(Narcissus by Caravaggio )
The Alchemist picked up a book that someone in the caravan had brought. Leafing through the pages, he found a story about Narcissus.
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.
( Prologue of “The Alchemist”, celebrating this week THREE YEARS in the New York Times Bestselling list
————————————
NARCISO E O LAGO
O Alquimista pegou num livro que alguém na caravana tinha trazido. O volume estava sem capa, mas conseguiu identificar o seu autor: Oscar Wilde . Enquanto folheava as suas páginas, encontrou uma história sobre Narciso.
O Alquimista conhecia a lenda de Narciso, um belo rapaz que todos os dias ia contemplar a sua própria beleza num lago. Estava tão fascinado por si mesmo que certo dia caiu dentro do lago e morreu afogado.
No lugar onde caiu, nasceu uma flor, a que chamaram narciso.
Mas não era assim que Oscar Wilde acabava a história.
Ele dizia que quando Narciso morreu, vieram as Oréiades – deusas do bosque – e viram o lago transformado, de um lago de água doce, num cântaro de águas salgadas.
- Por que choras? – perguntaram as Oréiades .
- Choro por Narciso – disse o lago.
- Ah, não nos espanta que chores por Narciso – continuaram elas. – Afinal de contas, apesar de todas nós corrermos atrás dele pelo bosque, tu eras o único que tinha a oportunidade de contemplar de perto a sua beleza.
- Mas Narciso era belo? – perguntou o lago.
- Quem mais do que tu poderia saber disso? – responderam, surpresas, as Oréiades . – Afinal de contas, era nas tuas margens que ele se debruçava todos os dias.
O lago ficou algum tempo quieto. Por fim, disse:
- Eu choro por Narciso, mas nunca tinha percebido que Narciso era belo.
»Choro por Narciso porque, todas as vezes que ele se debruçava sobre as minhas margens eu podia ver, no fundo dos seus olhos, a minha própria beleza reflectida.
– Que bela história – disse o Alquimista.
(prólogo de “O Alquimista”, celebrando esta semana 3 anos na lista dos mais vendidos do New York Times
alkmist
alkmist
alkmist
alkmist
alkmist
alkmist
alkmist
alkmist
alkmist
alkmist
alkmist
alkmist
alkmist
alkmist
alkmist
alkmist
alkmist
alkmist
Why project human neediness onto the lake? I think the lake as the flower has no need to be seen. Seeing involves keeping at a distance. The natural world is interconnected, one. Narcissus fell because he lost balance.
We are all desiring someone to see us and reflect back to us who we really are…of the Light. Maybe Narcissus no longer needed his body when he really got it. What was to be witnessed was deeper than the beauty of the body…
And the lake experienced the same.
I think is like the quote “I love you not because of who you are but because of who I am when I am with you ” … maybe the lake was weeping for Narcissus because only in his eyes it could see it’s own beauty …
nn c’è luogo nn c’è “casa” ke possa farmi sentire al sicuro…c’è sempre quel vuoto ke mi accompagna e in mille modi vorrei colmarlo con atteggiamenti oggetti azioni…ora me ne sto qui con il letto disfatto il gatto ke dorme sopra il mio cuscino..il gelo fuori dalla porta il cuore pieno di sensi di colpa e la testa ke vorrebbe fuggire…bhe…è inutile…la mia vera casa è il nulla ke tutto gli appartiene… dentro di me.E’ vero solo ciò ke io voglio credere sia vero…
Perfeito… li… reli… li denovo
Some people tend to be so pre-occupied with themselves that they fail to see the beauty in others…
its beautiful infect more than beautiful….
Hmmm…the lake in the story is much too occupied admiring itself, it failed to notice the beauty of Narcissus. The lake and Narcissus have one thing in common — both failed to noticed the beauty in others because both were so self-absorbed and focus on themselves, which is not a nice attitude, if i may say so.
“What is essential is invisible to the naked eye” (from the book The Little Prince by Guy de Saint Exupery.
Physical beauty fades but inner beauty lasts.
may i know what do you guys thought at what the alchemist said ? that it is ‘lovely’ ?
We become mirror to each other but sometimes we focus on what the mirror or others is telling us never realizing who we truly are…the sadness of narcissus is because after staring at his own face he failed to know he truly is. The lake is just the same he stared in narcissus eyes for a long time but it never appreciate itself. It is when we are so preoccupied in our self that we became insensitive to others. Insensitivity is the height of selfishness.
Beautiful.
It is indeed a lovely story. ♥
its a nice take on the originall..
loved it…!!