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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"> | ||
| THE BOY RODE ALONG THROUGH THE DESERT FOR SEVERAL hours, listening | ||
| avidly to what his heart had to say. It was his heart that would tell | ||
| him where his treasure was hidden. | ||
| “Where your treasure is, there also will be your heart,” the | ||
| alchemist had told him. | ||
| But his heart was speaking of other things. With pride, it told the | ||
| story of a shepherd who had left his flock to follow a dream he had | ||
| on two different occasions. It told of Personal Legend, and of the | ||
| many men who had wandered in search of distant lands or beautiful | ||
| women, confronting the people of their times with their | ||
| preconceived notions. It spoke of journeys, discoveries, books, and | ||
| change. | ||
| As he was about to climb yet another dune, his heart whispered, | ||
| “Be aware of the place where you are brought to tears. That’s where | ||
| I am, and that’s where your treasure is.” | ||
| The boy climbed the dune slowly. A full moon rose again in the | ||
| starry sky: it had been a month since he had set forth from the oasis. | ||
| The moonlight cast shadows through the dunes, creating the | ||
| appearance of a rolling sea; it reminded the boy of the day when | ||
| that horse had reared in the desert, and he had come to know the | ||
| alchemist. And the moon fell on the desert’s silence, and on a man’s | ||
| journey in search of treasure. | ||
| When he reached the top of the dune, his heart leapt. There, | ||
| illuminated by the light of the moon and the brightness of the | ||
| desert, stood the solemn and majestic Pyramids of Egypt. | ||
| The boy fell to his knees and wept. He thanked God for making | ||
| him believe in his Personal Legend, and for leading him to meet a | ||
| king, a merchant, an Englishman, and an alchemist. And above all | ||
| for his having met a woman of the desert who had told him that love | ||
| would never keep a man from his Personal Legend. | ||
| If he wanted to, he could now return to the oasis, go back to | ||
| Fatima, and live his life as a simple shepherd. After all, the alchemist | ||
| continued to live in the desert, even though he understood the | ||
| Language of the World, and knew how to transform lead into gold. | ||
| He didn’t need to demonstrate his science and art to anyone. The | ||
| boy told himself that, on the way toward realizing his own Personal | ||
| Legend, he had learned all he needed to know, and had experienced | ||
| everything he might have dreamed of. | ||
| But here he was, at the point of finding his treasure, and he | ||
| reminded himself that no project is completed until its objective has | ||
| been achieved. The boy looked at the sands around him, and saw | ||
| that, where his tears had fallen, a scarab beetle was scuttling | ||
| through the sand. During his time in the desert, he had learned that, | ||
| in Egypt, the scarab beetles are a symbol of God. | ||
| Another omen! The boy began to dig into the dune. As he did so, | ||
| he thought of what the crystal merchant had once said: that anyone | ||
| could build a pyramid in his backyard. The boy could see now that | ||
| he couldn’t do so if he placed stone upon stone for the rest of his life. | ||
| Throughout the night, the boy dug at the place he had chosen, | ||
| but found nothing. He felt weighted down by the centuries of time | ||
| since the Pyramids had been built. But he didn’t stop. He struggled | ||
| to continue digging as he fought the wind, which often blew the | ||
| sand back into the excavation. His hands were abraded and | ||
| exhausted, but he listened to his heart. It had told him to dig where | ||
| his tears fell. | ||
| As he was attempting to pull out the rocks he encountered, he | ||
| heard footsteps. Several figures approached him. Their backs were | ||
| to the moonlight, and the boy could see neither their eyes nor their | ||
| faces. | ||
| “What are you doing here?” one of the figures demanded. | ||
| Because he was terrified, the boy didn’t answer. He had found | ||
| where his treasure was, and was frightened at what might happen. | ||
| “We’re refugees from the tribal wars, and we need money,” the | ||
| other figure said. “What are you hiding there?” | ||
| “I’m not hiding anything,” the boy answered. | ||
| But one of them seized the boy and yanked him back out of the | ||
| hole. Another, who was searching the boy’s bags, found the piece of | ||
| gold. | ||
| </p> | ||
| <div> | ||
| <h5 class="pageNumber">Page 60</h5> | ||
| <a href="alchemist59.html" class="previous">« Previous</a> | ||
| <a href="alchemist61.html" class="next">Next »</a> | ||
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| </body> | ||
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