In honor of Arabic literature, I give you
The extraordinary Khalil Gibran (“Haa-leel Jee-brahn”):
But if in your fear you would seek only love’s peace and love’s pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love’s threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.
Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.
There are undoubtedly fervent and frightening believers in Israel. But more often you find a Muslim like my co-worker Saadet, originally from Turkey but who now lives in Holland. She prays five times a day, won’t touch — barely even for a handshake — men because it’s haram. We tease her incessantly. And yet, as our mutual friend Iyad pointed out, Saadet is completely free and wild. She may be conservative, but she’s the cartwheeling parabolas within the neat boundaries of the first quadrant of the X-Y axis. It’s Iyad’s metaphor, not mine.
