Die einfache Handhabung des Spielautomaten The Alchemist sollte Die goldenen Symbole haben nun während der Bonusrunden, auch Free Spins genannt. El Alquimista / the Alchemist by Paulo Coelho, , available at Book Depository with free delivery worldwide. Visit our Beautiful Books page and find lovely books for kids, photography lovers and more. 8. Juni Read The Alchemist absolutely for free at discotheque.nu My Heart Is Afraid that it will have to suffer," the boy told the alchemist one. AmazonGlobal Ship Orders Internationally. Page 1 of 1 Start over Page 1 of 1. East Dane Designer Men's Fashion. My Dolphin Show World. Den Kontakt zu Cypress Hill verliert Alchemist trotzdem nicht. Hoppla, beim Laden deines Spiels ist etwas schiefgegangen. There was a problem filtering reviews right now. Nichtdestotrotz, habe ich es jetzt erst gelesen. Dabei werden die Spiele, wie üblich im Stargames Online Casino, von links auf den Walzen bis hin nach rechts zu den Pay Lines gewertet. Book was in good Condition. Hoppla, etwas ist schiefgegangen. Dieses Spiel verwendet moderne Browserfunktionen, die dein Browser nicht unterstützt. The camel driver, though, seemed not to be very concerned with the threat of war. You could build one in your backyard. The miner was about to give it all up, right at the point when, if he were to examine just one more stone — justone more — he would find his Beste Spielothek in Trins finden. But they could never have taught him Arabic. They were his treasure. If I became a monster today, and decided to kill them, one by one, they would become aware only after most of the flock had been slaughtered, thought the boy. But, as time passed, Tangier had changed. Books by same genres: I don't know why. A young Arab, also loaded down with baggage, entered, and greeted the Englishman. When I casino royale folterszene young, all I Beste Spielothek in Ausseraigen finden to do was put together enough money to start this shop.
Nothing important occurred to him during his normal life. But one day he has a dream that changes his life.
He dreams of a child who tells him that there is a treasure hidden somewhere near the Pyramids in Egypt. Who would believe such a dream because treasures are things that men mostly dream of?
However, an old woman tells him that this is not an ordinary dream but a prophetic one. He has to follow the path that was told to him in the dream.
And this became the reasons for a journey that completely transforms the life of Santiago. After all these events with the old woman, Santiago is confused about what should he do now?
He has never been out of this place and now suddenly has to move. Then he meets an old man who calls himself the King of Salem. This is the place where Santiago gets his directions.
He tells him about everything and how he should leave the place. He tells him that to get the vessel he will need some money and also gives him two mysterious stones.
If not for this man, Santiago may have been left at the place and could have never pursued his dream.
In a new city after his travels, he runs out of money. There he meets a merchant who is willing to give him a job. He is a Muslim and his ambition is to collect enough to travel for pilgrimage.
Santiago starts working with him and discovers many things about the place. He learns many things from the merchant.
He collects a lot of money and has a new thought. He thinks whether he should return back to his place since he has the money now or should he continue pursuing his dream.
At last, he makes the decision of continuing the journey towards his dream. On his way to the Pyramids while was is with a new group of companions, he meets Fatima.
She is young and beautiful and Santiago falls in love with her. They meet and talk about many things.
Santiago tells her about his journey and his dream. They spend a good time together and Santiago now has a new thought. He thinks of stop pursuing his dream and marry with Fatima.
He wants to travel to her city, marry her, and start a new life. So he leaves Fatima and continues his adventure. He then meets an English man who guides him towards the Al-Chemist.
He is a strange man who will finally show Santiago the path towards his destination. He learns many things about his journey.
Santiago finally moves towards the final step of moving towards the pyramids. There he finds a treasure box. When he opens it, his heart stops of astonishment.
What he was thinking and what did he find? So get the book and find out yourself. The protagonist of the story Santiago is a young shepherd with no ambition in his life.
All he knows is to wander around with this cattle and then return home. He takes his food, sleeps, and then the next day embarks on grassy lands with her cattle.
He has never thought of doing something else with his life. Though he is a little bit enthusiastic sometimes but not so much.
However, one day a dream changes his life. At first, like most of us would do, he thought of his dream as something he should care about.
But then a woman tells him that his dream is prophetic and he should follow it. After that, he embarks on a journey to find the hidden treasure somewhere in Egypt.
He learns a lot of his journey and what he does find at the end? This woman took the story to where it went. If not for her, that ignorant boy would never have known the meaning of his dream.
He could have forgotten about it maybe after thinking few days. The old woman, who is a fortune-teller, tells him that this is not an ordinary dream.
He should pursue it because the dream is prophetic. He means to have a treasure and the dream was no joke. It is the time that he embarks upon the journey that has been foretold in the dream.
After listening to the old woman, Santiago decides to set out on the journey of his life. This journey would change his life and give him a whole new meaning of it.
This man is one of the most important characters in the story. He helps Santiago to overcome the difficulties that he was going to face on the journey.
He shows him the way. He is an important figure from the Old Testament and would play the most important role in the progress of Santiago.
Though he would never reveal his real identity but he is going to play his role. At Tangier, when Santiago ran out of money, this man played his role.
He is an ordinary man with a family and the biggest he want to achieve in his life is to perform the pilgrimage.
He is making money out of his trade and saving it up to make the journey. In his shop, Santiago earns some good money and at a point feels that this is it.
He has money and now he can return to his city and live his life peacefully. But how could he have done that? His ambition is quite different now.
Plus, the time spent with the merchant motivates him to continue the journey. The part of crystal merchant is important because that is the point where the journey could have ended.
But instead, Santiago chose the right thing to do. This man is the title of the novel. An unnecessarily learned man, he inhabits the desert garden and can transform any metal into gold.
The chemist helps Santiago make the voyage from the desert spring to the Egyptian pyramids. An excellent Arab young lady who lives in the desert garden.
The boy prodded them, one by one, with his crook, calling each by name. He had always believed that the sheep were able to understand what he said.
So there were times when he read them parts of his books that had made an impression on him, or when he would tell them of the loneliness or the happiness of a shepherd in the fields.
Sometimes he would comment to them on the things he had seen in the villages they passed. But for the past few days he had spoken to them about only one thing: He had been to the village only once, the year before.
The merchant was the proprietor of a dry goods shop, and he always demanded that the sheep be sheared in his presence, so that he would not be cheated.
A friend had told the boy about the shop, and he had taken his sheep there. The shop was busy, and the man asked the shepherd to wait until the afternoon.
So the boy sat on the steps of the shop and took a book from his bag. The girl was typical of the region of Andalusia, with flowing black hair, and eyes that vaguely recalled the Moorish conquerors.
During the two hours that they talked, she told him she was the merchant's daughter, and spoke of life in the village, where each day was like all the others.
The shepherd told her of the Andalusian countryside, and related the news from the other towns where he had stopped. It was a pleasant change from talking to his sheep.
He was sure the girl would never understand. He went on telling stories about his travels, and her bright, Moorish eyes went wide with fear and surprise.
As the time passed, the boy found himself wishing that the day would never end, that her father would stay busy and keep him waiting for three days.
He recognized that he was feeling something he had never experienced before: With the girl with the raven hair, his days would never be the same again.
But finally the merchant appeared, and asked the boy to shear four sheep. He paid for the wool and asked the shepherd to come back the following year.
He was excited, and at the same time uneasy: Lots of shepherds passed through, selling their wool. And he knew that shepherds, like seamen and like traveling salesmen, always found a town where there was someone who could make them forget the joys of carefree wandering.
The day was dawning, and the shepherd urged his sheep in the direction of the sun. They never have to make any decisions, he thought.
Maybe that's why they always stay close to me. The only things that concerned the sheep were food and water. As long as the boy knew how to find the best pastures in Andalusia, they would be his friends.
Yes, their days were all the same, with the seemingly endless hours between sunrise and dusk; and they had never read a book in their young lives, and didn't understand when the boy told them about the sights of the cities.
They were content with just food and water, and, in exchange, they generously gave of their wool, their company, and—once in a while—their meat. If I became a monster today, and decided to kill them, one by one, they would become aware only after most of the flock had been slaughtered, thought the boy.
They trust me, and they've forgotten how to rely on their own instincts, because I lead them to nourishment. The boy was surprised at his thoughts.
Maybe the church, with the sycamore growing from within, had been haunted. It had caused him to have the same dream for a second time, and it was causing him to feel anger toward his faithful companions.
He drank a bit from the wine that remained from his dinner of the night before, and he gathered his jacket closer to his body.
He knew that a few hours from now, with the sun at its zenith, the heat would be so great that he would not be able to lead his flock across the fields.
It was the time of day when all of Spain slept during the summer. The heat lasted until nightfall, and all that time he had to carry his jacket.
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This story, dazzling in its simplicity and wisdom, is about an Andalusian shepherd boy named Santiago who travels fro I have a good faith belief that use of the material in the manner complained of is not authorized by the copyright owner, its agent, or law.
A statement, made under penalty of perjury, that the above information is accurate, and that you are the copyright owner or are authorized to act on behalf of the owner.
We check all files by special algorithm to prevent their re-upload. Guest 17 days ago this was a great book and honestly its one of the most powerful books in history, i loved every part of it and the way it ended was a bit disappointing but "MAKTUB" Comment.
Guest 8 months ago The beginning was interesting and thought provoking, but the midway to the ending was very disappointing.
Guest 10 months ago Page numbers please Comment. Guest a year ago Authors name is misspelled several times.
Guest a year ago Why do you all keep spoiling the end for everyone else?? Books by same genres: From then on, he would make his own decisions.
And don't forget the language of omens. And, above all, don't forget to follow your destiny through to its conclusion. The lad wandered through the desert for forty days, and finally came upon a beautiful castle, high atop a mountain.
It was there that the wise man lived. The wise man conversed with everyone, and the boy had to wait for two hours before it was his turn to be given the man's attention.
He suggested that the boy look around the palace and return in two hours. As you wander around, carry this spoon with you without allowing the oil to spill.
After two hours, he returned to the room where the wise man was. Did you see the garden that it took the master gardener ten years to create?
Did you notice the beautiful parchments in my library? His only concern had been not to spill the oil that the wise man had entrusted to him.
He saw the gardens, the mountains all around him, the beauty of the flowers, and the taste with which everything had been selected.
Upon returning to the wise man, he related in detail everything he had seen. He had understood the story the old king had told him.
A shepherd may like to travel, but he should never forget about his sheep. The old man looked at the boy and, with his hands held together, made several strange gestures over the boy's head.
Then, taking his sheep, he walked away. At the highest point in Tarifa there is an old fort, built by the Moors. From atop its walls, one can catch a glimpse of Africa.
Melchizedek, the king of Salem, sat on the wall of the fort that afternoon, and felt the levanter blowing in his face. The sheep fidgeted nearby, uneasy with their new owner and excited by so much change.
All they wanted was food and water. Melchizedek watched a small ship that was plowing its way out of the port.
He would never again see the boy, just as he had never seen Abraham again after having charged him his one-tenth fee. That was his work.
The gods should not have desires, because they don't have destinies. But the king of Salem hoped desperately that the boy would be successful.
It's too bad that he's quickly going to forget my name, he thought. I should have repeated it for him. Then when he spoke about me he would say that I am Melchizedek, the king of Salem.
He looked to the skies, feeling a bit abashed, and said, "I know it's the vanity of vanities, as you said, my Lord. But an old king sometimes has to take some pride in himself.
He was sitting in a bar very much like the other bars he had seen along the narrow streets of Tangier. Some men were smoking from a gigantic pipe that they passed from one to the other.
In just a few hours he had seen men walking hand in hand, women with their faces covered, and priests that climbed to the tops of towers and chanted — as everyone about him went to their knees and placed their foreheads on the ground.
As a child in church, he had always looked at the image of Saint Santiago Matamoros on his white horse, his sword unsheathed, and figures such as these kneeling at his feet.
The boy felt ill and terribly alone. The infidels had an evil look about them. Besides this, in the rush of his travels he had forgotten a detail, just one detail, which could keep him from his treasure for a long time: The owner of the bar approached him, and the boy pointed to a drink that had been served at the next table.
It turned out to be a bitter tea. The boy preferred wine. But he didn't need to worry about that right now. What he had to be concerned about was his treasure, and how he was going to go about getting it.
The sale of his sheep had left him with enough money in his pouch, and the boy knew that in money there was magic; whoever has money is never really alone.
Before long, maybe in just a few days, he would be at the Pyramids. An old man, with a breastplate of gold, wouldn't have lied just to acquire six sheep.
The old man had spoken about signs and omens, and, as the boy was crossing the strait, he had thought about omens.
Yes, the old man had known what he was talking about: He had discovered that the presence of a certain bird meant that a snake was nearby, and that a certain shrub was a sign that there was water in the area.
The sheep had taught him that. If God leads the sheep so well, he will also lead a man, he thought, and that made him feel better.
The tea seemed less bitter. The boy was relieved. He was thinking about omens, and someone had appeared. The new arrival was a young man in Western dress, but the color of his skin suggested he was from this city.
He was about the same age and height as the boy. We're only two hours from Spain. I hate this tea. He almost began to tell about his treasure, but decided not to do so.
If he did, it was possible that the Arab would want a part of it as payment for taking him there. He remembered what the old man had said about offering something you didn't even have yet.
I can pay you to serve as my guide. The boy noticed that the owner of the bar stood nearby, listening attentively to their conversation.
He felt uneasy at the man's presence. But he had found a guide, and didn't want to miss out on an opportunity. I need to know whether you have enough.
But he trusted in the old man, who had said that, when you really want something, the universe always conspires in your favor. He took his money from his pouch and showed it to the young man.
The owner of the bar came over and looked, as well. The two men exchanged some words in Arabic, and the bar owner seemed irritated.
He got up to pay the bill, but the owner grabbed him and began to speak to him in an angry stream of words. The boy was strong, and wanted to retaliate, but he was in a foreign country.
His new friend pushed the owner aside, and pulled the boy outside with him. This is a port, and every port has its thieves.
He had helped him out in a dangerous situation. He took out his money and counted it. Everywhere there were stalls with items for sale.
They reached the center of a large plaza where the market was held. There were thousands of people there, arguing, selling, and buying; vegetables for sale amongst daggers, and carpets displayed alongside tobacco.
But the boy never took his eye off his new friend. After all, he had all his money. He thought about asking him to give it back, but decided that would be unfriendly.
He knew nothing about the customs of the strange land he was in. He knew he was stronger than his friend. Suddenly, there in the midst of all that confusion, he saw the most beautiful sword he had ever seen.
The scabbard was embossed in silver, and the handle was black and encrusted with precious stones.
The boy promised himself that, when he returned from Egypt, he would buy that sword. Then he realized that he had been distracted for a few moments, looking at the sword.
His heart squeezed, as if his chest had suddenly compressed it. He was afraid to look around, because he knew what he would find.
He continued to look at the beautiful sword for a bit longer, until he summoned the courage to turn around. All around him was the market, with people coming and going, shouting and buying, and the aroma of strange foods.
The boy wanted to believe that his friend had simply become separated from him by accident. He decided to stay right there and await his return.
As he waited, a priest climbed to the top of a nearby tower and began his chant; everyone in the market fell to their knees, touched their foreheads to the ground, and took up the chant.
Then, like a colony of worker ants, they dismantled their stalls and left. The sun began its departure, as well.
The boy watched it through its trajectory for some time, until it was hidden behind the white houses surrounding the plaza.
He recalled that when the sun had risen that morning, he was on another continent, still a shepherd with sixty sheep, and looking forward to meeting with a girl.
That morning he had known everything that was going to happen to him as he walked through the familiar fields. But now, as the sun began to set, he was in a different country, a stranger in a strange land, where he couldn't even speak the language.
He was no longer a shepherd, and he had nothing, not even the money to return and start everything over.
All this happened between sunrise and sunset, the boy thought. He was feeling sorry for himself, and lamenting the fact that his life could have changed so suddenly and so drastically.
He was so ashamed that he wanted to cry. He had never even wept in front of his own sheep. But the marketplace was empty, and he was far from home, so he wept.
He wept because God was unfair, and because this was the way God repaid those who believed in their dreams. When I had my sheep, I was happy, and I made those around me happy.
People saw me coming and welcomed me, he thought. But now I'm sad and alone. I'm going to become bitter and distrustful of people because one person betrayed me.
I'm going to hate those who have found their treasure because I never found mine. And I'm going to hold on to what little I have, because I'm too insignificant to conquer the world.
He opened his pouch to see what was left of his possessions; maybe there was a bit left of the sandwich he had eaten on the ship.
But all he found was the heavy book, his jacket, and the two stones the old man had given him. As he looked at the stones, he felt relieved for some reason.
He had exchanged six sheep for two precious stones that had been taken from a gold breastplate. He could sell the stones and buy a return ticket.
But this time I'll be smarter, the boy thought, removing them from the pouch so he could put them in his pocket. This was a port town, and the only truthful thing his friend had told him was that port towns are full of thieves.
Now he understood why the owner of the bar had been so upset: They were his treasure. Just handling them made him feel better.
They reminded him of the old man. The boy was trying to understand the truth of what the old man had said. There he was in the empty marketplace, without a cent to his name, and with not a sheep to guard through the night.
But the stones were proof that he had met with a king — a king who knew of the boy's past. The old man had said to ask very clear questions, and to do that, the boy had to know what he wanted.
So, he asked if the old man's blessing was still with him. He took out one of the stones. He stuck his hand into the pouch, and felt around for one of the stones.
As he did so, both of them pushed through a hole in the pouch and fell to the ground. The boy had never even noticed that there was a hole in his pouch.
He knelt down to find Urim and Thummim and put them back in the pouch. But as he saw them lying there on the ground, another phrase came to his mind.
The boy smiled to himself. He picked up the two stones and put them back in his pouch. He didn't consider mending the hole — the stones could fall through any time they wanted.
He had learned that there were certain things one shouldn't ask about, so as not to flee from one's own destiny. But the stones had told him that the old man was still with him, and that made him feel more confident.
He looked around at the empty plaza again, feeling less desperate than before. This wasn't a strange place; it was a new one. After all, what he had always wanted was just that: Even if he never got to the Pyramids, he had already traveled farther than any shepherd he knew.
Oh, if they only knew how different things are just two hours by ship from where they are, he thought.
Although his new world at the moment was just an empty marketplace, he had already seen it when it was teeming with life, and he would never forget it.
He remembered the sword. It hurt him a bit to think about it, but he had never seen one like it before. As he mused about these things, he realized that he had to choose between thinking of himself as the poor victim of a thief and as an adventurer in quest of his treasure.
He was shaken into wakefulness by someone. He had fallen asleep in the middle of the marketplace, and life in the plaza was about to resume.
Looking around, he sought his sheep, and then realized that he was in a new world. But instead of being saddened, he was happy. He no longer had to seek out food and water for the sheep; he could go in search of his treasure, instead.
He had not a cent in his pocket, but he had faith. He had decided, the night before, that he would be as much an adventurer as the ones he had admired in books.
He walked slowly through the market. The merchants were assembling their stalls, and the boy helped a candy seller to do his.
The candy seller had a smile on his face: His smile reminded the boy of the old man — the mysterious old king he had met. He's doing it because it's what he wants to do," thought the boy.
He realized that he could do the same thing the old man had done — sense whether a person was near to or far from his destiny. Just by looking at them.
It's easy, and yet I've never done it before, he thought. When the stall was assembled, the candy seller offered the boy the first sweet he had made for the day.
The boy thanked him, ate it, and went on his way. When he had gone only a short distance, he realized that, while they were erecting the stall, one of them had spoken Arabic and the other Spanish.
And they had understood each other perfectly well. There must be a language that doesn't depend on words, the boy thought.
I've already had that experience with my sheep, and now it's happening with people. He was learning a lot of new things. Some of them were things that he had already experienced, and weren't really new, but that he had never perceived before.
And he hadn't perceived them because he had become accustomed to them. If I can learn to understand this language without words, I can learn to understand the world.
Relaxed and unhurried, he resolved that he would walk through the narrow streets of Tangier. Only in that way would he be able to read the omens.
He knew it would require a lot of patience, but shepherds know all about patience. Once again he saw that, in that strange land, he was applying the same lessons he had learned with his sheep.
The crystal merchant awoke with the day, and felt the same anxiety that he felt every morning. He had been in the same place for thirty years: Now it was too late to change anything — the only thing he had ever learned to do was to buy and sell crystal glassware.
There had been a time when many people knew of his shop: Arab merchants, French and English geologists, German soldiers who were always well-heeled.
In those days it had been wonderful to be selling crystal, and he had thought how he would become rich, and have beautiful women at his side as he grew older.
But, as time passed, Tangier had changed. The nearby city of Ceuta had grown faster than Tangier, and business had fallen off.
Neighbors moved away, and there remained only a few small shops on the hill. And no one was going to climb the hill just to browse through a few small shops.
But the crystal merchant had no choice. He had lived thirty years of his life buying and selling crystal pieces, and now it was too late to do anything else.
He spent the entire morning observing the infrequent comings and goings in the street. He had done this for years, and knew the schedule of everyone who passed.
But, just before lunchtime, a boy stopped in front of the shop. He was dressed normally, but the practiced eyes of the crystal merchant could see that the boy had no money to spend.
Nevertheless, the merchant decided to delay his lunch for a few minutes until the boy moved on. A card hanging in the doorway announced that several languages were spoken in the shop.
The boy saw a man appear behind the counter. In his pouch, he had his jacket — he certainly wasn't going to need it in the desert.
Taking the jacket out, he began to clean the glasses. In half an hour, he had cleaned all the glasses in the window, and, as he was doing so, two customers had entered the shop and bought some crystal.
When he had completed the cleaning, he asked the man for something to eat. He put a sign on the door, and they went to a small cafe nearby.
As they sat down at the only table in the place, the crystal merchant laughed. And both you and I needed to cleanse our minds of negative thoughts. Two customers came in today while you were working, and that's a good omen.
But they really don't know what they're saying. Just as I hadn't realized that for so many years I had been speaking a language without words to my sheep.
In return, I need money to get to Egypt tomorrow. There are thousands of kilometers of desert between here and there. No sound from the bazaars, no arguments among the merchants, no men climbing to the towers to chant.
No hope, no adventure, no old kings or destinies, no treasure, and no Pyramids. It was as if the world had fallen silent because the boy's soul had.
He sat there, staring blankly through the door of the cafe, wishing that he had died, and that everything would end forever at that moment.
The merchant looked anxiously at the boy. All the joy he had seen that morning had suddenly disappeared. The boy said nothing.
He got up, adjusted his clothing, and picked up his pouch. And after another long silence, he added, "I need money to buy some sheep. The merchant spent the entire day mumbling behind the counter, telling the boy to be careful with the pieces and not to break anything.
But he stayed with the job because the merchant, although he was an old grouch, treated him fairly; the boy received a good commission for each piece he sold, and had already been able to put some money aside.
That morning he had done some calculating: But that's the way life is with sheep and with shepherds. He was selling better than ever.
Why ask more out of life? Because life wants you to achieve your destiny," the old king had said. But the merchant understood what the boy had said.
The boy's very presence in the shop was an omen, and, as time passed and money was pouring into the cash drawer, he had no regrets about having hired the boy.
The boy was being paid more money than he deserved, because the merchant, thinking that sales wouldn't amount to much, had offered the boy a high commission rate.
He had assumed he would soon return to his sheep. The treasure was now nothing but a painful memory, and he tried to avoid thinking about it. You could build one in your backyard.
Two days later, the merchant spoke to the boy about the display. If he makes a buying mistake, it doesn't affect him much. But we two have to live with our mistakes.
We have to take advantage when luck is on our side, and do as much to help it as it's doing to help us.
It's called the principle of favorability. Then he said, "The Prophet gave us the Koran, and left us just five obligations to satisfy during our lives.
The most important is to believe only in the one true God. The others are to pray five times a day, fast during Ramadan, and be charitable to the poor.
His eyes filled with tears as he spoke of the Prophet. He was a devout man, and, even with all his impatience, he wanted to live his life in accordance with Muslim law.
We are obliged, at least once in our lives, to visit the holy city of Mecca. When I was young, all I wanted to do was put together enough money to start this shop.
I thought that someday I'd be rich, and could go to Mecca. I began to make some money, but I could never bring myself to leave someone in charge of the shop; the crystals are delicate things.
At the same time, people were passing my shop all the time, heading for Mecca. Some of them were rich pilgrims, traveling in caravans with servants and camels, but most of the people making the pilgrimage were poorer than I.
They placed the symbols of the pilgrimage on the doors of their houses. One of them, a cobbler who made his living mending boots, said that he had traveled for almost a year through the desert, but that he got more tired when he had to walk through the streets of Tangier buying his leather.
That's what helps me face these days that are all the same, these mute crystals on the shelves, and lunch and dinner at that same horrible cafe.
I'm afraid that if my dream is realized, I'll have no reason to go on living. I just want to dream about Mecca.
I've already imagined a thousand times crossing the desert, arriving at the Plaza of the Sacred Stone, the seven times I walk around it before allowing myself to touch it.
I've already imagined the people who would be at my side, and those in front of me, and the conversations and prayers we would share. But I'm afraid that it would all be a disappointment, so I prefer just to dream about it.
Not everyone can see his dreams come true in the same way. Two more months passed, and the shelf brought many customers into the crystal shop.
The boy estimated that, if he worked for six more months, he could return to Spain and buy sixty sheep, and yet another sixty. In less than a year, he would have doubled his flock, and he would be able to do business with the Arabs, because he was now able to speak their strange language.
Since that morning in the marketplace, he had never again made use of Urim and Thummim, because Egypt was now just as distant a dream for him as was Mecca for the merchant.
Anyway, the boy had become happy in his work, and thought all the time about the day when he would disembark at Tarifa as a winner.
The boy knew, and was now working toward it. Maybe it was his treasure to have wound up in that strange land, met up with a thief, and doubled the size of his flock without spending a cent.
He was proud of himself. He had learned some important things, like how to deal in crystal, and about the language without words.
One afternoon he had seen a man at the top of the hill, complaining that it was impossible to find a decent place to get something to drink after such a climb.
The boy, accustomed to recognizing omens, spoke to the merchant. The people will enjoy the tea and want to buy the glasses.
I have been told that beauty is the great seducer of men. I need to buy my sheep back, so I have to earn the money to do so. I know good crystal from bad, and everything else there is to know about crystal.
I know its dimensions and how it behaves. If we serve tea in crystal, the shop is going to expand. And then I'll have to change my way of life.
Before you came, I was thinking about how much time I had wasted in the same place, while my friends had moved on, and either went bankrupt or did better than they had before.
It made me very depressed. Now, I can see that it hasn't been too bad. The shop is exactly the size I always wanted it to be. I don't want to change anything, because I don't know how to deal with change.
I'm used to the way I am. The old man continued, "You have been a real blessing to me. Today, I understand something I didn't see before: I don't want anything else in life.
But you are forcing me to look at wealth and at horizons I have never known. Now that I have seen them, and now that I see how immense my possibilities are, I'm going to feel worse than I did before you arrived.
Because I know the things I should be able to accomplish, and I don't want to do so. They went on smoking the pipe for a while as the sun began to set.
They were conversing in Arabic, and the boy was proud of himself for being able to do so. There had been a time when he thought that his sheep could teach him everything he needed to know about the world.
But they could never have taught him Arabic. There are probably other things in the world that the sheep can't teach me, thought the boy as he regarded the old merchant.
All they ever do, really, is look for food and water. And maybe it wasn't that they were teaching me, but that I was learning from them.
Sometimes, there's just no way to hold back the river. The men climbed the hill, and they were tired when they reached the top.
But there they saw a crystal shop that offered refreshing mint tea. They went in to drink the tea, which was served in beautiful crystal glasses.
The other man remarked that tea was always more delicious when it was served in crystal, because the aroma was retained.
The third said that it was a tradition in the Orient to use crystal glasses for tea because it had magical powers. Before long, the news spread, and a great many people began to climb the hill to see the shop that was doing something new in a trade that was so old.
Other shops were opened that served tea in crystal, but they weren't at the top of a hill, and they had little business.
Eventually, the merchant had to hire two more employees. He began to import enormous quantities of tea, along with his crystal, and his shop was sought out by men and women with a thirst for things new.
And, in that way, the months passed. The boy awoke before dawn. It had been eleven months and nine days since he had first set foot on the African continent.
He dressed in his Arabian clothing of white linen, bought especially for this day. He put his headcloth in place and secured it with a ring made of camel skin.
Wearing his new sandals, he descended the stairs silently. The city was still sleeping. He prepared himself a sandwich and drank some hot tea from a crystal glass.
Then he sat in the sun-filled doorway, smoking the hookah. He smoked in silence, thinking of nothing, and listening to the sound of the wind that brought the scent of the desert.
When he had finished his smoke, he reached into one of his pockets, and sat there for a few moments, regarding what he had withdrawn. It was a bundle of money.
Enough to buy himself a hundred and twenty sheep, a return ticket, and a license to import products from Africa into his own country.
He waited patiently for the merchant to awaken and open the shop. Then the two went off to have some more tea. And you have the money you need to go to Mecca.
Then he turned to the boy. But you know that I'm not going to go to Mecca. Just as you know that you're not going to buy your sheep. And he gave the boy his blessing.
The boy went to his room and packed his belongings. They filled three sacks. As he was leaving, he saw, in the comer of the room, his old shepherd's pouch.
It was bunched up, and he had hardly thought of it for a long time. As he took his j acket out of the pouch, thinking to give it to someone in the street, the two stones fell to the floor.
It made the boy think of the old king, and it startled him to realize how long it had been since he had thought of him.
For nearly a year, he had been working incessantly, thinking only of putting aside enough money so that he could return to Spain with pride.
He had worked hard for a year, and the omens were that it was time to go. I'm going to go back to doing just what I did before, the boy thought.
Even though the sheep didn't teach me to speak Arabic. But the sheep had taught him something even more important: It was the language of enthusiasm, of things accomplished with love and purpose, and as part of a search for something believed in and desired.
Tangier was no longer a strange city, and he felt that, just as he had conquered this place, he could conquer the world. But the old king hadn't said anything about being robbed, or about endless deserts, or about people who know what their dreams are but don't want to realize them.
The old king hadn't told him that the Pyramids were just a pile of stones, or that anyone could build one in his backyard. And he had forgotten to mention that, when you have enough money to buy a flock larger than the one you had before, you should buy it.
The boy picked up his pouch and put it with his other things. He went down the stairs and found the merchant waiting on a foreign couple, while two other customers walked about the shop, drinking tea from crystal glasses.
It was more activity than usual for this time of the morning. From where he stood, he saw for the first time that the old merchant's hair was very much like the hair of the old king.
He remembered the smile of the candy seller, on his first day in Tangier, when he had nothing to eat and nowhere to go — that smile had also been like the old king's smile.
It's almost as if he had been here and left his mark, he thought. And yet, none of these people has ever met the old king.
On the other hand, he said that he always appeared to help those who are trying to realize their destiny. He left without saying good-bye to the crystal merchant.
He didn't want to cry with the other people there. He was going to miss the place and all the good things he had learned. He was more confident in himself, though, and felt as though he could conquer the world.
He had worked for an entire year to make a dream come true, and that dream, minute by minute, was becoming less important.
Maybe because that wasn't really his dream. But as he held Urim and Thurnmim in his hand, they had transmitted to him the strength and will of the old king.
By coincidence — or maybe it was an omen, the boy thought — he came to the bar he had entered on his first day there.
The thief wasn't there, and the owner brought him a cup of tea. I can always go back to being a shepherd, the boy thought.
I learned how to care for sheep, and I haven't forgotten how that's done. But maybe I'll never have another chance to get to the Pyramids in Egypt.
The old man wore a breastplate of gold, and he knew about my past. He really was a king, a wise king. The hills of Andalusia were only two hours away, but there was an entire desert between him and the Pyramids.
Yet the boy felt that there was another way to regard his situation: I know why I want to get back to my flock, he thought. I understand sheep; they're no longer a problem, and they can be good friends.
On the other hand, I don't know if the desert can be a friend, and it's in the desert that I have to search for my treasure.
If I don't find it, I can always go home. I finally have enough money, and all the time I need. He suddenly felt tremendously happy. He could always go back to being a shepherd.
He could always become a crystal salesman again. Maybe the world had other hidden treasures, but he had a dream, and he had met with a king.
That doesn't happen to just anyone! He was planning as he left the bar. He had remembered that one of the crystal merchant's suppliers transported his crystal by means of caravans that crossed the desert.
He held Urim and Thummim in his hand; because of those two stones, he was once again on the way to his treasure.
What could it cost to go over to the supplier's warehouse and find out if the Pyramids were really that far away? The Englishman was sitting on a bench in a structure that smelled of animals, sweat, and dust; it was part warehouse, part corral.
I never thought I'd end up in a place like this, he thought, as he leafed through the pages of a chemical journal. Ten years at the university, and here I am in a corral.
But he had to move on. He believed in omens. All his life and all his studies were aimed at finding the one true language of the universe.
First he had studied Esperanto, then the world's religions, and now it was alchemy. He knew how to speak Esperanto, he understood all the major religions well, but he wasn't yet an alchemist.
He had unraveled the truths behind important questions, but his studies had taken him to a point beyond which he could not seem to go.
He had tried in vain to establish a relationship with an alchemist. But the alchemists were strange people, who thought only about themselves, and almost always refused to help him.
Who knows, maybe they had failed to discover the secret of the Master Work — the Philosopher's Stone — and for this reason kept their knowledge to themselves.
He had already spent much of the fortune left to him by his father, fruitlessly seeking the Philosopher's Stone. He had spent enormous amounts of time at the great libraries of the world, and had purchased all the rarest and most important volumes on alchemy.
In one he had read that, many years ago, a famous Arabian alchemist had visited Europe. It was said that he was more than two hundred years old, and that he had discovered the Philosopher's Stone and the Elixir of Life.
The Englishman had been profoundly impressed by the story. But he would never have thought it more than just a myth, had not a friend of his — retorting from an archaeological expedition in the desert — told him about an Arab that was possessed of exceptional powers.
He canceled all his commitments and pulled together the most important of his books, and now here he was, sitting inside a dusty, smelly warehouse.
Outside, a huge caravan was being prepared for a crossing of the Sahara, and was scheduled to pass through Al-Fayoum. I'm going to find that damned alchemist, the Englishman thought.
And the odor of the animals became a bit more tolerable. A young Arab, also loaded down with baggage, entered, and greeted the Englishman. He didn't want any conversation at this point.
What he needed to do was review all he had learned over the years, because the alchemist would certainly put him to the test.
The young Arab took out a book and began to read. The book was written in Spanish. That's good, thought the Englishman. He spoke Spanish better than Arabic, and, if this boy was going to Al-Fayoum, there would be someone to talk to when there were no other important things to do.
He still had some doubts about the decision he had made. But he was able to understand one thing: When someone makes a decision, he is really diving into a strong current that will carry him to places he had never dreamed of when he first made the decision.
When I decided to seek out my treasure, I never imagined that I'd wind up working in a crystal shop, he thought. And joining this caravan may have been my decision, but where it goes is going to be a mystery tome.
Nearby was the Englishman, reading a book. He seemed unfriendly, and had looked irritated when the boy had entered.
They might even have become friends, but the Englishman closed off the conversation. The boy closed his book. He felt that he didn't want to do anything that might make him look like the Englishman.
He took Urim and Thummim from his pocket, and began playing with them. The stranger shouted, "Urim and Thummim!
But those who know about such things would know that those are Urim and Thummim. I didn't know that they had them in this part of the world. The stranger didn't answer; instead, he put his hand in his pocket, and took out two stones that were the same as the boy's.
It was shepherds who were the first to recognize a king that the rest of the world refused to acknowledge. So, it's not surprising that kings would talk to shepherds.
The same book that taught me about Urim and Thummim. These stones were the only form of divination permitted by God.
The priests carried them in a golden breastplate. I am in search of that universal language, among other things.
That's why I'm here. I have to find a man who knows that universal language. It's with those words that the universal language is written.
And he asked the boy if he, too, were in search of the alchemist. But the Englishman appeared not to attach any importance to it.
The desert is a capricious lady, and sometimes she drives men crazy. In the crowd were women, children, and a number of men with swords at their belts and rifles slung on their shoulders.
The Englishman had several suitcases filled with books. There was a babble of noise, and the leader had to repeat himself several times for everyone to understand what he was saying.
But the only God I serve is Allah, and in his name I swear that I will do everything possible once again to win out over the desert.
But I want each and every one of you to swear by the God you believe in that you will follow my orders no matter what. In the desert, disobedience means death.
Each was swearing quietly to his or her own God. The boy swore to Jesus Christ. The Englishman said nothing. And the murmur lasted longer than a simple vow would have.
The people were also praying to heaven for protection. A long note was sounded on a bugle, and everyone mounted up.
The boy and the Englishman had bought camels, and climbed uncertainly onto their backs. The boy felt sorry for the Englishman's camel, loaded down as he was with the cases of books.
The boy knew what he was about to describe, though: The closer one gets to realizing his destiny, the more that destiny becomes his true reason for being, thought the boy.
The caravan moved toward the east. It traveled during the morning, halted when the sun was at its strongest, and resumed late in the afternoon.
The boy spoke very little with the Englishman, who spent most of his time with his books. The boy observed in silence the progress of the animals and people across the desert.
Now everything was quite different from how it was that day they had set out: But, in the desert, there was only the sound of the eternal wind, and of the hoofbeats of the animals.
Even the guides spoke very little to one another. Whenever he saw the sea, or a fire, he fell silent, impressed by their elemental force.
I've learned things from the sheep, and I've learned things from crystal, he thought. I can learn something from the desert, too. It seems old and wise.
The wind never stopped, and the boy remembered the day he had sat at the fort in Tarifa with this same wind blowing in his face. It reminded him of the wool from his sheep.
Creatures like the sheep, that are used to traveling, know about moving on. Perhaps to a baker, or to another shepherd who could read and could tell her exciting stories — after all, he probably wasn't the only one.
But he was excited at his intuitive understanding of the camel driver's comment: The boy was beginning to understand that intuition is really a sudden immersion of the soul into the universal current of life, where the histories of all people are connected, and we are able to know everything, because it's all written there.
The desert was all sand in some stretches, and rocky in others. When the caravan was blocked by a boulder, it had to go around it; if there was a large rocky area, they had to make a major detour.
If the sand was too fine for the animals' hooves, they sought a way where the sand was more substantial. In some places, the ground was covered with the salt of dried-up lakes.
The animals balked at such places, and the camel drivers were forced to dismount and unburden their charges. The drivers carried the freight themselves over such treacherous footing, and then reloaded the camels.
If a guide were to fall ill or die, the camel drivers would draw lots and appoint a new one. But all this happened for one basic reason: Once obstacles were overcome, it returned to its course, sighting on a star that indicated the location of the oasis.
When the people saw that star shining in the morning sky, they knew they were on the right course toward water, palm trees, shelter, and other people.
It was only the Englishman who was unaware of all this; he was, for the most part, immersed in reading his books.
The boy, too, had his book, and he had tried to read it during the first few days of the journey. But he found it much more interesting to observe the caravan and listen to the wind.
As soon as he had learned to know his camel better, and to establish a relationship with him, he threw the book away. Although the boy had developed a superstition that each time he opened the book he would learn something important, he decided it was an unnecessary burden.
He became friendly with the camel driver who traveled alongside him. At night, as they sat around the fire, the boy related to the driver his adventures as a shepherd.
During one of these conversations, the driver told of his own life. One year, when the crop was the best ever, we all went to Mecca, and I satisfied the only unmet obligation in my life.
I could die happily, and that made me feel good. It was something that I thought could happen only to others, never to me. My neighbors feared they would lose all their olive trees in the flood, and my wife was afraid that we would lose our children.
I thought that everything I owned would be destroyed. So now I'm a camel driver. But that disaster taught me to understand the word of Allah: But this fear evaporates when we understand that our life stories and the history of the world were written by the same hand.
One always had something that the other needed — as if everything were indeed written by one hand. As they sat around the fire, the camel drivers exchanged information about windstorms, and told stories about the desert.
At other times, mysterious, hooded men would appear; they were Bedouins who did surveillance along the caravan route. They provided warnings about thieves and barbarian tribes.
They came in silence and departed the same way, dressed in black garments that showed only their eyes.Du hast noch kein Konto? There was a problem filtering reviews right now. ComiXology Thousands of Digital Comics. June 21, Sold by: Allerdings verhindern Labelprobleme die Veröffentlichung. Alexa Actionable Analytics for the Web. Please try again later. Fußball premier league live who viewed this item also viewed. This book was in like-new condition. Top Reviews Most recent Top Reviews. Write a customer review. Write a customer review. Klar dass bei Alchemists Kontakten die Gästeliste lang und eindrucksvoll ausfällt. Um so verwunderlicher, dass Alan Maman, geboren und aufgewachsen in Beverly Hills, zu einem der einflussreichsten Produzenten des Hip Hop -Genres aufsteigt. There was a greektown casino players club points filtering reviews right now.