The Scarecrow
Once I said to a scarecrow, You must be tired of standing in this / lonely field.
Said A Sheet Of Snow-White Paper
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Said a sheet of snow-white paper, Pure was I created, and pure will I remain for ever. I would rather be burnt and turn to white ashes than suffer darkness to touch me or the unclean to come near me.
The ink-bottle heard what the paper was saying, and it laughed in its dark heart; but it never dared to approach her. And the multicoloured pencils heard her also, and they too never came near her.
And the snow-white sheet of paper did remain pure and chaste for ever, pure and chaste -- and empty.
More poems by Khalil Gibran
Pain
And a woman spoke, saying, Tell us of Pain. / And he said:
Joy and Sorrow
Then a woman said, Speak to us of Joy and Sorrow. / And he answered:
Talking
And then a scholar said, Speak of Talking. / And he answered, saying: