The Madman: His Parables and Poems
Public-domain ebook
The Madman: His Parables and Poems
Language: en1,097 downloads on Project Gutenberg
Subjects
In: Poetry·Essays, Letters & Speeches
Public-domain ebook sourced from Project Gutenberg #5616.
About this book
The work is a collection of short, allegorical pieces that blend parable, poem, and mystical meditation. It opens with a vivid, almost theatrical scene in a marketplace where a youth declares the narrator a madman, prompting a cascade of lyrical reflections on masks, freedom, and the silence of the divine. From that moment the text moves through a series of self‑contained episodes, conversations with a scarecrow, a wise dog, hermits sharing a bowl, and a series of inner “selves” that argue over the fate of a single madman, each piece offering a compact moral or philosophical vignette framed in symbolic language.
Written in the lyrical, aphoristic style characteristic of early twentieth‑century mystic poetry, the voice is both intimate and prophetic, employing rich, biblical imagery and a rhythm that echoes oral storytelling. Readers who enjoy contemplative, metaphor‑laden prose, especially those drawn to spiritual allegory, Sufi‑inspired thought, or the poetic experiments of Kahlil Gibran, will find the book’s blend of paradox and insight rewarding.
The opening · free to read
My Friend
My friend, I am not what I seem. Seeming is but a garment I wear--a care-woven garment that protects me from thy questionings and thee from my negligence.
The "I" in me, my friend, dwells in the house of silence, and therein it shall remain for ever more, unperceived, unapproachable.
I would not have thee believe in what I say nor trust in what I do--for my words are naught but thy own thoughts in sound and my deeds thy own hopes in action.
When thou sayest, "The wind bloweth eastward," I say, "Aye it doth blow eastward"; for I would not have thee know that my mind doth not dwell upon the wind but upon the sea.
Thou canst not understand my seafaring thoughts, nor would I have thee understand. I would be at sea alone.
When it is day with thee, my friend, it is night with me; yet even then I speak of the noontide that dances upon the hills and of the purple shadow that steals its way across the valley; for thou canst not hear the songs of my darkness nor see my wings beating against the stars--and I fain would not have thee hear or see. I would be with night alone.
When thou ascendest to thy Heaven I descend to my Hell--even then thou callest to me across the unbridgeable gulf, "My companion, my comrade," and I call back to thee, "My comrade, my companion"--for I would not have thee see my Hell. The flame would burn thy eyesight and the smoke would crowd thy nostrils. And I love my Hell too well to have thee visit it. I would be in Hell alone.
Thou lovest Truth and Beauty and Righteousness; and I for thy sake say it is well and seemly to love these things. But in my heart I laught at thy love. Yet I would not have thee see my laughter. I would laugh alone.
My friend, thou art good and cautious and wise; nay, thou art perfect--and I, too, speak with thee wisely and cautiously. And yet I am mad. But I mask my madness. I would be mad alone.
My friend, thou art not my friend, but how shall I make thee understand? My path is not thy path, yet together we walk, hand in hand.
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