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| <!DOCTYPE html> | ||
| <html lang="en"> | ||
| <head> | ||
| <meta charset="UTF-8"> | ||
| <meta http-equiv="X-UA-Compatible" content="IE=edge"> | ||
| <meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1.0"> | ||
| <title>the alchemist</title> | ||
| <link rel="stylesheet" href="style.css"> | ||
| </head> | ||
| <body> | ||
| <div class="container" > | ||
| <div id="myHeader" class="header"> | ||
| <a href="index.html"><button class="home-button">Home</button></a> | ||
| <button class="bookmark-button">Bookmark</button> | ||
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| <input type="text" id="text-to-search" placeholder="Enter text to search..."> | ||
| <button onclick="search()">Search</button> | ||
| </div> | ||
| </div> | ||
| <h6>Author</h6> | ||
| <h1>Paulo Coelho</h1> | ||
| <h6>Brazilian lyricist</h6> | ||
| <p id="paragraph"> | ||
| The next day, the boy returned to the well, hoping to see the girl. | ||
| To his surprise, the Englishman was there, looking out at the desert. | ||
| “I waited all afternoon and evening,” he said. “He appeared with | ||
| the first stars of evening. I told him what I was seeking, and he | ||
| asked me if I had ever transformed lead into gold. I told him that | ||
| was what I had come here to learn. | ||
| “He told me I should try to do so. That’s all he said: ‘Go and try.’” | ||
| The boy didn’t say anything. The poor Englishman had traveled | ||
| all this way, only to be told that he should repeat what he had | ||
| already done so many times. | ||
| “So, then try,” he said to the Englishman. | ||
| “That’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to start now.” | ||
| As the Englishman left, Fatima arrived and filled her vessel with | ||
| water. | ||
| “I came to tell you just one thing,” the boy said. “I want you to be | ||
| my wife. I love you.” | ||
| The girl dropped the container, and the water spilled. | ||
| “I’m going to wait here for you every day. I have crossed the | ||
| desert in search of a treasure that is somewhere near the Pyramids, | ||
| and for me, the war seemed a curse. But now it’s a blessing, because | ||
| it brought me to you.” | ||
| “The war is going to end someday,” the girl said. | ||
| The boy looked around him at the date palms. He reminded | ||
| himself that he had been a shepherd, and that he could be a | ||
| shepherd again. Fatima was more important than his treasure. | ||
| “The tribesmen are always in search of treasure,” the girl said, as | ||
| if she had guessed what he was thinking. “And the women of the | ||
| desert are proud of their tribesmen.” | ||
| She refilled her vessel and left. | ||
| The boy went to the well every day to meet with Fatima. He told | ||
| her about his life as a shepherd, about the king, and about the | ||
| crystal shop. They became friends, and except for the fifteen | ||
| minutes he spent with her, each day seemed that it would never | ||
| pass. When he had been at the oasis for almost a month, the leader | ||
| of the caravan called a meeting of all of the people traveling with | ||
| him. | ||
| “We don’t know when the war will end, so we can’t continue our | ||
| journey,” he said. “The battles may last for a long time, perhaps even | ||
| years. There are powerful forces on both sides, and the war is | ||
| important to both armies. It’s not a battle of good against evil. It’s a | ||
| war between forces that are fighting for the balance of power, and, | ||
| when that type of battle begins, it lasts longer than others—because | ||
| Allah is on both sides.” | ||
| The people went back to where they were living, and the boy | ||
| went to meet with Fatima that afternoon. He told her about the | ||
| morning’s meeting. “The day after we met,” Fatima said, “you told | ||
| me that you loved me. Then, you taught me something of the | ||
| universal language and the Soul of the World. Because of that, I have | ||
| become a part of you.” | ||
| The boy listened to the sound of her voice, and thought it to be | ||
| more beautiful than the sound of the wind in the date palms. | ||
| “I have been waiting for you here at this oasis for a long time. I | ||
| have forgotten about my past, about my traditions, and the way in | ||
| which men of the desert expect women to behave. Ever since I was a | ||
| child, I have dreamed that the desert would bring me a wonderful | ||
| present. Now, my present has arrived, and it’s you.” | ||
| The boy wanted to take her hand. But Fatima’s hands held to the | ||
| handles of her jug. | ||
| </p> | ||
| <div> | ||
| <h5 class="pageNumber">Page 39</h5> | ||
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