[meteorite-list] narcisse

[Dr. Svend Buhl]

Habibi and list,

Habibi wrote:
> and i hope one of the frensh list member will make the 
translation

here we go:

The Prologue from the book, The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho:


"The alchemist knew the legend of Narcissus, a youth 
who daily knelt beside a lake to contemplate his own beauty. 
He was so fascinated by himself that, one morning, he fell 
into the lake and drowned. At the spot where he fell, a flower 
was born, which was called the narcissus. 
But this was not how the author of the book ended the 
story. 
He said that when Narcissus died, the Goddesses of the 
Forest appeared and found the lake, which had been fresh 
water, transformed into a lake of salty tears. 
"Why do you weep?" the Goddesses asked. 
"I weep for Narcissus," the lake replied. 
"Ah, it is no surprise that you weep for Narcissus," they 
said, "for though we always pursued him in the forest, you 
alone could contemplate his beauty close at hand." 
"But..... was Narcissus beautiful?" the lake asked. 
"Who better than you to know that?" the Goddesses said 
in wonder, "After all, it was by your banks that he knelt each 
day to contemplate himself!!" 
The lake was silent for some time. 
Finally it said: 
"I weep for Narcissus, but I never noticed that Narcissus 
was beautiful. I weep because, each time he knelt beside my 
banks, I could see, in the depths of his eyes, my own beauty 
reflected."
"What a lovely story," the alchemist thought."

indeed

Svend

www.niger-meteorite-recon.de



"aziz habibi" <aziz_habibi at hotmail.com> schrieb am 25.11.04 15:04:33:

hello list and happy thanksgiving to all

it's a nice day and deserve a nice story
i swear to you that i need a GPS  to find my self in all this emails.
and for this day here is  a nice story that resume the situation.
but in french and my english is not good enough to translate this beauty.
its from oscar wild  and i hope one of the frensh list member will make the 
translation
all the best
aziz

""L’alchimiste connaissait la legende  de narcisse ,  ce beau jeune homme 
qui allait tous les jours contempler sa propre beaute dans l’eau d’un lac .
Il etais  si fascine par son image qu’un jour il tomba dans le lac et s’y 
noya. A l’endroit ou il etait tombe , naquit une fleur qui fut appeleè  
narcisse.
Mais ce n’etait pas de cette maniere qu’oscar wilde  terminait l’histoire.
Il  disait  qu’a la mort de narcisse  les oreades, divinites des bois 
,etaient venues au bord de ce lac  d’eau douce et l’avaient trouve tansforme 
en urne de larmes ameres.
«  pourquoi pleures-tu ? demanderent les oreades.
_ je pleure pour narcisse, repondit le lac.
_ voila qui ne nous etonne guere, dirent-elles alors , nous avions  beau 
etre toutes constamment a sa poursuite dans les bois , tu etais le seul a 
pouvoir contempler de pres sa beaute.
_narcisse etait donc beau ? demanda le lac.
_ qui, mieux que toi , pouvait le savoir ? repliquerent  les oreades, 
surprises , c’etait bien sur  tes rives , tout de meme  , qu’il se penchait 
chaque jour.
Le lac resta un  moment sans rien dire , puis :
«  je pleure pour narcisse, mais je ne m’etais jamais apercu que  narcisse 
etais beau.je pleure pour narcisse  parce que ,chaque fois qu’il se penchait 
sur mes rives, je pouvais voir, au fond de ses yeux, le reflet de ma propre 
beaute » ».

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