You ask me how I became a madman. It happened thus: One day, long <br />before many gods were born, I woke from a deep sleep and found all <br />my masks were stolen,--the seven masks I have fashioned an worn in <br />seven lives,--I ran maskless through the crowded streets shouting, <br />'Thieves, thieves, the cursed thieves.' <br /> <br />Men and women laughed at me and some ran to their houses in fear <br />of me. <br /> <br />And when I reached the market place, a youth standing on a house-top <br />cried, 'He is a madman.' I looked up to behold him; the sun kissed <br />my own naked face for the first time. For the first time the sun <br />kissed my own naked face and my soul was inflamed with love for <br />the sun, and I wanted my masks no more. And as if in a trance I <br />cried, 'Blessed, blessed are the thieves who stole my masks.' <br /> <br />Thus I became a madman. <br /> <br />And I have found both freedom of loneliness and the safety from <br />being understood, for those who understand us enslave something in <br />us. <br /> <br />But let me not be too proud of my safety. Even a Thief in a jail <br />is safe from another thief.<br /><br />Khalil Gibran<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-madman-his-parables-and-poems/
