Your children are not your children.

They are the sons and daughters of your longing for life itself.

They come through you but not from you, 

and though they are with you, they belong not to you. 

You may give them your love, but not your thoughts,

for they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies, but not their souls, 

for their souls dwell in the houses of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them, but do not try to make them like you.

For life does not go backward, nor does it linger in yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children are sent forth as living arrows.

The archer sees the target on the path of infinity, 

and He, with His power, has the arrows that are the children of His God.

Let your bow be directed by the archer's hand toward joy;

For as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves the bow that is stable.

KHALIL GIBRAN, Arab poet, 1883–1931