1. The wisdom of fate is that we live drunk,
So gather for me cups and lutes,

2. And present them a world of beautiful delight,
As they present one of the virgins.

3. It is like a rose that bears thorns and fragrance,
And if the perceptive one had to choose, he would choose,

4. We all, we all pull its branches,
And we pick the first fruits of pleasures.

5. Only this one raises his voice in the call,
And this one casts a veil over it.

6. So steal life, do not restrain yourself from stealing it,
And cast off from yourself your borrowed face.

7. You are not important, however long you live,
Except a wing that landed in the pond for a moment, then flew.

8. Or an illusion that appeared on the white chessboard
To onlookers, then disappeared.

9. There is Gibran who dresses poetry in silk,
So he brings about great miracles.

10. He washes the wounded souls with blood,
Thus he covers those wounds with skin.

11. He pours eloquence and rhetoric on the books,
Thus he folds daylight over the darkness.

12. He sends the pure thought as a virgin,
And the morning discloses its waist for it.

13. He rises until he crosses the extent of infatuation,
And until he exposes the secrets.

14. Do you hope to be cured of the disease of neglect,
That they braid a monk's crown for your head?

15. There is Gibran, and he is the Bible of this age,
Its verses overflowing with light.

16. That inheritance from the philosophers of generations,
Destinies revolved around it jealously.

17. That stream that fills the valley with greenery,
And both banks with blossoms.

18. Souls bathe in it, and do not quit
Except as purer wings.

19. And the stars wish, if the night lasted,
It would remain illuminated for its ecstasy.

20. Do you hope to be cured of the disease of neglect,
That they braid a monk’s crown for your head?

21. There is Gibran, the mind sketches paintings
In which intellects wander drunk.

22. Their spirits transcend through the lines
As the captives roared in the iron.

23. And about to reject in awe of art
And depart tearing the atmosphere.

24. He resurrects those wandering in the dusty eras
And they were dust on its path.

25. So there they are, equals who shook off
The ornaments from themselves and tore up the ages.

26. Do you hope to be cured of the disease of neglect,
That they braid a monk’s crown for your head?

27. Die if you wish to be a man of letters,
Or replace Lebanon with another home.

28. A country whose fortunes of its sons
Were divided, so we got from its eggs the crows.

29. The countries should be ashamed to bear
Disgrace. We were satisfied with blaming the fates.

30. What the lips leak as a smile
If you contemplate is nothing but hot wounds.

31. And the man of letters may be excused when
He sends blame, forcibly sending it.

32. O genius, honor of the cedars,
Enough of the cedars, if you were mentioned, pride.

33. Woe to Lebanon, whenever a star shone in it,
It turned away from its horizon and illuminated.

34. The sheikh embraced you as an idea and dust,
I wish he had embraced his branch and the sparrows too.