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<h6>Author</h6>
<h1>Paulo Coelho</h1>
<h6>Brazilian lyricist</h6>
<p id="paragraph">
As he sat there thinking, he sensed movement above him.
Looking up, he saw a pair of hawks flying high in the sky.
He watched the hawks as they drifted on the wind. Although
their flight appeared to have no pattern, it made a certain kind of
sense to the boy. It was just that he couldn’t grasp what it meant. He
followed the movement of the birds, trying to read something into
it. Maybe these desert birds could explain to him the meaning of
love without ownership.
He felt sleepy. In his heart, he wanted to remain awake, but he
also wanted to sleep. “I am learning the Language of the World, and
everything in the world is beginning to make sense to me…even the
flight of the hawks,” he said to himself. And, in that mood, he was
grateful to be in love. When you are in love, things make even more
sense, he thought.
Suddenly, one of the hawks made a flashing dive through the
sky, attacking the other. As it did so, a sudden, fleeting image came
to the boy: an army, with its swords at the ready, riding into the
oasis. The vision vanished immediately, but it had shaken him. He
had heard people speak of mirages, and had already seen some
himself: they were desires that, because of their intensity,
materialized over the sands of the desert. But he certainly didn’t
desire that an army invade the oasis.
He wanted to forget about the vision, and return to his
meditation. He tried again to concentrate on the pink shades of the
desert, and its stones. But there was something there in his heart
that wouldn’t allow him to do so.
“Always heed the omens,” the old king had said. The boy recalled
what he had seen in the vision, and sensed that it was actually going
to occur.
He rose, and made his way back toward the palm trees. Once
again, he perceived the many languages in the things about him: this
time, the desert was safe, and it was the oasis that had become
dangerous.
The camel driver was seated at the base of a palm tree,
observing the sunset. He saw the boy appear from the other side of
the dunes.
“An army is coming,” the boy said. “I had a vision.”
“The desert fills men’s hearts with visions,” the camel driver
answered.
But the boy told him about the hawks: that he had been
watching their flight and had suddenly felt himself to have plunged
to the Soul of the World.
The camel driver understood what the boy was saying. He knew
that any given thing on the face of the earth could reveal the history
of all things. One could open a book to any page, or look at a
person’s hand; one could turn a card, or watch the flight of the
birds…whatever the thing observed, one could find a connection
with his experience of the moment. Actually, it wasn’t that those
things, in themselves, revealed anything at all; it was just that
people, looking at what was occurring around them, could find a
means of penetration to the Soul of the World.
The desert was full of men who earned their living based on the
ease with which they could penetrate to the Soul of the World. They
were known as seers, and they were held in fear by women and the
elderly. Tribesmen were also wary of consulting them, because it
would be impossible to be effective in battle if one knew that he was
fated to die. The tribesmen preferred the taste of battle, and the
thrill of not knowing what the outcome would be; the future was
already written by Allah, and what he had written was always for
the good of man.
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<h5 class="pageNumber">Page 41</h5>
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