny was
writing the first word of my life's story at the Bishop's mansion. Now, while my
father and my suitor are planning the day of marriage, I see your spirit quivering
around me as a thirsty bird flickers above a spring of water guarded by a hungry
serpent. Oh, how great this night is! And how deep is its mystery!"
earing these words, I felt that dark ghost of complete despondency was
seizing our love to choke it in its infancy, and I answered her, "That bird will
remain flickering over that spring until thirst destroys him or falls into the grasp of
a serpent and becomes its prey."
he responded, "No, my beloved, this nightingale should remain alive and
sing until dark comes, until spring passes, until the end of the world, and keep on
singing eternally. His voice should not be silenced, because he brings life to my
heart, his wings should not be broken, because their motion removes the cloud
from my heart.
hen I whispered, "Selma, my beloved, thirst will exhaust him, and fear will
kill him."
he replied immediately with trembling lips, "The thirst of soul is sweeter than
the wine of material things, and the fear of spirit is dearer than the security of the
body. But listen, my beloved, listen carefully, I am standing today at the door of a
new life which I know nothing about. I am like a blind man who feels his way so
that he will not fall. My father's wealth has placed me in the slave market, and this
man has bought me. I neither know nor love him, but I shall learn to love him, and
I shall obey him, serve him, and make him happy. I shall give him all that a weak
woman can give a strong man.
ut you, my beloved, are still in the prime of life. You can walk freely upon
life's spacious path, carpeted with flowers. You are free to tranverse the world,
making of your heart a torch to light your way. You can think, talk, and act freely;
you can write your name on the face of life because you are a man; you can live as
a master because your father's wealth will not place you in the slave market to be
bought and sold; you can marry the woman of your choice and, before she lives in
your home, you can let her reside in your heart and can exchange confidences
without hindrances."
ilence prevailed for a moment, and Selma continued, "But, is it now that
Life will tear us apart so that you may attain the glory of a man and I the duty of a
woman? Is it for this that the valley swallows the song of the nightingale in its
depths, and the wind scatters the petals of the rose, and the feet tread upon the
wind cup? Were all those nights we spent in the moonlight by the jasmine tree,
where our souls united, in vain? Did we fly swiftly toward the stars until our wings
tired, and are we descending now into the abyss? Or was Love asleep when he
came to us, and did he, when he woke, become angry and decide to punish us?
Or did our spirits turn the nights' breeze into a wind that tore us to pieces and
blew us like dust to the depth of the valley? We disobeyed no commandment, nor
did we taste of forbidden fruit, so what is making us leave this paradise? We never
conspired or practised mutiny, then why are we descending to hell? No, no, the
moments which united us are greater than centuries, and the light that illuminated
our spirits is stronger than the dark; and if the tempest separates us on this rough
ocean, the waves will unite us on the calm shore; and if this life kills us, death will
unite us. A woman's heart will change with time or season; even if it dies eternally,
it will never perish. A woman's heart is like a field turned into a battleground; after
the trees are uprooted and the grass is burned and the rocks are reddened with
blood and the earth is planted with bones and skulls, it is calm and silent as if
nothing has happened; for the spring and autumn come at their intervals and
resume their work.
nd now, my beloved, what shall we do? How shall we part and when shall we
meet? Shall we consider love a strange visitor who came in the evening and left us
in the morning? Or shall we suppose this affection a dream that came in our sleep
and departed when we awoke?
hall we consider this week an hour of intoxication to be replaced by
soberness? Raise your head and let me look at you, my beloved; open your lips
and let me hear your voice. Speak to me! Will you remember me after this tempest
has sunk the ship of our love? Will you hear the whispering of my wings in the
silence of the night? Will you hear my spirit fluttering over you? Will you listen to
my sighs? Will you see my shadow approach with the shadows of dusk and
disappear with the flush of dawn? Tell me, my beloved, what will you be after
having been magic ray to my eyes, sweet song to my ears, and wings to my soul?
What will you be?"
earing these words, my heart melted, and I answered her, " I will be as you
want me to be, my beloved."
hen she said, " I want you to love me as a poet loves his sorrowful thoughts.
I want you to remember me as a traveler remembers a calm pool in which his
image was reflected as he drank its water. I want you to remember me as a mother
remember her child that died before it saw the light, and I want you to remember
me as a merciful king remembers a prisoner who died before his pardon reached
him. I want you to be my companion, and I want you to visit my father and
console him in his solitude because I shall be leaving him soon and shall be a
stranger to him.
I answered her, saying, " I will do all you have said and will make my soul an
envelope for your soul, and my heart a residence for your beauty and my breast a
grave for your sorrows. I shall love you , Selma, as the prairies love the spirng,
and I shall live in you in the life of a flower under the sun's rays. I shall sing your
name as the valley sings the echo of the bells of the village churches; I shall listen
to the language of your soul as the shore listens to the story of the waves. I shall
remember you as a stranger remembers his beloved country, and as a hungry man
remembers a banquet, and as a dethroned king remembers the days of his glory,
and as a prisoner remembers the hours of ease and freedom. I shall remember you
as a sower remembers the bundles of wheat on his threshing flour, and as a
shepherd remembers the green prairies the sweet brooks."
elma listened to my words with palpitating heart, and said "Tomorrow the
truth will become ghostly and the awakening will be like a dream. Will a lover be
satisfied embracing a ghost, or will a thirsty man quench his thirst from the spring
or a dream?"
I answered her, "Tomorrow, destiny will put you in the midst of a peaceful
family, but it will send me into the world of struggle and warfare. You will be in the
home of a person whom chance has made most fortunate through your beauty and
virtue, while I shall be living a life of suffering and fear. You will enter the gate of
life, while I shall enter the gate of death. You will be received hospitably, while I
shall exist in solitude, but I shall erect a statue of love and worship it in the valley
of death. Love will be my sole comforter, and I shall drink love like wine and wear
it like garment. At dawn, Love will wake me from slumber and take me to the
distant field, and at noon will lead me to the shadows of trees, where I will find
shelter with the birds from the heat of the sun. In the evening, it will cause me to
pause before sunset to hear nature's farewell song to the light of day and will show
me ghostly clouds sailing in the sky. At night, Love will embrace me, and I shall
sleep, dreaming of the heavenly world where the spirits of lovers and poets abide.
In the Spring I shall walk side by side with love among violets and jasmines and
drink the remaining drops of winter in the lily cups. In Summer we shall make the
bundles of hay our pillows and the grass our bed, and the blue sky will cover us
as we gaze at the stars and the moon.
n Autumn, Love and I will go to the vineyard and sit by the wine press and
watch the grapevines being denuded of their golden ornaments, and the migrating
flocks of birds will wing over us. In Winter, we shall sit by the fireside reciting
stories of long ago and chronicles of far countries. During my youth, Love will be
my teacher; in middle age, my help; and in old age, my delight. Love, my beloved
Selma, will stay with me to the end of my life, and after death the hand of God will
unite us again."
ll these words came from the depths of my heart like flames of fire which leap
raging from the hearth and then disappear in the ashes. Selma was weeping as if
her eyes were lips answering me with tears.
hose whom love has not given wings cannot fly the cloud of appearances to
see the magic world in which Selma's spirit and mine existed together in that
sorrowfully happy hour. Those whom Love has not chosen as followers do not
hear when Love calls. This story is not for them. Even if they should comprehend
these pages, they would not be able to grasp the shadowy meanings which are not
clothed in words and do not reside on paper, but what human being is he who has
never sipped the wine from the cup of love, and what spirit is it that has never
stood reverently before that lighted altar in the temple whose pavement is the
hearts of men and women and whose ceiling is the secret canopy of dreams?
What flower is that on whose leaves the dawn has never poured a drop of dew;
what streamlet is that which lost its course without going to the sea?
Selma raised her face toward the sky and gazed at the heavenly stars which
studded the firmament. She stretched out her hands; her eyes widened, and her
lips trembled. On her pale face, I could see the signs of sorrow, oppression,
hoplessness, and pain. Then she cried, " Oh, Lord, what has a woman done that
hath offedend Thee? What sin has she committed to deserve such a punishment?
For what crime has she been awarded everlasting castigation? Oh, Lord, Thou art
strong, and I am weak. Why hast Thou made me suffer pain? Thou art great and
almighty, while I am nothing but a tiny creature crawling before Thy throne. Why
hast Thou crushed me with Thy foot? Thou art a raging tempest, and I am like
dust; why, my Lord, hast Thou flung me upon the cold earth? Thou art powerful,
and I am helpless; why art Thou fighting me? Thou art considerate, and I am
prudent; why art Thou destroying me? Thou hast created woman with love, and
why, with love, dost Thou ruin her? With Thy right hand dost Thou lift her, and
with Thy left hand dost Thou strike her into the abyss, and she knows not why. In
her mouth Thou blowest the breath of Life, and in her heart Thou sowest the
seeds of death. Thou dost show her the path of happiness, but Thou leadest her in
the road of misery; in her mouth Thou dost place a song of happiness, but then
Thou dost close her lips with sorrow and dost fetter her tongue with agony. With
Thy mysterious fingers dost Thou dress her wounds, and with Thine hands Thou
drawest the dread of pain round her pleasures. In her bed Thou hidest pleasure
and peace, but beside it Thou dost erect obstacles and fear. Thou dost excite her
affection through Thy will, and from her affection does shame emanate. By Thy
will Thou showest her the beauty of creation, but her love for beauty becomes a
terrible famine. Thou dost make her drink life in the cup of death, and death in the
cup of life. Thou purifiest her with tears, and in tears her life streams away. Oh,
Lord, Thou hast opened my eyes with love, and with love Thou hast blinded me.
Thou hast kissed me with Thy lips and struck me with Thy strong hand. Thou has
planted in my heart a white rose, but around the rose a barrier of thorns. Thou hast
tied my present with the spirit of a young man whom I love, but my life with the
body of an unknow man. So help me, my Lord, to be strong in this deadly
struggle and assist me to be truthful and virtuous until death. Thy will be done. Oh
, Lord God."
ilence continued. Selma looked down, pale and frail; her arms dropped, and
her head bowed and it seemed to me as if a tempest had broken a branch from a
tree and cast it down to dry and perish.
took her cold hand and kissed it, but when I attempted to console her it was I
who needed consolation more than she did. I kept silent, thinking of our plight and
listening to my heartbeats. Neither of us said more.
xtreme torture is mute, and so we sat silent, petrified, like columns of marble
buried under the sand of an earthquake. Neither wished to listen to the other
because our heart-threads had become weak and even breathing would have
broken them.
t was midnight, and we could see the crescent moon rising from behind
Mount Sunnin, and it looked in the midst of the stars, like the face of a corpse, in
a coffin surrounded by the dim lights of candles. And Lebanon looked like an old
man whose back was bent with age and whose eyes were a haven for insomnia,
watching the dark and waiting for dawn, like asking sitting on the ashes of his
thorne in the debris of his palace.
he mountains, trees, and rivers change their appearance with the vicissitudes
of times and seasons, as a man changes with his experiences and emotions. The
lofty poplar that resembles a bride in the daytime, will look like a column of smoke
in the evening; the huge rock that stands impregnable at noon, will appear to be a
miserable pauper at night, with earth for his bed and the sky for his cover; and the
rivulet that we see glittering in the morning and hear singing the hymn of Eternity,
will, in the evening, turn to a stream of tears wailing like a mother bereft of her
child, and Lebanon, that had looked dignified a week before, when the moon was
full and our spirits were happy, looked sorrowful and lonesome that night.
e stood up and bade each other farewell, but love and despair stood
between us like two ghosts, one stretching his wings with his fingers over our
throats, one weeping and the other laughing hideously.
s I took Selma's hand and put it to my lips, she came close to me and placed
a kiss on my forehead, then dropped on the wooden bench. She shut her eyes and
whispered softly, "Oh, Lord God, have mercy on me and mend my broken
wings!"
s i left Selma in the garden, I felt as if my senses were covered with a thick
veil, like a lake whose surface is concealed by fog.
he beauty of trees, the moonlight, the deep silence, everything about me
looked ugly and horrible. The true light that had showed me the beauty and
wonder of the universe was converted to a great flame of fire that seared my heart;
and the Eternal music I used to hear became a clamor, more frightening than the
roar of a lion.
I reached my room, and like a wounded bird shot down by a hunter, I fell on
my bed, repeating the words of Selma: "Oh, Lord God, have mercy on me and
mend my broken wings!"
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