愛華網(wǎng)
On ChildrenKahlil Gibran
Your children are not yourchildren.They are the sons and daughtersof Life's longing for itself.They come through you but notfrom you,And though they are with youyet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love butnot your thoughts,For they have their ownthoughts.You may house their bodies butnot their souls,For their souls dwell in thehouse of tomorrow,which you cannot visit, noteven in your dreams.You may strive to be likethem,but seek not to make them likeyou.For life goes not backward nortarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from whichyour childrenas living arrows are sentforth.The archer sees the mark uponthe path of the infinite,and He bends you with Hismightthat His arrows may go swiftand far.Let your bending in thearcher's hand be for gladness;For even as He loves the arrowthat flies,so He loves also the bow thatis stable.
Marianna, Kahlil's Sister.Painting by Kahlil GibranYour children are not yourchildren.They are the sons and daughtersof Life's longing for itself.They come through you but notfrom you,And though they are with youyet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love butnot your thoughts,For they have their ownthoughts.You may house their bodies butnot their souls,For their souls dwell in thehouse of tomorrow,which you cannot visit, noteven in your dreams.You may strive to be likethem,but seek not to make them likeyou.For life goes not backward nortarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from whichyour childrenas living arrows are sentforth.The archer sees the mark uponthe path of the infinite,and He bends you with Hismightthat His arrows may go swiftand far.Let your bending in thearcher's hand be for gladness;For even as He loves the arrowthat flies,so He loves also the bow thatis stable.
