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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=430889" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Work chapter VII</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then a ploughman said, &quot;Speak to us of Work.&quot; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And he answered, saying: </div><div style="margin:10px 0">You work that you may keep pace with the earth and the soul of the earth. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">For to be idle is to become a stranger unto the seasons, and to step out of life's procession, that marches in majesty and proud submission towards the infinite. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">When you work you are a flute through whose heart the whispering of the hours turns to music. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Which of you would be a reed, dumb and silent, when all else sings together in unison? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Always you have been told that work is a curse and labour a misfortune. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But I say to you that when you work you fulfil a part of earth's furthest dream, assigned to you when that dream was born, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And in keeping yourself with labour you are in truth loving life, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And to love life through labour is to be intimate with life's inmost secret. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But if you in your pain call birth an affliction and the support of the flesh a curse written upon your brow, then I answer that naught but the sweat of your brow shall wash away that which is written. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">You have been told also life is darkness, and in your weariness you echo what was said by the weary. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And I say that life is indeed darkness save when there is urge, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And all urge is blind save when there is knowledge, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And all knowledge is vain save when there is work, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And all work is empty save when there is love; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And when you work with love you bind yourself to yourself, and to one another, and to God. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And what is it to work with love? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">It is to weave the cloth with threads drawn from your heart, even as if your beloved were to wear that cloth. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">It is to build a house with affection, even as if your beloved were to dwell in that house. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">It is to sow seeds with tenderness and reap the harvest with joy, even as if your beloved were to eat the fruit. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">It is to charge all things you fashion with a breath of your own spirit, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And to know that all the blessed dead are standing about you and watching. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Often have I heard you say, as if speaking in sleep, &quot;he who works in marble, and finds the shape of his own soul in the stone, is a nobler than he who ploughs the soil. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And he who seizes the rainbow to lay it on a cloth in the likeness of man, is more than he who makes the sandals for our feet.&quot; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But I say, not in sleep but in the over-wakefulness of noontide, that the wind speaks not more sweetly to the giant oaks than to the least of all the blades of grass; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And he alone is great who turns the voice of the wind into a song made sweeter by his own loving. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Work is love made visible. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And if you cannot work with love but only with distaste, it is better that you should leave your work and sit at the gate of the temple and take alms of those who work with joy. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">For if you bake bread with indifference, you bake a bitter bread that feeds but half man's hunger. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And if you grudge the crushing of the grapes, your grudge distills a poison in the wine. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And if you sing though as angels, and love not the singing, you muffle man's ears to the voices of the day and the voices of the night.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Khalil+Gibran">Khalil Gibran</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=430889" data-title="Work chapter VII de Khalil Gibran" data-description="Then a ploughman said, &quot;Speak to us of Work.&quot; 

And he answered, saying: 

You work that you may keep pace with the earth and the soul of the earth. 

For to be idle is to become a stranger unto the seasons, and to step out of life's pro..."></div>
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