Selections From the Writings of Dr. Dahesh
The Secret of the Cane Basket
A story selected from the book titled Strange Stories & Wonderful Tales (Vol. 1, p.20)
In the quiet stillness of the night, a cane basket lay on the top of an old closet, next to a porcelain vase. The closet heard the basket and the vase engaging in a strange intimate dialogue!
Why are they whispering in the calm of night? Can a basket, a porcelain vase, and an oak closet be animated?
How can they communicate with each other?
A spirit can blow anywhere it likes.
It can reside in any of them. Can a soul dwell in a body of flesh and bones, and yet find it impossible to dwell in bamboo, or oak, or porcelain?
No!
The cane basket said:
– So many memories of the remote past have been revived within me!
I knew the Prophet Moses, before his birth. His pure spirit, before materializing in this world, was in the Spiritual World praising the Lord. As for me, I was an angel glorifying the Creator alongside the great Prophet. Then the hour came when I had to support him in his message on Earth.
I was overwhelmed with joy and knelt to the Creative Being, Maker of the worlds. I proceeded to commence my mission, which was for my spirit to penetrate a bunch of cane reeds growing along the banks of the Nile. I soon commenced my duty.
Suddenly, Moses’ mother was inspired to cut off the cane reeds and with unusual energy and speed, she started to weave them into a basket.
She promptly completed the basket, which was the only means of rescue that she wielded against Pharaoh’s command that “The male children of the Hebrews must all perish from Egypt”.
And tears flowed from the mother’s eyes, watering the rescue cradle that was to carry Moses.
The cane basket resumed:
The child was placed in this rudimentary cane boat, and was pushed across the waves of the river, guarded and navigated by my spirit, by blowing gentle breezes at the appropriate time to direct the boat of hope towards the Egyptian princess.
My spirit aroused tenderness and compassion in the heart of the princess and revealed to her to rescue the child by raising him in her own palace. The child was exquisitely handsome, his beauty captivated her heart. No, he will not die. She will rescue and adopt him.
The history of this period in the Holy Book narrates the events of the story as follows:
Moses’ sister, Mary, stood observing the scene: she was behind a veil of tree leaves, but nothing escaped her. A royal procession approached the riverbank…
As for the place where the boy’s original home was, his mother sat there weeping and cursing the disastrous fate of her people. She trembled with fear, and waited…
As the ladies-in-waiting and the servants were occupied with the Pharaoh’s daughter, attending to her as she bathed in the river, the princess caught sight of the basket dancing with the waves, under the sun rays. At her command, the servants hurried to the basket cradle and carried it to her. It was an exciting discovery: a handsome baby smiling for everyone and was passed from one person to another, and gently caressed. The Pharaoh’s daughter decided to take him, but she had to provide for his food and upbringing. She was in a dilemma: what could she do?
The veil of tree leaves, where Mary was hiding, began to move in a strange manner, and a frightened and shy girl emerged from behind it, trying to flee from the face of the crowd.
The servants followed and caught up to her, and brought her before the princess, who questioned her. The girl denied that she knew anything about the infant or the cradle. She was asked to look for a wet-nurse among the Hebrews. Moses’ sister found this an excellent opportunity to bring her mother to the princess as a nurse for the boy. The Pharaoh’s daughter was impressed by her, gave her some advice, and promised to pay as a reward for looking after the boy.
The cane basket got tired of talking, but the porcelain vase wasn’t feeling sleepy yet:
Please, carry on, the porcelain vase said.
The basket resumed its story, saying:
Time passes quickly, but Egypt and the Nile will live near eternity. As for the cane reeds, they are still alive to this day and filling the Nile banks in large numbers through a sayyal, a breath from my spirit recalling echoes of old memories.
The basket, which stood on the closet, had not forgotten the ancient past, paused for a while, and held its breath.
A strange thing happened this evening: the arrival of an unusual person awakened in its spirit unexpected memories! It felt a tremor, an inner quiver!
A strange thought came to her mind and was about to reveal it:
Could it be that Moses returned to Earth? What do the porcelain vase and the oak closet think?
At this moment, a sudden movement in the room took place: someone ascended a ladder with speed and energy, quickly stretched his hand to the top of the closet, and gently held the cane basket, thereby stopping it from talking. It became silent, and its secret remained hidden!
However, lightning flashed across the white walls zigzagging and then night descended.
I Will Write Your Name
Dedicated to Voota
A poem selected from the book Winged Poems, published as one of a series of volumes titled
Gardens of the Gods Adorned with Roses of Paradise (p. 59)
I will write your lovely name on the seashore,
so that the waves may come tangled and successive to kiss it with great passion and longing.
I will write it on the tender young branches of the trees,
So that the nightingales may perch on these green branches and then sing their wondrous song.
I will draw it on the wings of colorful, ornate butterflies,
To add to the splendor of those wondrous colored creatures,
So that they move about kissing the beautiful flowers of the fields.
I will carve it on the hard rocks,
So that, after being hard as iron, they may soften and become humble, for your sweet name will soften the inanimate and make it feel and sense, and then glorify God, its Creator.
When wars break out and unleash their fury, as if they are,
satanic devils,
On the infernal battlefield, they harvest of thousands of youths using bullets and the horrific tank guns
However, as soon as the combatants see your divine name,
The roar of the machine-guns is silenced
And the sound of the earth-shaking bombs is hushed,
And the hands of those harboring hate are now extended to shake hands
So peace prevails, and the restless souls are at ease.
I will draw it in the book pages of space,
So that heavy rain falls reviving plants and animals,
Hence, bringing forth abundance that pleases the poor
After their fruits ripen and peace of mind ensues.
With your name, I will decorate bouquets of roses,
So that their buds may open up and emerge from their sheaths,
Its fragrance grows ever more fragrant and its aroma ever more exquisite.
The roses will smile, and the jasmine will laugh,
The violets humble themselves and the chamomiles dance,
Rejoicing at the sound of your strange, exquisite name.
I will adorn your name on the horns of ibex and the foreheads of gazelles, so that they may roam freely in their pristine forests, joy filling their hearts, and they will flourish and strut with pride at the beauty of your cherished name.
I will inscribe your name the doors of the sad and sorrowful,
And the windows of widows and the families of the desperate who are dying,
Transforming their grief into happiness, and their sorrows into joy,
And glorify the Creator of all beings and the Originator of all creatures.
And I will inscribe it upon the pages of the seas and the expanse of the oceans, so that lost ships may find their way and reach their safe harbor.
And I will inscribe it upon the lyre, so that its melodies may grow more enchanting, and its rhythm more captivatingly beautiful.
I will suspend your name in the vastness of the mighty galaxy,
To be seen by billions of stars floating in their orbits since eternity,
Increasing its brilliance and radiance to an unparalleled level.
I will engrave your hoped-for name
Deep within my heart, which is captivated by your divine love.
For it has become an inseparable part of me; it is he who guided my soul to the shores of safety and tranquility.
In my final hour, I will write it with my trembling hand,
on my heart which yearns for you,
So that it may accompany me to the next world to bring me joy,
As it brought me happiness on this wretched earth,
Ah! I have found guidance, for my heart has been guided and has sung in the world of eternity before death overtakes me.
Beirut, 12:30 P.M., June 18,1974
I will Return
Selected from the book titled Arrows & Spears (p. 42)
I
There, in the far reaches of the clear blue sky,
Beyond those clear bright clouds,
God created a magic place of wonderful allure,
The spirits of the wretched and the sorrowful yearn for,
To that far and joyful place, I will return.
II
There, beyond the transparent clouds,
The lights shine from a radiant bright star;
And beyond this unique, ever-shining gem,
God created a captivating world, yearned for by restless souls seeking tranquility.
To this place of perpetual brightness and splendor, I will return.
III
There, beyond the eternal galaxy,
Distances fade away, and dimensions seize to exist,
those who are destined to traverse it,
Will find a wondrous paradise that God created for his chosen, righteous, and pure ones.
To this paradise of everlasting pleasures and delights, I will return.
IV
There, beyond the wondrous nebulae,
Visions come and go, and imaginations come live.
In these pristine places, the maidens of sweet hopes frolic,
And imprint, with their alluring lips, dewy kisses on the mouths of those who deserve them.
To this captivating abode, which Providence has bestowed upon the weary, I will return.
V
There, where heavenly flashes of lightning collide,
Where meteors penetrate the confines of forbidden worlds,
And beyond the hills of gold and turquoise, and the mounds of coral and emerald,
Mountains of precious stones and onyx,
Valleys of agate and jasper, and plains of emerald and ruby,
The river of Paradise flows through the city of tranquility.
To this magic and peacefully slumbering city, , I will return.
VI
There, in a place beyond comprehension,
That God has prepared for His loved ones,
A place, inconceivable and not jotted by a pen
My heart yearns, and my soul longs.
And to that place, my beloved ones, I will soon return.
The Salibi farm,
Souk EL-Gharb, Lebanon
Sunday morning,
Jun 25, 1944
My Word
A part of my heart,
A piece of my soul,
The very essence of my being!
It is my hope, wandering in the desert
Of this tumultuous, grief-fraught life!
It is my wish lost in this world’s oasis,
Which is rife with elements of misery and wretchedness.
It is my tears which have sworn to remain
A companion of sadness and an ally of tears !
It is my sincere sorrows that always find pleasure in traversing this vast expanse!
It is the words of a sad, suffering, miserable young man.
Whose afflictionsvowed never to separate from his shadow.
It is the words that will immortalized
within the pages of books,
After its owner lay in repose inside his faithful grave!
Dahesh,
From the book The Broken Heart
I Love Books
I love books immensely;
For through them, I can roam the battlefield,
And traverse the magnificent oceans,
I can soar high in the sky,
Daring the most powerful eagles,
Making my way through the wondrous and strange fog,
Then you see me wander across the horizons,
Crossing the vast desert , and wide barren lands ,
Immersing in the boisterous festivals brimming with joy,
And then witness tragic scenes saturated with sorrow,
And other events abound in our planet ,
And what its inhabitants commit,
Be it good or evil.
I see all things through the books ,
Without moving from my place.
So much love they are to my heart.
Dr. Dahesh