It is to sow seeds with tenderness and reap the harvest with joy, even as if your beloved were to eat the fruit. It is to build a house with affection, even as if your beloved were to dwell in that house. It is to weave the cloth with threads drawn from your heart, even as if your beloved were to wear that cloth. You have been told also that life is darkness, and in your weariness you echo what was said by the weary.Īnd I say that life is indeed darkness save when there is urge,Īnd all urge is blind save when there is knowledge,Īnd all knowledge is vain save when there is work,Īnd all work is empty save when there is love Īnd when you work with love you bind yourself to yourself, and to one another, and to God. Which of you would be a reed, dumb and silent, when all else sings together in unison?Īlways you have been told that work is a curse and labour a misfortune.īut I say to you that when you work you fulfil a part of earth’s furthest dream, assigned to you when the dream was born,Īnd in keeping yourself with labour you are in truth loving life,Īnd to love life through labour is to be intimate with life’s inmost secret.īut if you in your pain call birth an affliction and the support of the flesh a curse written upon your brow, then I answer that naught but the sweat of your brow shall wash away that which is written.
When you work you are a flute through whose heart the whispering of the hours turns to music. You work that you may keep pace with the earth and the soul of the earth.įor to be idle is to become a stranger unto the seasons, and to step out of life’s procession, that marches in majesty and proud submission towards the infinite. Then a ploughman said, Speak to us of Work.
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