The Prophet Page #2

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Chatting?

Yes, we were sailing

on the wings of the wind.

Mmm.

That reminds me, last night

I had the sweetest dream.

I dreamt of a ship

sailing into the harbor,

coming to take me back to my homeland.

Hmm.

Halim, you haven't today,

by any chance, seen a ship?

No,

but to tell you the truth,

I wasn't looking.

Mmm! Mmm!

- Almitra, get down from there!

- Ahhh!

Ooh!

Oh! Mustafa, I'm so sorry!

I mean, Almitra is sorry.

Oh! Here, let me...

You do it.

That must hurt so much.

No, no, no. I'm fine. I'm fine, really.

Oh, no, no, no. Look at your painting.

It's completely ruined.

No, no. Not at all.

In fact, it's improved.

No, no, Mustafa, you cannot mean that.

I do, I do!

But it's so ugly. Look at it!

Now, now, now.

I don't know what to do.

- Come and sit down. Here.

- I've tried everything!

Nothing I do or say gets through to her.

She's just completely beyond my control.

Well, of course, she is.

What?

She doesn't belong to you.

She doesn't?

Oh, no, no, no, no, no, Mustafa.

I remember clearly that it was me

who brought her into this world.

Yes, yes, that's true.

She came through you, but not from you.

"Your children are not your children

"They are the sons and daughters

Of Life's longing for itself"

Your children are not your children

They're the sons and daughters of

Life's longing for itself

They come through you

But not from you

Though they're with you,

they belong to themselves

You may give them your love,

but not your thoughts

For they have thoughts of their own

You may house their bodies,

not their souls

For their souls

dwell in a house of tomorrow

Which you cannot visit,

not even in your dreams

You may strive

To be like them

But seek not to make them like you

For life goes not backward

Nor tarries with yesterday

You are the bows from which your children

As living arrows are sent forth

The archer sees the mark

upon the path of the infinite

And He bends you with His might

That His arrows may go swift and far

Let your bending in the archer's hand

be for gladness

For even as he loves the arrow that flies

He loves the bow that is stable

Let your bending in the archer's hand

be for gladness

For even as he loves the arrow that flies

He loves the bow that is stable

"For even as he loves the arrow that flies

"So He loves also the bow that is stable"

- Halim!

- Ow! Ohh!

Sergeant, to what do I owe this honor?

I've come to inform you that you

are released from your confinement.

What? Released?

But we should throw a party, with music.

Released, released.

Mustafa!

You are released on the condition

that you return to your own country

and never again set foot on Orphalese.

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