The Secrets of the Heart
Language: English
Pages: 212
ISBN: 1480443808
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
* We are the sons of Sorrow, and you are the Sons of Joy; and between our sorrow and your Joy there is a rough and narrow path which Your spirited horses cannot travel, and upon Which your magnificent carriages cannot pass. We pity your smallness as you hate our Greatness; and between our pity and your Hatred, Time halts bewildered. We come to You as friends, but you attack us as enemies; And between our friendship and your enmity, There is a deep ravine flowing with tears And blood.
sincere prayer that came from the depths of their broken hearts. The authority of those dignitaries and leaders was like the ever-green leaves of the poplar trees, and the life of those fellahin was like a boat whose pilot had met his destiny and whose rudder had been lost and whose sails had been torn by the strong wind and left at the mercy of the furious depths and the raging tempest. Tyranny and blind submission … which one of these gave birth to the other? Is tyranny a strong tree that
love her and that I wronged her by taking her in empty marriage. Tell her that my heart bled in burning pain each time I turned from restless sleep in the silence of the night and observed her kneeling before the shrine of Jesus, weeping and beating upon her bosom in anguish. “There is no punishment so severe as that suffered by the woman who finds herself imprisoned between a man she loves and another man who loves her. Susan suffered through a constant and painful conflict, but performed
for my bins boast only These parchments upon which the black Ink is traced, and these paintings, Upon which appear simple lines and colours. With these papers and pictures I have Succeeded only in shrouding and burying My love and my thoughts and my dreams, Even as the sower buries the seeds in The heart of the earth. But when the sower sows the seeds in The heart of the earth he returns home At eventide, hoping and waiting for The day of harvest; but I have sown The inner seeds of
softness. He withdrew to his feet sharply, and exclaimed, “Who are you?” With a fainting voice, the dying man said, “Fear me not, Father, for we have been strong friends for long. Help me to stand, and take me to the nearby streamlet and cleanse my wounds with your linens.” And the Father inquired, “Tell me who you are, for I do not know you, nor even remember having seen you.” And the man replied with an agonizing voice, “You know my identity! You have seen me one thousand times and you speak