The Alchemist – (Part 3/?)

Que trata de la novela escrita por Paulo Coelho


Seguimos leyendo ‘El Alquimista‘. La gran razón de su vida: viajar.

🌴🐑🐫☀🔥🌴🐑🐫☀🔥🌴🐑🐫☀🔥

At the break of dawn the shepherd positioned the sheep according to the direction of the sun. “They never have to make a decision”, he thought. “Perhaps that’s why they’re always together with me.” The sheep only felt the need to drink and eat. As long as the boy knew the best pastures of Andalusia, they would always be his friends, even when the days were always the same, with long hours spent dragging along from sunrise to sunset, even when they had never read a single book in their short lives, and weren’t familiar with the language of the people who told of the new events and happenings in the villages. They were content with water and food, and that was enough for them. In exchange for that, they generously offered their wool, their company, and, once in a while, their meat.

“If today I turned into a monster and decided to kill them one after the other, they would only realize it after almost the whole flock had been wiped out”, the boy thought. “Because they trust me, and they’ve forgotten to trust their own instincts. Just because I lead them to nourishment and food.” The boy began to surprise himself with his own thoughts. Perhaps the church, with that one sycamore tree that grew inside of it, was bewitched. It had made him have the same dream for the second time, and it was causing him a sensation of rage against his always faithful, loyal companions. He drank a little bit of wine left over from the previous dinner, and tightened the jacket around his body. He knew that within a few hours, with the sun at its peak, the heat would be so intense that he would no longer be able to lead the sheep across the countryside. It was the hour in which all of Spain slept in summer. The heat lasted until the night, and during all this time, he had to carry his jacket. Nevertheless, when he thought about complaining about the weight, he always remembered that thanks to the jacket he hadn’t felt cold during the morning.

“We should always be prepared for weather-related surprises”, he thought, and he felt grateful for the weight of the jacket.

The jacket had a purpose, and the boy had one as well. In his two years on the plains of Andalusia, he already knew by heart all the cities of the region, and this was the great purpose of his life: travelling. He was thinking about explaining to the girl this time why a simple shepherd knows how to read: up until he was sixteen years old he had been in the seminary. His parents wanted him to be a priest, and the cause of pride for a simple peasant family, that worked to earn just enough for food and water, like his sheep. He studied Latin, Spanish, and theology. But ever since he was young, he dreamed of seeing the world, and this was much more important than learning about God or the sins of mankind. One evening, while visiting his family, he had gathered up the courage and had told his father that he didn’t want to be a priest. He wanted to travel.

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