The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Middle Aged (35-54)Accents
British (General) British (Received Pronunciation - RP, BBC)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
almost stuff are the chosen and the beloved, who was adorn onto his own day, had waited 12 years in the city of, or Feliz for his ship that was to return and bear him back to the isle of his birth. And in the 12th year, on the seventh day of Ia Lu, the month of reaping, he climbed the hill without the city walls and looks seaward, and he beheld his ship coming with the mist. Then the gates of his heart were flung open and his joy flew far over the sea. And he closed his eyes and prayed in the silences of his soul. But as he descended the hill, a sadness came upon him and he thought in his heart, How shall I go in peace and without sorrow? Nay, Not without a wound in the spirit. Shall I leave this city along with the days of pain I have spent within its walls, along with the knights of Aloneness and who can depart from his pain and his aloneness without regret Too many fragments of the spirit have I scattered in these streets and too many other Children of my longing that walk naked among these hills and I cannot withdraw from them without a burden and an ache. It is not a garment I cast off this day, but a skin that I tear with my own hands Nor is it a thought I leave behind me but a heart made sweet with hunger and with thirst. Yet I cannot tarry longer the sea that calls all things unto her calls me on DH I must embark for to stay though the hours burn in the night is to freeze and crystallise and be bound in a mould Vain would I take with me all that is here? But how shall I? A voice cannot carry the tongue and the lips that gave it wings alone Must it seek the ether and alone And without his nest shall the eagle fly across the sun Now, when he reached the foot of the hill, he turned again towards the sea and he saw his ship approaching the harbour. And upon her proud the Mariners the men of his own land and his soul cried out to them and he said, Sons of my ancient mother, You riders of the tides! How often have you sailed in my dreams And now you come in my awakening which is my deeper dream ready and I to go And my eagerness with sails full set awaits the wind Only another breath Will I breathe in this still air Only another loving look cast backward And then I shall stand among you a seafarer among seafarers And you vast sea sleeping mother who alone our peace and freedom to the river and the stream