By Kahlil Gibran
via the Poetry Foundation
Once, as I was burying one of my dead selves, the grave-digger came by and said to me, “Of all those who come here to bury, you alone I like.”
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Said I, “You please me exceedingly, but why do you like me?”
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“Because,” said he, “They come weeping and go weeping—you only come laughing and go laughing.”
A Note from the Editor
Lebanese poet and painter Khalil Gibran died on this day in 1931.
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