Analysis of The Coming of the Ship

Khalil Gibran 1883 (Bsharri) – 1931 (New York City)



Almustafa, the chosen and the beloved, who was a dawn onto his own day, had waited twelve years in the city of Orphalese for his ship that was to return and bear him back to the isle of his birth.

And in the twelfth year, on the seventh day of Ielool, the month of reaping, he climbed the hill without the city walls and looked seaward; and he beheld the ship coming with the mist.

Then the gates of his heart were flung open, and his joy flew far over the sea. And he closed his eyes and prayed in the silences of his soul.

But he descended the hill, a sadness came upon him, and he thought in his heart: How shall I go in peace and without sorrow? Nay, not without a wound in the spirit shall I leave this city.

Long were the days of pain I have spent within its walls, and long were the nights of aloneness; and who can depart from his pain and his aloneness without regret?

Too many fragments of the spirit have I scatterd in these streets, and too many are the children of my longing that walk naked among these hills, and I cannot withdraw from them without a bruden and an ache.

It is not a garment I cast off this day, but a skin that I tear with my own hands.

Nor is it a thought I leave behind me, but a heart made sweet with hunger and with thirst.

Yet I cannot tarry longer.

The sea that calls all things unto her calls me, and I must embark.

For to stay, though the hours burn in the night, is to freeze and crystallize and be bound in a mould.

Fain would I take with me all that is here. But how shall I?

A voice cannot carry the tongue and the lips that give it wings. Alone must it seek the ether.

And alone and without his nest shall the eagle fly across the sun.

Now when he reached the foot of the hill, he turned again towards the sea, and he saw his ship approaching the harbour, and upon her prow the mariners, the men of his own land.

And his soul cried out to them, and he said:

Sons of my ancient mother, you riders of the tides, How often have you sailed in my dreams. And now you come in my awakening, which is my deeper dream.

Ready am I to go, and my eagerness with sails full set awaits the wind.

Only another breath will I breathe in this still air, only another loving look cast backward,
Then I shall stand among you, a seafarer among seafarers.
And you, vast sea, sleepless mother,
Who alone are peace and freedom to the river and the stream,
Only another winding will this stream make, only another murmur in this glade,
And then shall I come to you, a boundless drop to a boundless ocean.

And as he walked he saw from afar men and women leaving their fields and their vineyards and hastening towards the city gates.

And he heard their voices calling his name, and shouting from the field to field telling one another of the coming of the ship.

And he said to himself:

Shall the day of parting be the day of gathering?

And shall it be said that my eve was in truth my dawn?

And what shall I give unto him who has left his plough in midfurrow, or to him who has stopped the wheel of his winepress?

Shall my heart become a tree heavy-laden with fruit that I may gather and give unto them?

And shall my desires flow like a fountain that I may fill their cups?

Am I a harp that the hand of the mighty may touch me, or a flute that his breath may pass through me?

A seeker of silences am I, and what treasure have I found in silences that I may dispense with confidence?

If this is my day of harvest, in what fields have I sowed the seed, and in what unrembered seasons?

If this indeed be the our in which I lift up my lantern, it is not my flame that shall burn therein.

Empty and dark shall I raise my lantern,
And the guardian of the night shall fill it with oil and he shall light it also.

These things he said in words. But much in his heart remained unsaid. For he himself could not speak his deeper secret.

And when he entered into the city all the people came to meet him, and they were crying out to him as with one voice.

And the elders of the city stood forth and said:

Go not yet away from us.

A noontide have you been in our twilight, and your youth has given us dreams to dream.

No stranger are you among us, nor a guest, but our son and our dearly beloved.

Suffer not yet our eyes to hunger for your face.

And the priests and the priestesses said unto him:

Let not the waves of the sea separate us now, and the years you have spent in our midst become a memory.

You have walked among us a spirit, and your shadow has been a


Scheme X X X A X X B X C X X X C D X E F X XXCFXD X X X X X B X X A X X X XX X X E X F X X X A X
Poetic Form
Metre 1010000111011011111011001011111111010111101111 00011101011101110110101010101100110110101 1011110110011111001011110100100111 11010010101011011011111101001101101010010111110 10011111101110100111011011110110101 11010101011101101101010111011100111011001110101011 111010111111011111111 111011101110111110011 11101010 0111111001101101 11110101001111010011001 11111111111111 01101001001111101111010 00100111101010101 1111011011101010101111010010001010100011111 0111111011 11110101101011101110110111010100111101 1011110110011110101 100101111011110010101110 11110110100110 01111010 101110101010001 100101011111001010011 01111110101101010 0111111011010101101100100010101 0111101011010101111010101010101 011101 1011101011100 0111111110111 01111101111110111111101111 11101011010111111001101 01101011010111111 110110110101111011111111 01011001101101110100111011100 1111111001111101001110 11011010011111101111111101 1001111110 00100101111110111110 111101110110101110111111010 011100101010101111010101111111 001010101101 1110111 0111101010111101111 1101101110111010101001 1011101110111 0010011101 110110110110011110101010100 111011010011110
Characters 4,460
Words 890
Sentences 46
Stanzas 42
Stanza Lengths 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 6, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1
Lines Amount 48
Letters per line (avg) 72
Words per line (avg) 19
Letters per stanza (avg) 83
Words per stanza (avg) 21
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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on March 05, 2023

4:27 min read
194

Khalil Gibran

Khalil Gibran was a Lebanese artist, poet, and writer. more…

All Khalil Gibran poems | Khalil Gibran Books

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