Even While The Earth Sleeps

God Has Given You A Spirit With Wings On Which To Soar Into The Spacious Firmament Of Love And Freedom. Is It Not Pitiful Than That You Cut Your Wings With Your Own Hands And Suffer Your Soul To Crawl Like An Insect Upon The Earth?

Miserable Is The Man Who Loves A Woman And Takes Her For His Wife, Pouring At Her Feet The Sweat Of His Skin And The Blood Of His Body And The Life Of His Heart, And Placing Her In The Hands Of The Fruit Of His Toil And The Revenue Of His Diligence; For When He Slowly Wakes Up, He Finds That The Heart That He Endeavored To Buy Is Given Away Freely And In Sincerity To Another Man For The Enjoyment Of Its Hidden Secrets And Deepest Love.

The Tiny Flame That Lights Up The Human Heart Is Like A Blazing Torch That Comes Down From Heaven To Light Up The Paths Of Mankind. For In One Soul Are Contained The Hopes And Feelings Of All Mankind.

Spring Is Beautiful Everywhere, But It Is More Than Beautiful In Lebanon. Spring Is The Spirit Of An Unknown God Speeding Through The World, Which, As It Reaches Lebanon, Pauses, Because Now It Is As At Home With The Souls Of The Prophets And Kings Hovering Over The Land, Chanting With The Brooks Of Judea, The Eternal Psalms Of Solomon, Renewing With The Cedars Of Lebanon Memories Of An Ancient Glory.

We Live Only To Discover Beauty. All Else Is A Form Of Waiting