These words have moved with me from office to office , from cubicle to cubicle form building to building ,hanging on the wall, for the past 5 years; I hope you enjoy them like I do.
“ Pity the nation that wears a cloth it does not weave, eats a bread it does not harvest, and drinks a wine that flows not from its winepress.
“ Pity the nation that acclaims the bully as hero, and that deems the glittering conqueror bountiful.
“ Pity the nation that despises a passion in its dream, yet submits in its awakening.
“Pity the nation that raises not its voice save when it walks in a funeral, boasts not except among its ruins, and will rebel not save when its neck is laid between the sword and the block.
“Pity the nation that whose statesman is a fox, whose philosopher is a juggler, and whose art is the art of patching and mimicking.
“Pity the nation that welcomes its new ruler with trumpeting and farewells him with hooting, only to welcome another with trumpeting once again.
“Pity the nation whose sages are dumb with years and whose strong men are yet in the cradle.
“Pity the nation divided into fragments, each fragment deeming itself a nation”
Gibran Khalil Gibran
The Garden of The Prophet