Халиль Джебран - Поэт - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

I am a stranger in this world.

I am a stranger, and in this alienation - gloomy longing and fierce loneliness, but she always wakes up the thoughts of a wonderful unknown homeland in me and fills my dreams with visions of distant land, which had never previously revealed to my eyes.

I am a stranger among my loved ones and friends; Having met any of them, I ask myself: “Who is it, how do I know him, what law connected me with him, why should I approach him and speak?”

I am a stranger to my soul, and when I hear my own words, the rumor is marveling at my voice. When sometimes I see how my innermost “I” laughs or cries, dares or is afraid, my whole being is amazed at myself, and my spirit is eager to delve into my spirit. But no, I remain in the same obscurity, unrecognized, shredded by the veils of the fog, covered with a veil of silence.

I am alien to my body and whenever I look in the mirror, I capture in my face something that my soul does not feel, and I read in my eyes that the hiding places of the heart does not keep.

I walk along the streets of the city, and the young men chased me shouting: “Look, blind! Let us give him a staff - let him rely on him! " I rush away, but the girls overtake me, grab on the floors of clothes with the words: "He is deaf, like a rock, we will fill his rumor with a passionate and ardent of love!" I break out of their hands, running without looking around, but I come across men who, having surrounded me, say: “He is like a grave, so we will help him to untie his tongue!” In fear, I hasten to leave them, but I meet a crowd of old people in the way, who indicate with trembling fingers and say: “This is a madman who has lost his mind on the pastures of evil spirits!” I am a stranger in this world.

I am a stranger, and although I wandered around the world, I did not find any kind of land and did not meet a single person who would recognize me and heed me.

In the morning, having awakened, I feel like a prisoner in a dark cave, from whose vaults are sarcked, and scorpions crawl in the corners. When I go out into the light, the shadow of my body stretches next, and in front of the shadows of my soul, looking for something outside my understanding, grabbing what I do not need at all. Having turned back in the evening, I go to bed, stuffed with ostrich pen and thorns of the thorns, and strange thoughts take possession of me; Anxious, joyful, painful and sweet desires cover me one after another. And at midnight, coming out of the cleft cave, I am the ghosts of the past times and the spirits of forgotten nations, and we eagerly peer into each other. I ask them, and they answer me with a smile. When I break through to keep them, they disappear, as the smoke is overwhelmed.

I am a stranger in this world.

I am a stranger, and there is not a single person in the world who knew at least a word in the language of my soul.

I walk along the deserted steppe and see streams, running around, overtaking each other, from the depths of the valley to the mountain peak, I see bare trees - a moment, and they dress with herbs, bloom, fruit and drop foliage, their branches fall terrible and turn in the spotted wriggling snakes . I see the birds that they soar into the sky and fly down, sang and pitying plaintively, and suddenly, frozen, spread their wings and turn into naked virgins with her hair loose and slender necks. From under the eyelids, which are harassed by passion, they are inviting at me, their scarlet ones, like a rose, exuding the honey aroma of the mouth smile, they hold out white delicate hands, fragrant Mirra and incense; Then their outlines become unsteady and they disappear like fog, but for a long time the echo of their ridicule is heard over me.

I am a stranger in this world.

I am a poet, I sing with poetry that life writes prose, and I write prose that it compares with poems. That's why I am a stranger and I will be a stranger until fate will recover me and transfer me to my homeland.