Work

Then a ploughman said, Speak to us of Work.

Then a farmer said, Tell us about Work.

And he answered, saying:

And he answered:

You work that you may keep pace with the earth and the soul of the earth.

You work to keep pace with the earth and its soul.

For 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.

For to be idle is to become a stranger to the seasons and step out of life’s procession. That procession marches toward the infinite with majesty and proud submission.

When you work you are a flute through whose heart the whispering of the hours turns to music.

When you work, you are a flute. The whispers of the hours pass through your heart and become music.

Which of you would be a reed, dumb and silent, when all else sings together in unison?

Who among you would choose to be a silent reed when all else sings together in unison?

Always you have been told that work is a curse and labour a misfortune.

You have always been told that work is a curse and labor is a misfortune.

But I say to you that when you work you fulfil a part of earth’s furthest dream, assigned to you when that dream was born,

But I tell you that when you work, you fulfill a part of the earth’s farthest dream. That part was assigned to you when the dream began.

And in keeping yourself with labour you are in truth loving life,

And by keeping busy with work, you are truly loving life,

And to love life through labour is to be intimate with life’s inmost secret.

And to love life through work is to know life’s deepest secret intimately.

But 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.

But in your pain, you may call birth a hardship and the work of sustaining the body a curse written on your forehead. If so, I answer that only the sweat of your brow can wash away that curse.

You have been told also that life is darkness, and in your weariness you echo what was said by the weary.

You have also been told that life is darkness. And when you are tired, you repeat what tired people have said.

And I say that life is indeed darkness ‘save when there is urge,

And I say that life is indeed darkness unless there is desire,

And all urge is blind save when there is knowledge,

And every urge is blind unless there is knowledge,

And all knowledge is vain save when there is work,

And all knowledge is useless without work,

And all work is empty save when there is love;

And all work is empty without love.

And when you work with love you bind yourself to yourself, and to one another, and to God.

And when you work with love, you connect with yourself, with one another, and with God.

And what is it to work with love?

And what does it mean to work with love?

It is to weave the cloth with threads drawn from your heart, even as if your beloved were to wear that cloth.

It is to weave cloth with threads from your heart, as if your beloved were going to wear it.

It is to build a house with affection, even as if your beloved were to dwell in that house.

It is to build a house with love, as if your beloved were going to live in it.

It is to sow seeds with tenderness and reap the harvest with joy, even as if your beloved were to eat the fruit.

It means planting seeds with care and gathering the harvest with joy, as if your beloved were going to eat the fruit.

It is to charge all things you fashion with a breath of your own spirit,

It is to fill everything you create with a breath of your own spirit,

And to know that all the blessed dead are standing about you and watching.

And to know that all the blessed dead are standing around you and watching.

Often have I heard you say, as if speaking in sleep, “He who works in marble, and finds the shape of his own soul in the stone, is nobler than he who ploughs the soil. And he who seizes the rainbow to lay it on a cloth in the likeness of man, is more than he who makes the sandals for our feet.”

I have often heard you say, as if speaking in your sleep, “The person who works in marble and finds the shape of their soul in the stone is nobler than the person who plows the soil. And the person who captures a rainbow to paint a human likeness on canvas is greater than the person who makes sandals for our feet.”

But I say, not in sleep but in the overwakefulness of noontide, that the wind speaks not more sweetly to the giant oaks than to the least of all the blades of grass;

But I say this not in sleep, but in the full wakefulness of midday. The wind speaks no more sweetly to the giant oaks than to the smallest blade of grass.

And he alone is great who turns the voice of the wind into a song made sweeter by his own loving.

Only the one who turns the voice of the wind into a song made sweeter by his own love is great.

Work is love made visible.

Work is love made visible.

And if you cannot work with love but only with distaste, it is better that you should leave your work and sit at the gate of the temple and take alms of those who work with joy.

And if you cannot work with love, but only with distaste, it is better to leave your work. Sit at the temple gate and accept charity from those who work with joy.

For if you bake bread with indifference, you bake a bitter bread that feeds but half man’s hunger.

For if you bake bread without caring, it will be bitter and satisfy only half a person’s hunger.

And if you grudge the crushing of the grapes, your grudge distils a poison in the wine. And if you sing though as angels, and love not the singing, you muffle man’s ears to the voices of the day and the voices of the night.

If you resent crushing the grapes, your resentment poisons the wine. And if you sing like an angel but do not love singing, you muffle people’s ears to the voices of day and night.