My silence is singing Gibran
My silence is singing, my hunger is indigestion.
I drank enough water when I was thirsty, but I was drunk when I was sober.
I have joy when I am depressed, and I have reunion when I am homeless.
In concealment I have revelation, and in revelation I have concealment.
How depressed and troubled I am, but my heart is proud of my depression.
How many times have I cried with grief, but there is a smile on my lips.
I miss a certain friend infinitely, and he is by my side.
Something makes me think about it day and night. This thing is already in my hands.
The night may spread hope onto the carpet woven by dreams,
The light of dawn rolls it up again.
Looking at me with the mirror of my soul, I found that thinking imprisons the soul.
On my body, there are traces of the person who gave birth to me and gave me a future.
In me, there is death and the grave, resurrection and life.
If I had not been born, I would never have died.
Without the driving force of my soul, I would not go to the grave.
I ask the soul: Who controls the destiny we hope for?
The soul answered: It’s me.