Mikhail Naimy, also spelled Mikha'il Na'ima

Mikhail
Naimy, also spelled Mikha'il Na'ima
1889
1988

Lebanese Author and Poet of the New York Pen League

Author Quotes

The sea is but an earth-held drop, yet does it belt and cap the earth. How much more infinite a sea is man? Be not so childish as to measure him from head to foot and think that you have found his borders.

Your breath upon the wind shall surely lodge within some breast. Ask not whose breast it is. See only that the breath itself be pure.

Love is not a virtue. Love is a necessity; more so than bread and water; more so than light and air. Let no one pride himself on loving. But rather breathe in Love and breathe it out just as unconsciously and freely as you breathe in the air and breathe it out. For Love needs no one to exalt it. Love will exalt the heart that it finds worthy of itself. Seek no rewards for Love. Love is reward sufficient unto Love, as Hate is punishment sufficient unto Hate. Nor keep any accounts with Love. For Love accounts to no one but itself. Love neither lends nor borrows; Love neither buys nor sells; but when it gives, it gives its all; and when it takes, it takes its all. Its very taking is a giving. Its very giving is a taking. Therefore is it the same to-day, tomorrow and forevermore.

You are the Tree of Life. Your roots are everywhere. Your boughs and leaves are everywhere. Your fruits are in every mouth. Whatever be the fruits upon that tree; whatever be its boughs and leaves; whatever be the roots; they are your fruits; they are your leaves and boughs; they are your roots. If you would have the tree bear sweet and fragrant fruit, if you would have it ever strong and green, see to the sap wherewith you feed the roots. Love is the Sap of Life. While Hatred is the pus of Death. But Love, like blood, must circulate unhindered in the veins. Repress the blood, and it becomes a menace and a plague. And what is Hate but Love repressed, or Love withheld, therefore becoming such a deadly poison both to the feeder and the fed; both to the hater and to that he hates. A yellow leaf upon your tree of life is but a Love-weaned leaf, Blame not the yellow leaf. A withered bough is but a Love-starved bough. Blame not the withered bough. A putrid fruit is but a Hatred-suckled fruit. Blame not the putrid fruit. But rather blame your blind and stingy heart that would dole out the sap of life to few and would deny it to many, thereby denying it to itself. No love is possible except by the love of self. No self is real save the All-embracing Self.

I further say to you that ugliness is Beauty's palette, paint and brush; and that the dwarf would not have been a dwarf had he not given of his stature to the giant. You are the tree of Life. Beware of fractioning yourselves. Set not a fruit against a fruit, a leaf against a leaf, a bough against a bough; nor set the stem against the roots; nor set the tree against the mother- soil. That is precisely what you do when you love one part more than the rest, or to the exclusion of the rest.

Love is the law of God. You live that you may learn to love. You love that you may learn to live. No other lesson is required of Man. And what is to love but for the lover to absorb forever the beloved so that the twain be one? And whom, or what, is one to love? Is one to choose a certain leaf upon the Tree of Life and pour upon it all one's heart? What of the branch that bears the leaf? What of the stem that holds the branch? What of the bark that shields the stem? What of the roots that feed the bark, the stem, the branches and the leaves? What of the soil embosoming the roots? What of the Sun,and sea, and air that fertilize the soil? If one small leaf upon a tree be worthy of your love how much more so the entire tree in its entirety? The love that singles out a fraction of the whole foredooms itself to grief. You say But there be leaves and leaves upon a single tree. Some are healthy, some are sick; some are beautiful, some, ugly; some are giants , some are dwarfs. How can we help but pick and choose. I say to you, Out of the paleness of the sick proceeds the freshness of the healthy.

So, think as if your every thought were to be etched in fire across the sky for all and everything to see.
For so, in truth, it is.
So speak as if the world entire were but a single ear intent on hearing what you say.
And so, in truth, it is.
Do as if your every deed were to recoil upon your heads.
And, so in truth it does.So wish as if you were the wish.
And so, in truth, you are.
So live as if your God Himself had need of you his life to live.
And so, in truth, he does.

How much more infinite a sea is man? Be not so childish as to measure him from head to foot and think you have found his borders.

Logic is immaturity weaving its nets of gossamer wherewith it aims to catch the behemoth of knowledge. Logic is a crutch for the cripple, but a burden for the swift of foot and a greater burden still for the wise.

Ask not of things to shed their veils. Unveil yourselves, and things will be unveiled.

Often you shall think your road impassable, sombre and companionless. Have will and plod along; and round each curve you shall find a new companion.

Whoever cannot find a temple in his heart, the same can never find his heart in any temple.

Author Picture
First Name
Mikhail
Last Name
Naimy, also spelled Mikha'il Na'ima
Birth Date
1889
Death Date
1988
Bio

Lebanese Author and Poet of the New York Pen League