Sample

The Secret of the Cane Basket
A story selected from the anthology entitled,
published as one of a series of volumes entitled
Strange Stories & Wonderful Tales (Vol. 1, p.20)

    In the quiet stillness of the night, a cane basket lay on the top of an old closet, next to a porcelain vase. The closet heard the basket and the vase engaging in a strange intimate dialogue!

    Why are they whispering in the calm of night? Can a basket, a porcelain vase, and an oak closet be animated with life?

    How can they communicate with each other?

    A spirit can blow anywhere it likes.

    It can reside in any of them. Can a soul dwell in a body of flesh and bones, and yet find it impossible to dwell in bamboo, or oak, or porcelain?

    No!

    The cane basket said:

    - So many memories of the remote past have been revived within me!

    I knew the Prophet Moses, before his birth. His pure spirit, before incarnating inside his body in this world of others, was singing in praise of the Lord in the spiritual world. As for me, I was an angel standing by this great Prophet, and glorifying the Creator. Then the hour came when I had to support him in his message on Earth.

    I knelt to the Creative Being, The Maker of heaven and earth, so full of rejoicing as I fulfilled my task, which was for my spirit to penetrate into a cluster of sugar-cane growing along the banks of the Nile. I soon undertook my duty.

    All of a sudden, Moses’ mother was inspired to cut off the sugar cane and work hard to knit it into a basket with unusual energy and speed.

    She promptly completed the basket, which was the only means of rescue that she wielded vis-à-vis the Pharaoh’s command: "The male children of the Hebrews must all perish on the land of Egypt".

    Tears were overflowing from the eyes of the mother, drenching the rescue cradle that was to carry Moses.

    The cane basket resumed:

    The child was placed in the primitive cane boat, and was pushed across the waves of the river, guarded by my spirit, which blew it forward whenever necessary. Pleasant breezes blew around it, guiding the boat of hope towards the Egyptian princess.

    My spirit aroused tenderness and pity in the heart of the princess, and counseled her to rescue the child, and bring him up herself in her own palace. The child was extremely good-looking so that his exquisite beauty turned her head. No, he will not die. She will rescue and adopt him. The history of this period in the Holy Book narrates the events of the story as follows:

    Moses’ sister, Mary, stood observing the scene: she was hiding behind a curtain of trees, but nothing escaped her. A royal procession approached the riverbank…

    As for the place where the boy’s original home was, his mother sat there weeping, and cursing the disastrous fate of her people. She trembled with fear, and waited…

    As the ladies-in-waiting and the servants were occupied with the Pharaoh’s daughter, attending to her as she bathed in the river, the princess caught sight of the basket dancing with the waves, under the rays of the sun. At her command, the servants hurried to the basked cradle, and carried it to her. It was an exciting discovery: a handsome baby smiling at every one, so that they passed him on from one person to the other, fondling him gently. The Pharaoh’s daughter decided to take him, but she had to provide for his food and upbringing. She was in a dilemma: what could she do?

    The curtain of trees where Mary was hiding began to move in a strange manner, and a frightened and shy girl emerged from behind it, trying to flee from the face of the gathered people.

    The servants followed her and overtook her, and brought her before the princess, who questioned her. The girl denied that she knew anything about the infant or the cradle. She was asked to look for a wet-nurse among the Hebrews. Moses’ sister found this an excellent opportunity to bring her mother to the princess as a nurse for the boy. The Pharaoh’s daughter was full of admiration for her, gave her some advice, and promised to grant her wages in reward for her looking after the boy.

The cane basket got tired of talking, but the porcelain vase wasn’t feeling sleepy yet.

    - Please, carry on, she said.

    The basked resumed its story, saying:

    - Time elapses quickly, but Egypt and the Nile will live to eternity. AS for the sugar-cane bushes, they are still alive to this day, and the banks of the Nile are as yet crowded with clusters of them through a sayyal, a breath of my spirit, a breath that is sustained by old memories.

    The basket, which stood on the closet, had not forgotten the ancient past: it paused for a while, and held its breath.

    A strange incident occurred that evening: the arrival of an unusual person awakened in its spirit unexpected memories! It felt a shiver run through its body, a kind of inner trembling!

    A strange thought struck the basket, which it was about to reveal:

    - Could it be that Moses has returned to Earth? What is the opinion of the porcelain vase and the oak closet?

At this moment, a sudden movement shook the room: someone ascended a ladder with speed and energy. Gently and gracefully, his hand stretched out to the top of the closet, took hold of the cane basket, and hushed it up, so that it stopped talking. It became silent, and its secret remained hidden!

But a ray of lightening flashed across the whitewashed walls in a zigzagging patter, and night fell!

Beirut, December 30, 1944

I Will Write Your Name
Dedicated to Voota
A poem selected from the book Winged Poems,
published as one of a series of volumes entitled
Gardens of the Gods Adorned with Roses of Paradise (p. 59)

I will write your lovely name on the seashore,
For the waves, interlacing and chasing one another,
To kiss it with great eagerness and passion.

* * *

I'll write it on the fresh and tender branches of the trees,
So that the nightingales may perch on these green branches:
For they may then perfect their unusually lovely songs.

* * *

I'll paint it on the wings of the colored and adorned butterflies,
To add to the splendor of those strangely-colored creatures,
So that they may hover around, flitting here and there
And kissing the fragrant flowers of the meadows.

* * *

I'll engrave it on the solid rocks,
So that their iron rigidness may melt in worship,
For your pleasant name will soften mute objects,
Animating them into living creatures,
So that they utter and sing the praises of their Creator.

* * *

When wars break out, bitter hostilities are unleashed,
Like satanic devils:
With the bullets of their guns, and the steel of their terrifying tanks
They harvest thousands of youths in the infernal war arena;
But as soon as the enemies at war see your divine name,
The whizz and whistle of the volcanic machine-guns is silenced
And the sound of the earth-shaking bombs is struck dumb,
And the hitherto hostile bands, extend and join in greeting,
So that peace prevails, and anxious minds begin to rest.

* * *

I'll paint it across the wide expanses of space
So that the rain falls in torrents reviving plants and animals,
It will bring abundance, and the poor will rejoice,
When their crops flourish, and their minds are at rest.

* * *

With your name, I will ornament the pollen of the flowers,
So that their buds may open up and blossom,
And the scent they release may spread and increase,
The roses will smile, and the jasmine will laugh,
The violets will bow, and the chamomile will dance,
Rejoicing at the sound of your strange exquisite name.

* * *

I will etch your name on the horns of the mountain goats
And the brows of the gazelles,
So they may break loose into the virgin forests,
Their hearts full of joy,
Boasting and raising their heads high in pride,
Because of the beauty of your much desired name.

* * *

I will embellish with your name the doors of the sad and sorrowful,
And the windows of widows and the bereaved families,
Transforming their pain into happiness, and their sorrows into joy,
So they may glorify the name of the Maker, and Creator of all creatures.

* * *

I will write it down on the surface of the sea, and across the ocean,
To guide the ships that have lost their way
Back to their haven, safe and sound.

* * *

I will imprint it on the lyre,
To imbue its tunes with magic,
And to inject its rhythm with exquisite splendor.

* * *

I will suspend your name in the vastness of the huge galaxy,
To be seen by billions of stars floating in their orbits since eternity,
To add resplendence to their glitter, and unsurpassed brilliance to their rays.

* * *

I will engrave your beloved name
On the bottom of my heart which passionately overflow with your love;
Your divine love is an integral part of my heart,
And the Guide-star to my soul, directing it to its haven of safety.

* * *

In my last hour, I will write it with my trembling hand,
On my heart which has grown so fond,
So that it may accompany me to the next world to bring me joy,
Just as it had always brought me happiness on this wretched earth,
Oh! I have finally been guided to the right path,
For my heart is in its haven,
Singing in the world of eternity,
Before death falls upon me.

Beirut, 12:30 P.M.
June 18th, 1974

I Will Return

Selected from the book entitled Arrows & Spears (p.42)

                                        I

There, in the remote parts of the clear blue sky,
Behind those pure snow-white clouds,
God created a magic place of magnificent beauty,
That the spirits of the wretched and the sorrowful yearn for,
To this remote and joyful place, I will return.

                                        II

There, behind the transparent clouds,
The lights shine from a radiant glittering star;
Behind this lovely jewel glowing permanently,
God created a fascinating world
Longed for by the bewildered souls seeking peace and rest.
To this place of perpetual light and resplendence, I will return.

                                        III

There, behind the eternal galaxy,
Distances die out, and remoteness perishes.
Those who are ordained to cross beyond it,
Will find a strange paradise that God created for His chosen ones.
To this paradise of infinite bliss and joy, I will return.

                                        IV

There, behind the strange nebulae,
Hazy visions dance and fantasies live.
In these virgin places, pleasant young girls of hope wander freely,
And print with their tender lips fragrant kisses
On the mouths of the worthy and deserving.
To this fascinating home granted by the Providence to the weary, I will return.

                                        V

There, where heavenly flashes of lightening collide,
Where meteors penetrate the confines of forbidden spheres,
And from behind hills of gold, turquoise, coral and chrysolite,
And mountains of precious stones and onyx,
And valleys of cornelian, and plains of emerald and ruby,
The river of Paradise penetrates the city of peace.
To this magic city resting in silence, I will return.

                                        VI

There, for that place that is inaccessible to the mind of man,
The place, which God has prepared for his loved ones,
A place which is inconceivable to man,
And which has not, as yet, been described by a writer's pen,
My heart yearns, and my soul longs.
And to that place, my beloved ones, I will soon return.

The Salibi farm,
Souk El-Gharb, Lebanon
Sunday morning
June 25, 1944

My Word

A part of my heart,
A piece of my soul,
The very essence of my being!
It is my hope, wandering in the desert
Of this tumultuous, grief-fraught life!
It is my longing lost in this world's oasis,
So much pervaded with essences
Of misery and woe!
It is my tears which have sworn to remain
A friend of sorrow and a weeping's ally!
It is my truest sorrows,
Which like to plow this billow'd sea!
It is the words
Of a sad, pained, and miserable youth
Whose afflictions swore a solemn oath
To dog his shadow's steps!
It is the words that will live for ever,
Enfolded in the books,
After its author will be lying down
In the bottom of his faithful grave!

Dr. Dahesh

I Love Books

I love books immensely;
For through them, I can enter the war arenas,
I can traverse terrifying oceans,
I can soar up high in the sky,
Defying the most powerful eagles,
I can penetrate through the strange unusual fog,
From there, I can roam across the horizons,
Traverse vast desert land, and wide barren expanses of sand,
Join noisy boisterous festivals full of joy and ecstasy,
And then witness disasters saturated with misery,
And other things and events with which our globe teems.
All the deeds its inhabitants do,
Whether they are full of vice or virtue.
I see all things and actions of the human race,
Without having to budge from my place.
The books always play this part,
So a great love for them forever fills my heart.

Dr. Dahesh