The Coming of the Ship

Almustafa, the chosen and thebeloved, who was a dawn unto his ownday, had waited twelve years in the cityof Orphalese for his ship that was toreturn and bear him back to the isle ofhis birth.

And in the twelfth year, on the seventhday of Ielool, the month of reaping, heclimbed the hill without the city wallsand looked seaward; and he beheld hisship coming with the mist.

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

But as he descended the hill, a sadnesscame upon him, and he thought in hisheart:

How shall I go in peace and withoutsorrow? Nay, not without a wound in thespirit shall I leave this city.

Longwere the days of pain I have spentwithin its walls, and long were thenights of aloneness; and who can departfrom his pain and his aloneness withoutregret?

Too many fragments of the spirit have Iscattered in these streets, and too manyare the children of my longing that walknaked among these hills, and I cannotwithdraw from them without a burden andan ache.

It is not a garment I cast off thisday, but a skin that I tear with my ownhands.

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

Yet I cannot tarry longer.

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

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

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

A voice cannot carry the tongue andthe lips that gave it wings. Alonemust it seek the ether.

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

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

And his soul cried out to them, and hesaid:

Sons of my ancient mother, you riders ofthe tides,

How often have you sailed in my dreams.And now you come in my awakening, whichis my deeper dream.

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

Only another breath will I breathe inthis still air, only another loving lookcast backward,

And then I shall stand among you, aseafarer among seafarers.

And you,vast sea, sleepless mother,

Who alone are peace and freedom to theriver and the stream,

Only another winding will this streammake, only another murmur in this glade,

And then shall I come to you, aboundless drop to a boundless ocean.

And as he walked he saw from afar menand women leaving their fields and theirvineyards and hastening towards the citygates.

And he heard their voices calling hisname, and shouting from field to fieldtelling one another of the coming of hisship.

And he said to himself:

Shall the day of parting be the day ofgathering?

And shall it be said that my eve was intruth my dawn?

And what shall I give unto him who hasleft his plough in midfurrow, or tohim who has stopped the wheel of hiswinepress?

Shall my heart become atree heavy-laden with fruit that I maygather and give unto them?

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

Am I a harp that the hand of the mightymay touch me, or a flute that his breathmay pass through me?

A seeker of silences am I, and whattreasure have I found in silences that Imay dispense with confidence?

If this is my day of harvest, in whatfields have I sowed the seed, and inwhat unremembered seasons?

If this indeed be the hour in which Ilift up my lantern, it is not my flamethat shall burn therein.

Empty and dark shall I raise my lantern,

And the guardian of the night shall fillit with oil and he shall light it also.

These things he said in words. But muchin his heart remained unsaid. For hehimself could not speak his deepersecret.

And when he entered into the city allthe people came to meet him, and theywere crying out to him as with onevoice.

And the elders of the city stood forthand said:

Go not yet away from us.

A noontide have you been in ourtwilight, and your youth has given usdreams to dream.

No stranger are you among us, nora guest, but our son and our dearlybeloved.

Suffer not yet our eyes to hunger foryour face.

And the priests and the priestesses saidunto him:

Let not the waves of the sea separate usnow, and the years you have spent in ourmidst become a memory.

You have walked among us a spirit,and your shadow has been a lightupon our faces.

Much have we loved you. But speechlesswas our love, and with veils has it beenveiled.

Yet now it cries aloud unto you, andwould stand revealed before you.

And ever has it been that love knowsnot its own depth until the hour ofseparation.

And others came also and entreated him.But he answered them not. He only benthis head; and those who stood near sawhis tears falling upon his breast.

And he and the people proceeded towardsthe great square before the temple.

And there came out of the sanctuary awoman whose name was Almitra. And shewas a seeress.

And he looked upon her with exceedingtenderness, for it was she who had firstsought and believed in him when he hadbeen but a day in their city.

And she hailed him, saying:

Prophet of God, in quest of theuttermost, long have you searched thedistances for your ship.

And now your ship has come, and you mustneeds go.

Deep is your longing for the land ofyour memories and the dwelling placeof your greater desires; and our lovewould not bind you nor our needs holdyou.

Yet this we ask ere you leave us, thatyou speak to us and give us of yourtruth.

And we will give it unto our children,and they unto their children, and itshall not perish.

In your aloneness you have watched withour days, and in your wakefulness youhave listened to the weeping and thelaughter of our sleep.

Now therefore disclose us to ourselves,and tell us all that has been shownyou of that which is between birth anddeath.

And he answered,

People of Orphalese, of what can Ispeak save of that which is even nowmoving within your souls?