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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> | ||
| <div class="wrapper"> | ||
| <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"> | ||
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| “They are men of the desert, and the men of the desert are used | ||
| to dealing with omens.” | ||
| “Well, then, they probably already know.” | ||
| “They’re not concerned with that right now. They believe that if | ||
| they have to know about something Allah wants them to know, | ||
| someone will tell them about it. It has happened many times before. | ||
| But, this time, the person is you.” | ||
| The boy thought of Fatima. And he decided he would go to see | ||
| the chiefs of the tribes. | ||
| THE BOY APPROACHED THE GUARD AT THE FRONT OF THE huge white tent at | ||
| the center of the oasis. | ||
| “I want to see the chieftains. I’ve brought omens from the | ||
| desert.” | ||
| Without responding, the guard entered the tent, where he | ||
| remained for some time. When he emerged, it was with a young | ||
| Arab, dressed in white and gold. The boy told the younger man what | ||
| he had seen, and the man asked him to wait there. He disappeared | ||
| into the tent. | ||
| Night fell, and an assortment of fighting men and merchants | ||
| entered and exited the tent. One by one, the campfires were | ||
| extinguished, and the oasis fell as quiet as the desert. Only the lights | ||
| in the great tent remained. During all this time, the boy thought | ||
| about Fatima, and he was still unable to understand his last | ||
| conversation with her. | ||
| Finally, after hours of waiting, the guard bade the boy enter. The | ||
| boy was astonished by what he saw inside. Never could he have | ||
| imagined that, there in the middle of the desert, there existed a tent | ||
| like this one. The ground was covered with the most beautiful | ||
| carpets he had ever walked upon, and from the top of the structure | ||
| hung lamps of handwrought gold, each with a lighted candle. The | ||
| tribal chieftains were seated at the back of the tent in a semicircle, | ||
| resting upon richly embroidered silk cushions. Servants came and | ||
| went with silver trays laden with spices and tea. Other servants | ||
| maintained the fires in the hookahs. The atmosphere was suffused | ||
| with the sweet scent of smoke. | ||
| There were eight chieftains, but the boy could see immediately | ||
| which of them was the most important: an Arab dressed in white | ||
| and gold, seated at the center of the semicircle. At his side was the | ||
| young Arab the boy had spoken with earlier. | ||
| “Who is this stranger who speaks of omens?” asked one of the | ||
| chieftains, eyeing the boy. | ||
| “It is I,” the boy answered. And he told what he had seen. | ||
| “Why would the desert reveal such things to a stranger, when it | ||
| knows that we have been here for generations?” said another of the | ||
| chieftains. | ||
| “Because my eyes are not yet accustomed to the desert,” the boy | ||
| said. “I can see things that eyes habituated to the desert might not | ||
| see.” | ||
| And also because I know about the Soul of the World, he thought | ||
| to himself. | ||
| “The oasis is neutral ground. No one attacks an oasis,” said a | ||
| third chieftain. | ||
| “I can only tell you what I saw. If you don’t want to believe me, | ||
| you don’t have to do anything about it.” | ||
| The men fell into an animated discussion. They spoke in an | ||
| Arabic dialect that the boy didn’t understand, but, when he made to | ||
| leave, the guard told him to stay. The boy became fearful; the omens | ||
| told him that something was wrong. He regretted having spoken to | ||
| the camel driver about what he had seen in the desert. | ||
| Suddenly, the elder at the center smiled almost imperceptibly, | ||
| and the boy felt better. The man hadn’t participated in the | ||
| discussion, and, in fact, hadn’t said a word up to that point. But the | ||
| boy was already used to the Language of the World, and he could | ||
| feel the vibrations of peace throughout the tent. Now his intuition | ||
| was that he had been right in coming. | ||
| The discussion ended. The chieftains were silent for a few | ||
| moments as they listened to what the old man was saying. Then he | ||
| turned to the boy: this time his expression was cold and distant. | ||
| “Two thousand years ago, in a distant land, a man who believed | ||
| in dreams was thrown into a dungeon and then sold as a slave,” the | ||
| old man said, now in the dialect the boy understood. “Our | ||
| merchants bought that man, and brought him to Egypt. All of us | ||
| know that whoever believes in dreams also knows how to interpret | ||
| them.” | ||
| </p> | ||
| <div> | ||
| <h5 class="pageNumber">Page 43</h5> | ||
| <a href="alchemist42.html" class="previous">« Previous</a> | ||
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