Халиль Джебран - Плач поля - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

At dawn, even before the sun flashed through the curtain of the dawn, I sat in the middle of the field, talking with nature. At this hour, fulfilled by pure beauty, while a person is hidden by the widespreads of the Drezhas and he is visited by a dream and a reality, I, leaning on a soft pillow of herbs, at everything I saw, asked me to explain to me the truth of beauty and forced me to talk about the beauty of truth.

When my imagination separated me from everything vain, and my fantasy removed the cover of matter from my hidden essence, I felt how my spirit, uplifting, brought me closer to nature, revealing me its deep secrets, making it clear to the language of its creatures.

And at this time a breeze ran in the branches - sighed like a burning orphan. I asked, not understanding: "Why are you sighing, a delicate breeze?" He replied: “Because I, persecuted by the warmth of the sun, go to the city, where microbes of diseases, where people's poisonous breathing will be attached to my pure robes. Because I'm sad. "

Then I turned to the flowers and saw how they exude tears from my eyes - a drop of dew. I asked: "Why cry, beautiful flowers?" One flower raised his delicate head and said: “We cry because a person will come, cut us down and leave with us to the city. There he will sell us like slaves, although we are free, and when the evening comes and we will be allotted, he will throw it off with garbage. How can we not cry if the cruel hand of a person separates us from our homeland - a field! ”

A minute later, I heard that the brook was sobbing like an orphan mother, and asked him: "Why are you sobbing, a sweet stream?" He replied: “Because I am going against the will of the city where a person despises my moisture, replacing it with a squeezing of the vine, and makes him serve him, taking his dirt. How can I not sob when my transparency is soon burdened by the forty, and my cleanliness will be muddied? ”

Then I listened and heard the birds sang a sad song similar to crying. I asked them: "Why are you crying, beautiful birds?" Sparrow flew up to me and sat down on the tip of the branch, and then said: “The son of Adam will come and bring his hellish weapon, which destroys us, as a sickle runs sowing. We now say goodbye to each other, because we do not know which of us will be saved from the appointed fate. How not to cry when death follows us, wherever we go? "

The sun rose above the mountain and crowned the heads of trees with golden crowns, and I asked myself: "Why does a person destroy what nature creates?"