Chapter 9 Prophet (2)

free An orator said, please tell us about liberty. He replied: By the gates, by the fires, I have seen you throw yourself down and worship your freedom, Like slaves bowing their knees before a tyrant, though they are ravaged by him. Alas, in the jungle of temples, in the shadow of the castle.I have seen the freest of you wear your freedom in shackles. My heart bleeds from my breast; for you are free only when you feel that the desire to seek freedom is also a bondage, only when you cease to call freedom an end and an achievement. When your days are not carefree, and your nights are not without hope and sorrow, you are free,

But when these things bind your life, and you rise above them, naked and free, you are freer. How can you rise beyond your day and night unless you break the chains that locked your noon in the dawn of your knowledge? Indeed, what you call liberty is the strongest of chains, though its links, shining in the sun, dazzle your eyes. Isn't it a part of yourself that you want to throw away in exchange for freedom? If that is a law that you wish to abolish, it is written on your foreheads by your hand. You cannot erase it, even if you burn the codes or pour the waters of the sea to wash the brows of the judges.

If it is a tyrant you wish to dethrone, see first if his throne in your hearts has been destroyed. For how can a tyrant rule over free and dignified men, if there is no despotism in their liberty, and no disgrace in their dignity? If that's an anxiety you want to get rid of, it's not imposed on you, it's your choice. If that is the fear you are trying to dispel, it is rooted in your heart, not in the hands of the object of the fear. Indeed, expectations and fears, aversions and treasures, pursuits and escapes, all of these are always embracing and running in your body, just like light and shadow are closely dependent on each other.

When the shadow disappears, the remaining light becomes the shadow of another light. Therefore, when your freedom is freed from its shackles, it will itself become a shackle to a greater freedom. reason and passion Then the priestess spoke again: Tell us about reason and passion. He replied: Your mind is often the battlefield where your reason and judgment meet your passions and desires. How I wish I could be the creator of your peace of mind, turning the opposing elements in your heart into a harmonious melody. If you are not peacemakers of your own elements, or even lovers of your own elements, how can I do it?

Your reason and passion are the rudder and sail of your sailing soul. If your rudder or sails are damaged, you will only be wandering at sea, or stranded at sea. Reason reigns alone, and is a repressive force; passion, free and unrestrained, is a flame that burns everything until it burns itself. Therefore let your souls raise reason to the height of passion, and it will sing; Let your soul guide your passions with reason, so that your passions experience a daily resurrection, like a phoenix rising from its own ashes. I want you to consider your own judgments and desires as two beloved guests in your home.

You obviously don't favor one over the other; for too much emphasis on one will cost you both the friendship and confidence of both. In the mountains, as you sit under the shade of the poplars, and share the peace and quiet of the distant fields,--let your hearts say in silence, "God dwells in reason." When the storm comes, and the wind shakes the forest, and the lightning and thunder announce the majesty of the sky,—let your hearts say in awe, "God works in passion." Since you are a breath in the realm of God, a leaf in the forest of God, you should also live in reason and operate in passion.

pain A woman said, please tell us about pain. He said: Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding. Yet just as the nucleus must rupture and be exposed to the sun, so must you experience pain. Every day your hearts marvel at the miracle of life, and your pain seems as wondrous as your joy; You will be used to the seasons of the mind as you are used to the seasons of coming and going in the fields. So you can look at your dreary winter with peace of mind. Much of your suffering is your own choice. It is the bitter medicine that your inner doctor uses to heal your sick body.So trust the Physician, and drink his potion in peace:

Because his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided by a soft hand that is hidden. The cup he serves, though it burns your lips, is made by the potter who wets the clay with his own holy tears. self-knowledge A man said, please tell us about self-knowledge. He replied: In silence your hearts comprehend the secrets of day and night. Your ears thirst for the knowledge of your hearts. You want to know with words what you have always known with consciousness. You want to touch with your fingers the naked bodies of your dreams. This is exactly what you should do. The inexhaustible fountain hidden deep in your souls does need to spring up, flowing wetly to the sea;

The treasures of the infinite depths of your hearts will be revealed before your eyes. But do not weigh in scales riches that you do not know; Nor measure your knowledge with rods or cords. For the self is a boundless and immeasurable ocean. Don't say "I've found the truth", Instead, say "I have discovered a truth." Don't say "I found the way of the soul", Instead, say "I met the spirit that wandered my path." For the soul walks in all paths. The soul does not move in a straight line, nor does it grow like a reed. The soul stretches and blooms like a lotus with countless petals.

educate Then a teacher said, please tell us about education. He said: No one can enlighten you but that which lies half-awake in the dawn of your understanding. A teacher who walks in the shadow of the temple and among his followers imparts not his wisdom but his faith and love. If he were indeed wise, you would not be commanded to enter the halls of his wisdom, but the bow!Guide you to the door of your own soul. The astronomer can teach you his understanding of space, but he cannot give you his sense. A musician can sing to you a melody that resounds everywhere, but he cannot give you an ear to catch it, or a voice to respond to it.

Men of mathematics can talk about the realm of weights and measures, but they cannot lead you there. For the insight of one man cannot lend its wings to another. Just as each of you stands alone in the world of God's knowledge, each of you has independent knowledge and understanding of God and the world. friendship A young man said, please tell us about friendship. He replied: Your friend is the answer to your needs. He is your land, which you sow with love and reap with gratitude. He is your table and your hearth, to whom you come when you are hungry and seek peace. When your friend pours out his heart, you won't fear the "no" in your heart, nor will you suppress the "yes" in your heart. When he is silent, your heart will not cease to listen to his heart; For in the unspoken friendship, all thoughts, all desires, all expectations are shared with silent joy. You will not grieve when parting from your friends; Because when he's not around, what's most dear to you in him will stand out more clearly, like a mountain peak to a climber on a plain. Don't think of your friendship for anything other than the hope of deepening the spiritual realm. For love that seeks only to reveal its secrets is not true love, but a net that it casts: and catches only the useless. Give your best to your friends. If he must know your ebb, let him know your ebb too. A friend you only seek out when you want to pass the time, is it still a friend? talk Please speak for us, said a scholar. He replied: When you cannot live in peace with your thoughts, you start talking; When you can no longer live in the loneliness of the soul, you will turn to live in the tongue, and the sound becomes a kind of entertainment and pastime. In many utterances almost half of your thoughts are stifled. Because thought is a bird belonging to the sky, it may be able to spread its wings in the cage of language, but it cannot fly. Some of you have become loquacious out of fear of being alone. The silence of solitude reveals to them their naked selves, and they flee. There are those who talk too much, but lack the knowledge and insight to express a truth they do not understand. Some people have truth in their hearts but never put it into words. In the breasts of these people the spirit lives in silent rhythms. When you meet your friends on the roadside or in the fair, let the spirit within you move your lips and guide your mouthpiece. Let the voice in your voice speak to the ear in his ear; For his soul shall preserve the truth of your heart, Like wine, when the color is forgotten and the glass is no more, its taste will still be remembered. time An astronomer said, Master, what is time like? He replied: You want to measure the infinite and immeasurable time. You want to adjust your demeanor and even channel your spirits to the times and seasons. You are willing to build a stream of time and watch the flowing water pass by on the bank. Yet the infinity in you is aware of the infinity of life. It knows that yesterday is but a memory of today, and tomorrow is but a dream of today. Therefore, it that sings and thinks within you is still in that first moment that scattered the stars across the sky. Who among you does not feel that the power of love is boundless? Who does not feel that love, though inexhaustible, is still bound to him, unable to move in loving thought and in loving action? Isn't time like love, indivisible without gaps? But if you think it necessary to measure time by seasons, let each season contain the others, Let today embrace the past with memory and the future with hope. good and evil An old man in the city said, Please tell us about good and evil. He replied: I can speak of the good in you, but not of the evil. For what is evil but good tortured by its own hunger and thirst? Indeed, when the good is hungry, it will even seek food in dark caves; when it is thirsty, it will even drink from dead water. You are good when you are one with yourself. But you are not evil when you are not identical with yourself. Because a divided house is not a den of thieves, it is just a divided house. Even if there is no rudder, the ship will only drift on the dangerous shore, and will not sink to the bottom of the sea. You are good when you strive to give yourselves. But you are not evil when you seek your own gain. For when you seek to benefit yourselves, you are but roots clinging to the earth and sucking her milk. Apparently, the fruit does not say to the newspaper: "Follow me, ripe and full, always give your abundance." For giving is as necessary to the fruit as receiving is to the root. You are good when you are sane in your speech. But you are not evil when your tongues wag blindly in your sleep. For even babble and stuttering will strengthen a weak tongue. You are good when you stride firmly toward your goal. But you are not evil when you stagger. For he who falters does not go backwards. But whoever is strong and quick, do not walk in front of the disabled, thinking that it is a good deed. Your goodness is manifested in all aspects, and when you are not good, you are not evil, You are just idle or lazy. Unfortunately, Benlu couldn't teach the turtle to be agile. Your goodness resides in your longing for your "higher self"; each of you has this longing. But the longing of some of you is the torrent roaring to the sea, carrying the secrets of the mountains and the songs of the forest. For others, the longing is a gentle stream that relaxes in its meanders or turns before reaching the shore. But let not he who desires abundance say to the ascetic, "Why are you so slow and hesitating?" Because a real good man will not ask a naked person, "What about your clothes?" nor ask a homeless person, "What about your house?" pray Then a priestess said, please tell us about prayer. He replied: You pray in times of pain or need; I hope you will also pray in days of joyful contentment and abundance. For isn't your prayer an extension of your ego into the space of life? If pouring your darkness into space is for your relief, then pouring your dawn into space is for your delight. If all you can do is cry when your spirit calls you, she will whip you on and on in your weeping until you laugh. In prayer you will ascend to the skies and see those who are praying with you, and those you will never see except in prayer. So let your visits to the invisible temple be pure joy and sweet communion. For if you visit the temple only to seek, you will not be received; If you come to demean yourselves, you will not be exalted; Even if you enter the temple to bless others, you will not be heard. It is enough for you to enter the Temple incognito. I cannot teach you to pray with words. God does not hear your words unless He Himself directs them from your lips. Nor can I teach you the prayers of seas and forests and mountains. But you who were born of the sea, of the forest, of the mountains, may find their prayers in your hearts. If you listen in the silence of night, you will hear them say in silence: "Our God, which is our winged self, is your will that works in us. "It is your wish that expresses the wish within us. "It is your impulse within us to turn our, really your night, into our, really your day. "We cannot ask anything from you, because you have seen the need long before it was formed in us. "You are what we need; when you give us more of yourself, you give us all." pleasure A hermit who visited the city once a year came forward and said, Please tell us about pleasure. He replied: Pleasure is a song of freedom, But it is not freedom. It is the flower of hope that you bloom, But not their fruit. It is the call of the abyss to the summit, But it is not an abyss, nor a peak. It is a caged and outstretched wing, But not the surrounding space. Oh, it is true, pleasure is a song of freedom. I would like you to sing it with all your heart, but not to lose your heart in singing. Some of you young ones seek pleasure as if it meant everything; they are judged and condemned. I will neither judge them nor condemn them.I let them go after it. For they seek more than pleasure; Pleasure had seven sisters, and the youngest of them was more beautiful than she. Haven't you heard the story of a man who dug up his roots and found a treasure? Some of you old men recall pleasure with chagrin, as if it were a drunken mistake. But remorse only clouded the mind, not punished it. They should rejoice with grateful remembrances, as of summer harvests. But if repentance is their consolation, let them be their consolation. There are some of you who are neither youth full of pursuit nor old man steeped in memory; They shun all pleasure in fear of pursuit and recollection, lest they alienate or offend the soul. But enjoyment is also present in their lives, So even with trembling hands they dig the earth for roots, they can find treasure. But tell me, who can offend a soul? Will the night drive offend the quiet night, and will the fireflies offend the starry sky? Will your cannon and smoke offend the wind? Do you think the soul is a stagnant water that you can disturb with a stick? When you strongly resist pleasure, you are actually storing the desire for pleasure in a dormant ego. Who doesn't know that those who seem to be left out today will wait until tomorrow? Even your bodies understand their natural nature and legitimate needs and will not be fooled. Your bodies are the harps of your souls, It makes sweet music, Or noise, that's all up to you. Now you are wondering: "How do we discern good from bad in pleasure?" Go into your fields, and you will know that gathering nectar is the joy of bees, And with flowers, it is fun to provide honey to bees. For the flower is the source of life to the bee, Bees are messengers of love to flowers, For both, the bee and the flower, the joy of giving and receiving is both a need and a great desire. People of Orphalias, enjoy your joy like flowers and bees! beautiful Tell us something about beauty, said a poet. He replied: If beauty does not use itself as a way, as a guide, how can you find dimension wherever you go? How can you speak of her if she is not the weaver of your words? Says the sad and distressed: "Beauty is kind and gentle. "She walked by our side like a young mother half-shy in her own glory." The Enthusiast says, "No, beauty is powerful and awe-inspiring. "She shakes the earth beneath us like a storm and the sky above us." The weary say: "Beauty is the soft whisper that speaks in our hearts. "Her voice wavered through our silence like a faint light trembling in fear of shadows." But the Vivacious Says: "We heard her cry in the valley, "Following that cry was the sound of stamping feet, flapping wings, and a lion's roar." At night, the night watchman of the city said: "Beauty will rise from the east with the morning light." At noon, the toiler and the long-distance traveller, said: "We saw her look out on the earth through the window of twilight." In severe winter, people trapped in the snow said: "She will come with spring, jumping joyfully among the mountains." In the scorching heat, the harvester said: "We have seen her dance with the autumn leaves, and the snowflakes dotted the ends of her hair." All this you talk about beauty, It's not really about her, it's about your unmet needs, But beauty is not a need, but an ecstatic delight. She is not thirsty lips, nor empty hands stretched out, But a burning heart, a soul full of joy. She is not the image you want to see, nor is she the song you want to hear, It is the image you see when you close your eyes, and the song you hear when you close your ears. She is not the sap under the bark of the crippled tree, nor the wing under the talons. It is a garden where flowers bloom forever, a group of angels who are always flying in the sky. People of Orphalias, beauty is life when life throws off the veil from her holy countenance. But you are the life and the veil. Beauty is the eternity of gazing at one's own reflection in the mirror. But you are eternity, and you are also the mirror. religion An old priest said, please tell us about religion. He said: Isn't that what I said today? Is religion not all deeds and all reflections, And those that are neither acts nor reflections, but a wonder and surprise that pour into the heart as hands hew a stone or fondle a loom? Who can separate his ideas from his actions, or his beliefs from his duties? Who can lay his time before him and say, "This is God's and that is mine; this is my mind and that is my body?" All your time is wings that flap in the sky, from one self to the other. He who wears morality as his best clothes is better off naked. Wind and sun do not break their skin. He who rules his conduct ethically imprisons his own singing bird in a cage. The freest song cannot come from chains and bars. He who now worships a window that is opened and closed has not yet visited the house of his soul, the house of which The windows are always open from dawn to dawn. Your daily life is your temple and your religion. Clear into it with all of you. With a rake and a furnace, a rod and a harp. Take with you the usual things you make out of need or love. For in piety you cannot rise higher than your achievements, nor fall lower than your failures. Bring everyone into it. For in worship you cannot soar higher than their hopes, nor lower yourselves than their disappointments. If you want to know God, don't be a riddle solver. Look around and you will find him playing with your children. Look up to the sky, and you will see him walking in the clouds, reaching out in the lightning, and descending in the rain. You will see him smiling among the flowers and waving at the trees. die Then Elmetra spoke again: Now we want to ask you about everything related to death. He said: You want to know the secret of death. But where will you find it except in the heart of life? An owl that only opens its eyes in the dark, but blind in the day, cannot lift the veil that hides the secret of light. If you really want to see the soul of death, then open your hearts for the body of life. For life and death are one, like the river and the sea. Your knowledge of the afterlife is hidden in the depths of your hopes and desires; Like seeds of sweet dreams under the snow, your hearts dream of spring. Believe in your dreams, for within them are hidden portals to eternity. Your fear of death trembles like the shepherd's that stands before the king, whose head will honor the king's hand. Does not the shepherd who bears the king's seal feel joy even when he trembles? But why did he care more about his trembling? Is not death to stand in the wind and melt in the sun? Is not the cessation of the breath the release of the breath from its unending tides, so that it may rise, expand, and seek God unfettered? Only when you drink from the waters of silence do you really sing. Only when you reach the top of the mountain do you really start climbing. Only when your limbs are taken by the earth do you really dance. bid farewell It was already night. Blessed is this day, this place, and the heart to which you pour out, said the prophetess Elmetra. He replied: "Am I just a talker? Am I not also a listener?" He descended the steps of the temple, and the people followed him.He boarded his ship and stood on the deck. Facing the people again, he raised his voice and said: "People of Orphalias! The wind is urging me to leave you. "Though I am not as eager as the wind, I must go. "We are vagabonds ever seeking lonelier paths, our days are not Another day begins at the end; nor will the morning sun find us where the evening sun left us. "Even when the earth sleeps, we are on our way. "We are living seeds, and when our hearts are ripe and fulfilled, we are offered Let the wind blow away in all directions. " The days I spent among you were short, and the words I poured out to you were even shorter. But if my voice dies from your ears and my love dies from your hearts, then I will come again, I will speak with a fuller heart and more spiritual lips. Yes, I will come on waves, Maybe death will hide me, deeper silence will cover me, but again I will seek your understanding. And my search will not be in vain. If I speak the truth, then the truth will express itself in words that are clearer and closer to your hearts. O people of Orphalias!I will go with the wind, but not into the void; If today is not the day to fulfill your needs and fulfill My love, then let it be the hope that someday it will be. A man's needs may change, but his love does not change, nor does his desire to satisfy his needs with love. You should know that I will return from a deeper silence. The fog that dissipates at dawn leaves the dew on the earth, which rises and condenses into clouds, and then turns into rain and falls. I am no different from fog. I have occupied your streets in the still of night, and my spirit has floated into your houses. With your heart beating in my breast, your breath in my face, I know you all. Yes, I feel your joys and your pains, and the dreams of your sleep are mine too. How many times have I been among you like a lake in a valley. I am like a mirror, reflecting your mountain peaks, your crooked slopes, even the thoughts and desires that linger in your hearts. The laughter of your children in the stream and the longing of your youth in the river floated into my heart. When they come to the depths of my heart, the brooks and rivers still don't stop singing. But something sweeter than laughter, deeper than longing, entered my heart. Such is the infinity in you; This is a giant, and you are but cells and tendons in his body; He is a singer, to whom your singing is but a soundless trembling. In giants you are vast, I love you by looking at him, looking at you. Where is the place that love can reach that does not belong to the territory of this element? What insights, what expectations, what hypotheses can fly over that airspace? The giant stands within you like a great oak covered with apple blossoms, His strength binds you to the earth, his fragrance lifts you to the air, and in his immortality you live forever. You have often been told that you are as weak as the weakest link. This is half true.For you are also as strong as the strongest link. To evaluate you by your small actions is to speculate on the majesty of the sea by the fragility of bubbles. To judge you by your failures is to blame the seasons for their capriciousness. Indeed, you are like the sea, Like the sea, you are in no hurry to ride the tide, though laden ships lie on your shores waiting for the tide to rise. You too are like the seasons, Though in winter you forsake spring, But look at the spring in your heart, smile in your sleep, don't take it seriously. Don't think I'm talking about this so that you can say to each other "He admires us. He only sees the best in us". What I tell you in words is what your own consciousness comprehends. Is not verbal knowledge the shadow of invisible knowledge? Your consciousness and my words, are waves from our closed memories that record our past, Recording those distant days when the earth knew neither us nor herself, Recorded also those nights, when the earth tossed and tossed in chaos and perplexity. The wise come to bring you wisdom, but I come to seek your wisdom: For I have discovered something beyond wisdom. That is the spirit that burns continuously in you, And you did not heed its development, but mourned the passing of your years. This is life pursuing life in the flesh that fears the grave. There are no graves here. These mountains and plains are the cradle, the stepping stones of the brook. Whenever you walk past the place where your ancestors are buried, watch carefully and you will see yourselves dancing with your children holding hands. Indeed, you often create joy without knowing it. You have been visited by others, too, who have paid you riches, power, and glory for their golden promise to your beliefs. What I give you is not worth a promise, but you are more generous to me. You have given me a deeper desire for life. Indeed, there is no better gift in the world to a man than to turn all his hopes into burnt lips, and all his life into oasis. Here is my glory and reward,— Whenever I come to the fountain to drink, I find that the stream of life is also thirsty; When I drink it, it drinks me. Some of you think I'm condescending or too timid to accept gifts. I am indeed too proud to accept payment, but not a gift. Though when you invite me to sit at your table, I eat on the grapes of the mountains, Though you invited me to stay, I slept in the porch of the temple. However, isn't it your love for me day and night that makes food sweet in my mouth and beautiful scenery in my dreams? For this I wish you: You give so much and you don't know it. Verily, the mercy that admires itself in the mirror, turns to stone, Good deeds boasting of various good names will turn into a source of curses. Some of you think I'm aloof, reveling in my solitude, Say, "He talks to the trees of the forest, but he pays no attention to man. "He sits alone on the top of the mountain overlooking our city." Indeed, I have climbed high mountains and walked through lonely places. But how can I see you if not from higher and farther? How can people get close if they are far away from their original appearance? Others of you have said to me, but not in words, they have said: "O weirdo, weirdo! You who love unattainable heights, why do you perch on a peak where no falcons nest? "Why do you always pursue the impossible? "What kind of storm do you want to snare? "What imaginary bird do you catch in the air? "Come down and be one of us. "Come down and satisfy your hunger with our bread, and quench your thirst with our wine." Thus they say in the solitude of their souls; But if they had a deeper solitude, they would know that I seek only the secrets of your joys and sorrows, All I capture is your larger selves flying through the air. But the hunter is also the prey; Because my many arrows are only to find my own chest. The flyer is also the crawler; For when my wings stretch out in the sun, the shadow cast on the ground is the turtle. And I, a believer, am a doubter; Because I used to touch my own wounds with my fingers, so I will trust and understand you more. With this trust and understanding, I say, You are not bound by a body, nor imprisoned by houses or boundaries. Your true self lives on the top of a high mountain and travels with the wind. It is not an animal that rises to seek warmth and burrows for safety, It is a spirit that is free, tolerant of the world, and soaring in the air. If the words are ambiguous, don't try to clarify them. Kneeling represents the beginning of everything, not the end. And I would like you to remember me as a beginning. Life, and indeed all living beings, are conceived in the mist, not in the crystal. But who knew that the crystal was but a fog of decay? I want you to remember me when you remember: Those of you who seem the weakest and most bewildered are the strongest and most persistent. Is it not your breath that supports your frame and makes it strong? Wasn't it a dream that none of you remember built your castles and made everything in them? If you had seen the breath-breathing tide, you would have been blind to all else; If you had heard the whisper in the dream, you would have been deaf to all other sounds. But you neither see nor listen, and that's fine. For the veil that covers your eyes shall be raised by the hands that wove it, The mud that clogs your ear canals will be pierced by the fingers that knead it. Thus you will see, You will hear. But you should not regret that you have been blind or deaf. For in those days you will know the hidden purpose of all things, Thereby bless the darkness as much as the light. After saying these words, he looked around and saw the helmsman of his ship standing by the helm, staring at the full sail, and then looking into the distance. He then said: Waiting patiently, my captain is still waiting patiently. The wind has risen, the sails are restless; Even the anchor begs to set sail; But still my captain awaits my silence. My sailors, who have heard Fahai's grander choruses, listen patiently to me. Now they don't have to wait any longer. I am ready. The stream has run into the sea, and the great mother has once again taken her son in her arms. Farewell, people of Orphalias! The day is over. It closes on our hearts like a lotus closes its own tomorrow. We shall preserve all that is given to us here, If not, then we must meet again and together extend our arms to the Giver. Don't forget, I will come back to you. In a little while, my wish will gather motes and foam for another body. A little while, a little thought in the wind, and another woman will conceive me. Farewell, you!Farewell, my youth among you! Just yesterday we met in a dream. You sing to me in my solitude, and I build a castle in the air for your longing. And now, our sleep has escaped, our dreams are over, and it is not dawn. The day is gone, our chaos has reached its full day, and we must part. If we meet again in the strands of memory, we will talk, and you will sing a more affectionate song for me. If our hands meet in another dream, we'll build another castle in the air. While speaking, he motioned to the sailors, and they immediately pulled anchor and set sail, left the berth, and headed east. The cry rose from the crowd as if bursting from the same heart, and merged into the twilight, like a trumpet whine, echoing on the sea. Only Elmetra remained silent, following the ship until it disappeared into the mist. When all the people dispersed, she was still standing alone on the seawall, reminiscing about his words in her heart, "In a little while, a little thought in the wind, and another woman will conceive me."