Poetry

It has been ages since I read any poetry. I cannot remember most poems I studied at school, except for a few that are etched in my mind.

One is Shelley's Ozymandias, where the pedestal of that colossal wreck proclaims: "Look upon my works, ye Mighty, and despair." Another is Shakespeare's Julius Caesar (much of the Bard's plays is blank verse), taught to us wonderfully by Mrs Rani Chandran. It is after Brutus justifies Caesar's assassination to the people, when someone in the mob cries, "Let him be Caesar!"

Now, thanks to my uncle here, I started Kahlil Gibran's The Prophet. And I am hooked...

Excerpts from "On Giving:"

You often say, "I would give, but only to the deserving."
The trees in your orchard say not so, nor the flocks in your pasture.
They give that they may live, for to withhold is to perish.

And you receivers - and you are all receivers - assume no weight of gratitude, lest you lay a yoke upon yourself and upon him who gives.
Rather rise together with the giver on his gifts as on wings;
For to be overmindful of your debt, is to doubt his generosity who has the free-hearted earth for mother, and God for father.