Reading 191, from Paulo Coelho

“The falcon’s beak carries bits of me, myself,” the desert said. “For years, I
care for his game, feeding it with the little water that I have, and then I show
him where the game is. And, one day, as I enjoy the fact that his game
thrives on my surface, the falcon dives out of the sky, and takes away what
I’ve created.”
“But that’s why you created the game in the first place,” the boy answered.
“To nourish the falcon. And the falcon then nourishes man. And, eventually,
man will nourish your sands, where the game will once again flourish. That’s
how the world goes.”
“So is that what love is?”
“Yes, that’s what love is. It’s what makes the game become the falcon, the
falcon become man, and man, in his turn, the desert. It’s what turns lead
into gold, and makes the gold return to the earth.”
“I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” the desert said.
“But you can at least understand that somewhere in your sands there is a
woman waiting for me. And that’s why I have to turn myself into the wind.”
The desert didn’t answer him for a few moments.
Then it told him, “I’ll give you my sands to help the wind to blow, but, alone,
I can’t do anything. You have to ask for help from the wind.”
A breeze began to blow. The tribesmen watched the boy from a distance,
talking among themselves in a language that the boy couldn’t understand.
The alchemist smiled.
The wind approached the boy and touched his face. It knew of the boy’s
talk with the desert, because the winds know everything. They blow across
the world without a birthplace, and with no place to die.
“Help me,” the boy said. “One day you carried the voice of my loved one to
me.”
“Who taught you to speak the language of the desert and the wind?”
“My heart,” the boy answered.

The Alchemist

Paulo Coelho

My notes:

I find this book akin to Herman Hesse’s Siddharta. They have both taught me…