Books By Language. Books in Spanish. By author Mikhail Naimy. Expected delivery to Germany in business days. Not ordering to Germany? Click here. Description The Book of Mirdad, the timeless allegorical story which has touched the hearts of so many readers, continues to show new generations how it is possible to expand one's consciousness, to uncover God in man by dissolving man's sense of duality.
Mikhail Naimy, in a similar style to Gibran, unravels one layer after another, showing that the words of his message have descended from some mysterious source. The book is essentially a set of question and answer between Mirdad and his disciples, especially his chief disciple, Naronda.
These dialogues occurred during the time he was admitted as a servant in the monastery of Altar Peak, built where Noah's Ark came to rest after the flood waters subsided. Mirdad's teachings cover all the important life issues such as love, the master-servant relationship, creative silence, money, the moneylender and the debtor, the cycle of time and death, repentance, old age, and so on. The culmination, and indeed the message, is that Mirdad's own Ark is the Ark of Holy Understanding, which will bring humankind through another deluge, greater than Noah's, when Heaven will be revealed on Earth.
For a long space I could hear the crashing of the flint and the bleating of the goats mixed with the wailing of the flute. Having entirely forgotten my hunger, I began to rebuild what the goatherd had destroyed of my energy and determination.
If night were to find me in that dismal mass of flowing flint, I must seek me a place where I could stretch my tired bones without fear of rolling down the Slope. So I resumed my crawling. Looking down the mountain I could hardly believe that I had risen so high.
The lower end of the Slope was no longer in sight. While the summit seemed almost within reach. By nightfall I came to a group of rocks forming a kind of grotto. Although the grotto overhung an abyss whose bottom heaved with dreary, dark shadows, I decided to make it my lodging for the night. My footgear was in shreds and heavily stained with blood. As I attempted to remove it I found that my skin had clung to it tightly, as if glued.
The palms of my hands were covered with red furrows. The nails were like the edge of a bark torn off a dead tree. My clothes had donated their better parts to the sharp flints.
My head was swelling with sleep. It seemed to contain no thought of anything else. How long I had been asleep - a moment, an hour, or an eternity, I do not know. But I awakened feeling some force pulling at my sleeve. Sitting up, startled and sleep-dazed, I beheld a young maiden standing in front of me with a dim lighted lantern in hand.
She was entirely naked and most delicately beauteous of face and form. Pulling at my jacket sleeve was an old woman as ugly as the maiden was beautiful. A cold shiver shook me from head to foot. In vain I called upon my will. It seemed to have deserted me. But I could not even wish, nor did I have the power to blow. Not content with the jacket alone, the woman proceeded to undress me further until I was entirely naked.
As she undressed me she would hand each garment to the maiden who would put it on herself. The shadow of my naked body thrown against the wall of the grotto, together with the two women's tattered shadows, filled me with fright and disgust.
I watched without understanding, and stood speechless when speech was most urgent and the only weapon left me in my unsavory state. At last my tongue was loosened, and I said: 'If you have lost all shame, old woman, I have not.
I am ashamed of my nakedness even before a shameless witch like you. But infinitely more ashamed am I before the maiden's innocence. Perhaps to keep her warm. The poor child's teeth are chattering with cold.
Have you no mercy in your heart? My clothes are all my possessions in this world. More possessing - more possessed. More possessed - less assessed. Less possessed - more assessed. Lei us be off, my child. A dark chilly wave rushed at me I know not whence. Still darker and more chilly waves followed. The very walls of the grotto seemed to be breathing frost.
My teeth chattered, and with them my already muddled thoughts: The goats pasturing on flints, the mocking goatherd, this woman and this maiden; myself naked, bruised, cut, famished, freezing, dazed, in such a grotto, on the edge of such an abyss. Was I near my goal? Will I ever reach it? Will there be an end to this night? Hardly had I the time to collect myself when I heard the barking of a dog and saw another light, so near, so near - right in the grotto.
He was addressing a woman old as himself, toothless, disheveled and also bent and shaky in the knees. Taking apparently no note of my presence, he continued in the same squeaky voice that seemed to struggle out of his throat: 'A gorgeous nuptial chamber for our love, and a splendid staff in place of the one you lost. With such a staff you should not stumble any more, my love. Then, as if taking note of me, but always speaking to his companion, he added: 'The stranger shall depart anon, beloved, and we shall dream our night's dreams all alone.
The whole scene filled me with terror, I watched it as in a trance; and as one entranced, I arose and walked to the entrance of the grotto, making the while desperate efforts to speak - to defend myself, to assert my right. Will you be so cruel as to take this grotto also which is my home for the night?
Happy are the homeless,. They are at home. The stumblers only - like ourselves, Need walk with staffs. The home-chained only, like ourselves, Must have a home. This made me cry in desperation: 'Look at my hands. Look at my feet. I am a wayfarer, lost in this desolate slope. I traced my way hither in my own blood. Not an inch further can I see of this fearful mountain which seems to be so familiar to you. Have you no fear of retribution? Give me at least your lantern, if you will not permit me to share this grotto with you for the night.
Light will not be shared. Love and see. Light and be. When the night is bled, And the day is fled. Who shall be there to dare? Good old woman. Though numb with cold and dumb with weariness, I shall not be a fly in your ointment.
I, too, have tasted once of love. I shall leave you my staff and my humble lodging which you have chosen for your nuptial chamber. But one small thing do I ask of you in return: Since you deny me the light of you lantern, will you not be so gracious as to guide me out of this grotto and direct me towards the summit? For I have lost all sense of direction, and of balance as well.
I know not how high I have risen, and how much higher I have yet to rise. The truly swift is ever slow. The highly sensitive is numb. The highly eloquent is dumb. The ebb and flow are but one tide. The guideless has the surest guide. The very great is very small. And he has all who gives his all. Breathlessly I awaited their reply which came in another weird chant and left me more perplexed and exasperated than before: 'The brow of the rock is hard and steep.
The lap of the void is soft and deep. The lion and the maggot, The cedar and the fagot, The rabbit and the snail, The lizard and the quail, The eagle and the mole - All in one hole. One hook. One bait. Death alone can compensate. As beneath, so on high - Die to live, or live to die. Darkness was so heavy I could feel its black weight upon my eyelids. Not another moment could I tarry. One hesitant step. Another hesitant step.
At the third I felt as if the mountain had suddenly slipped from under my feet, and I found me caught in the churning billows of a sea of darkness which sucked my breath and tossed me violently down - down, down. The last vision that flashed through my mind as I whirled in the void of the Black Pit was that of the fiendish groom and bride.
The last words I mumbled as the breath froze in my nostrils were there words, 'Die to live, or live to die. You have attained your goal. He was heavy of bulk, coarse of features, shaggy of beard and brow, deep and sharp of gaze, and of an age most difficult to determine. His touch withal was soft and strengthening. With his help I was able to sit up and to ask in a voice which barely reached my own ears, 'Where am I? I was on the very brink of it, and I asked the man to move with me into the grotto which he willingly did.
He is dumb. You do not seem at all afraid ' of me. How come you shun all men but me? For one hundred and fifty years omitting not a single day, in all seasons and in all weathers, my sinful eyes would search the flints of the Slope perchance I would see a man ascend this mountain and arrive here as you have arrived, staffless, naked and provision less.
Many have attempted the ascent by the Slope but none ever arrived. Many have arrived by other paths, but none staffless, naked and provision less. I watched your progress all day yesterday. I let you sleep out the night at the grotto; but with the early dawn I came here and found you breathless. Yet was I certain that you would come to life.
And, lo! You are more living than I. You have died to live. I am living to die. Aye, glory to his name. It is all as he promised. It is all as it should be. It leaves no question in my mind that you are the chosen man. Who is Mirdad? How strange. I was full certain that his name by now had filled the earth as it does fill until this day the ground beneath me, the air about me and the sky above me.
Holy is this ground, O stranger, his feet trod it. Holy is this air; his lungs breathed it. Holy is this sky; his eyes scanned it. After a pause I said, 'You whet my appetite for more about this man you call Mirdad. My name is Shamadam. I was Senior of the Ark when one of the nine companions died. Hardly had his soul departed hence when I was told that a stranger was at the gate asking for me.
I knew at once that Providence had sent him to take the dead companion's place, and should have rejoiced that God was still watching over the Ark as He had done since the days of our father Sam.
His answer came quick and emphatic, 'Aye, it is even as you have been told. But for reasons entirely beyond my ken I found rebellion heaving in my chest. Even before I laid an eye on the stranger, my whole being fought against him. And I decided to reject him, fully realizing that in rejecting him I would be violating the inviolable traditions and rejecting Him Who sent him. Naked, apparently famished and devoid of all means of protection, even a staff, he looked most helpless.
Yet a certain light upon his face made him appear more invulnerable than a knight in full Armour and much more ancient than his years. My very bowels cried out against him. Ask me not for an explanation.
Perhaps his penetrating eye did strip my soul naked, and it frightened me to see my soul unclothed before any man. Perhaps his purity unveiled my filth, and it grieved me to lose the veils which I had so long woven for my filth. For filth has ever loved her veils. Perhaps there was an ancient feud between his stars and mine. Who knows? He alone can tell. But he stood his ground and quietly counseled me to reconsider.
His counsel I took as an insult and I spat upon his face. Again he stood his ground unflinchingly, and slowly wiping the spittle off his face, he once more counseled me to change my decision. As he wiped the spittle off his face I felt as if mine were being smeared with it. I also felt myself defeated, and somewhere in the depth of me admitted that the combat was unequal, and that he was the stronger combatant. I was almost ready to grant the man';; request.
But I wished to see him humbled first. Yet would he not be humbled in any way. With hunger and cold arrayed against him on my side, I believed my battle won. Cruelly I refused to give him a morsel of bread saying that the monastery lived by charity and could dispense no charity.
In that I lied most flagrantly; for the monastery was far too rich to deny food and clothing to the needy. I wanted him to beg. But he would not beg. He demanded as of right; there was commanding in his asking. From the beginning it was his. To cover my defeat I finally proposed to him to enter the Ark as a servant - as a servant only.
That, I consoled myself, would humble him. Even then I did not realize that I was the beggar and not he. To seal my humiliation he accepted the proposal without a murmur. Little did I imagine at the time that by taking him in -even as a servant -1 was putting myself out. Until the last day I clung to my delusion that I, and not he, was the master of the Ark.
Ah, Mirdad, Mirdad, what have you done to Shamadam! Shamadam, what have you done to yourself! My heart was moved, and I said, 'Speak no more, I pray you, of this man whose memory flows out of you in tears. It is the Senior's pride of yore that is distilling yet these tears of gall. It is the authority of the letter that is gnashing its teeth against the authority of the spirit. Let the pride weep; it weeps its last.
Let the authority gnash; it gnashes for the last time. Ah, that my eyes were not so veiled in earthly mist when they first beheld his celestial countenance! Ah, that my ears were not so clogged with the wisdom of the world when they were challenged by his divine wisdom! But I have reaped much, and am yet to reap more, of the tares of my delusion. He moved about as if on air. Not a word escaped his lips.
We believed him to have taken a vow of silence. Some of us were inclined at first to tease him. He met their thrusts with an unearthly calm, and soon forced us all to respect his silence.
Unlike the other seven Companions who delighted in his calm and were soothed thereby, I found it oppressive and unnerving. Many an effort did I make to disturb it, but all in vain. To that name only he responded. That was all we knew of him.
Yet was his presence keenly felt by all, so keenly that seldom we would speak, even of things essential, save after he retired into his cell. They were years of plenty, the first seven years of Mirdad. Sevenfold and more were the monastery's vast possessions increased. My heart softened towards him, and I seriously consulted the community upon admitting him as a companion, seeing that Providence sent us no one else. Mirdad unsealed his lip! He gave vent to what his silence had so long concealed, and it burst forth in torrents so irresistible that all Companions were caught in their sweeping rush - all save this poor Shamadam who fought them to the last.
I sought to turn the tide by asserting my authority as Senior, but the Companions would recognize no authority save that of Mirdad. Mirdad was the master; Shamadam, but an outcast. I resorted even to cunning.
To some companions I offered rich bribes of silver and of gold; to others I promised large tracts of fertile land. I had almost succeeded when, in some mysterious manner, Mirdad became aware of my labors and undid them without an effort - simply with a few words. Too strange and too involved was the doctrine he held forth.
It is all in The Book. Of that I am not allowed to speak. But his eloquence would make the snow appear as pitch, and the pitch as snow. So keen and forceful was his word. To that weapon what could I oppose? Nothing at all except the monastery's seal which was in my keeping. But even that was rendered of no use. For the Companions, under his flaming exhortations, would force me to set my hand and the monastery's seal to every document they saw fit to have me execute.
Bit by bit they deeded away the lands of the monastery which had been donated by the faithful over a stretch of ages. Then began Mirdad to send the Companions out, laden with gifts to the poor and needy in all the villages hereabout. On the last Day of the Ark, which was one of the two annual festivals of the Ark - the other being The Day of The Vine - Mirdad concluded his mad acts by ordering his Companions to strip the monastery clean of all effects and to distribute them to the people gathered without.
If hate alone could slay, that which was then seething in my breast should have slain a thousand Mirdads. But his love was stronger than my hate. Again the combat was unequal. Again my pride would not desist until it saw itself sprawled out and trampled in the dust.
He crushed me without fighting me. I fought him, but only crushed myself. How often he would try in his long, loving patience to remove the scales which were upon my eyes! How often I would look for more and tougher scales to paste upon my eyes! The more of his gentleness he offered me, the more I gave him of my hatred in return. He was a legion in himself.
I fought a lonely fight. Had I the help of the other Companions, I should have conquered in the end. And then I would have eaten out his heart. But my companions fought with him against me. The traitors! Mirdad, Mirdad, you have avenged yourself. A snake's head keeps its poison even after it's severed from the body. But happily it cannot bite. Behold, Shamadam is now fangless and poison less. Sustain him with your love that he may see the day when his mouth shall drip with honey like your mouth.
For that he has your promise. You have this day delivered him of his first prison. Let him not tarry long in the second. The sun was about to set. The west wind had driven up a heavy mist that filled the gorges and hung like a mystic shroud over all the land from here to the sea.
It reached no higher than the waist of our mountain which had the appearance of having become a seashore. On the western horizon spread grim and heavy clouds that entirely obscured the sun. The Master, moved, but bridling his emotions, embraced each of the Seven in turn, saying as he embraced the last: 'Long have you lived upon the heights. To-day must you descend into the depths.
Save you ascend by descending, and save you join the valley to the summit, the heights shall ever make you giddy, and the depths shall ever make you blind.
You shall await my coming on this peak. And while awaiting me you shall be the keeper of my book, which is locked within an iron chest beneath the altar. See that no hands touch it - not even yours. In due time I shall send my messenger to take it and to publish it unto the world.
By these signs shall you know him: He shall ascend this summit by the slope of flints. Until his coming your tongue and lips shall be sealed, and you shall shun all human company. The sight of him alone shall release you from the prison of silence. After delivering the Book into his hands you shall be turned into a stone, which stone shall guard the entrance to this grotto until my coming. From that prison I alone shall deliver you. Should you find the waiting long, it shall be made longer.
Should you find it short, it shall be made shorter. Believe and be patient. The book was published in multiple languages including English, consists of pages and is available in Paperback format. The main characters of this philosophy, fiction story are ,. The book has been awarded with , and many others. Please note that the tricks or techniques listed in this pdf are either fictional or claimed to work by its creator.
If you, being limited by the senses, can yet remember certain things between your birth and death, how much more so can Time which was before your birth and lasts indefinitely beyond your death?
I say to you that Time remembers everything at all — not only that of which you have a vivid recollection, but that as well of which you are entirely unaware. For there is no oblivion in Time; no, not of the slightest movement, or breath, or whim. And all that is kept in the memory of Time is graven deep upon the things in Space. The very earth you tread; the very air you breathe, the very houses you dwell in can readily reveal to you the most minute details in the records of your lives, past, present and to come, had you but the stamina to read and the keenness to grasp the meaning.
In life as in death; on the Earth as beyond the Earth, you never are alone, but are in constant company of things and beings which have their share in your life and death, as you have yours in their life and death. As you partake of them, so they partake of you; and as you seek them, so they seek you.
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