Paulo Coelho

[AsgjëSikurDielli]

http://www.crystal-world.com/photos/...ooks/GB224.jpg


By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept

Translated by Alan R. Clarke

HarperPerennial
An Imprint of HarperCollins Publishers






But wisdom is justified
by all her children.

Luke 7:35



Page 1-2


By the river Piedra I sat down and wept. There is a legend that everything that falls into the waters of the river-- leaves, insects, the feathers of birds--is transformed into the rocks that make the riverbed. If only I could tear out my heart and hurl it into the current, then my pain and longing would be over and I could finally forget.
By the river Piedra I sat down and wept. The winter air chills the tears on my cheeks, and my tears fall into the cold waters that course past me. Somewhere, this river joins another, then another, until--far from my heart and sight-- all of them merge with the sea.
May my tears run just as far, that my love might never know that one day I cried for him. May my tears run just as far, that I might forget the River Piedra, the monastery, the church in the Pyrenees, the mists, and the paths we walked together.
I shall forget the roads, the mountains, and the fields of my dreams--the dreams that will never come true.
I remember my "magic moment" -- that instant when a "yes" or a "no" can change one's life forever. It seems so long ago now. It is hard to believe that it was only last week that I had found my love once again, and then lost him.
I am writing this story on the bank of the River Piedra. My hands are freezing, my legs are numb, and every minute I want to stop.
"Seek to live. Remembrance is for the old", he said.
Perhaps love makes us old before our time-- or young, if youth has passed. But how can I not recall those moments? That is why I write--to try to turn sadness into longing, solitude into remembrance. So that when I finish telling myself the story, I can toss it into the Piedra. That's what the woman who has given me shelter told me to do. Only then--in the words of one of the saints--will the water extinguish what the flames have written.
All love stories are the same.

[angeldust]

Postuar më parë nga AsgjëSikurDielli
"Seek to live. Remembrance is for the old", he said.
Perhaps love makes us old before our time-- or young, if youth has passed. But how can I not recall those moments? That is why I write--to try to turn sadness into longing, solitude into remembrance. So that when I finish telling myself the story, I can toss it into the Piedra. That's what the woman who has given me shelter told me to do. Only then--in the words of one of the saints--will the water extinguish what the flames have written.
All love stories are the same.

Remembrance for love DOES make us old when we're young. He's right. I wonder if the woman who has given him shelter is right. :)

Shpresoj qe te gjesh kohe qe se shpejti te na sjellesh te tjera nga ky Coelho.

Ja pak biografi te permbledhur per te...


Paulo Coelho Biography

"Paulo Coelho is not only one of the most widely read but also one of the most influential authors writing today"
-- the Bambi awards in Germany

"His books have had a life-enhancing impact on millions of people"
-- The Times in the U.K.

To date, a total of 210 translations of Coelho's books have been sold: almost 43 million copies in 55 languages and 140 countries.

Paulo Coelho has led an extreme life. Rebelliousness defined his youth. He was a hippie. He wrote popular song lyrics for some of Brazil's famous pop music stars, including Elis Regina and Raul Seixas. Shortly after, he worked as a journalist.

In 1986 Paulo Coelho walked along the Road of Santiago, the ancient Spanish pilgrimage. He would later describe this experience in The Pilgrimage, published in 1987. The following year, his second book The Alchemist established his worldwide fame. The book is an authentic phenomenon.

Other titles include Brida (1990), The Valkyries (1992), Maktub (1994) - a compilation of his daily column, By The River Piedra I Saw Down & Wept (1994), The Fifth Mountain (1996), The Manual Of The Warrior Of Light (1997); Veronika Decides To Die (1998). His most recent novel, The Devil And Miss Prym (2000), is a resounding success in all the countries where it has been published to date.

For ten years Paulo Coelho's different titles have made the top places on the bestseller lists around the world. He was named the second best-selling author worldwide by the French magazine "Lire" (March 1999), a nomination based on information from several leading bestseller lists. The critics have especially praised his poetic, realistic and philosophical style, and the symbolic language that does not speak to our brains, but to our hearts.

Paulo Coelho is the founder of the Paulo Coelho Institute, which provides support and opportunities for underprivileged members of the Brazilian society, especially children and the elderly. He was appointed special advisor to the UNESCO program "Spiritual Convergences and Intercultural Dialogues" and he was recently appointed board member of the Schwab Foundation for social entrepreneurship. He was the first non-Muslim author to be invited to Iran since the Islamic Revolution of 1979.

On 25 July 2002, Paulo Paulo Coelho became a member of the prestigious Brazilian Academy of Letters (ABL). The academy was founded 104 years ago, and the 40-member body makes the rules on how Portuguese is spelled and spoken.

--adapted from the Sant Jordi Asociados
Literary Agency's Coelho biography

[AsgjëSikurDielli]

Page 3-4


WE HAD BEEN CHILDREN TOGETHER. Then he left, like so many young people who leave small towns. He said he was going to learn about the world, that his dreams lay beyond the fields of Soria.
Years passed with almost no news of him. Every now and then he would send me a letter, but he never returned to the paths and forests of our childhood.
When I finished school, I moved to Zaragoza, and there I found the he had been right. Soria was a small town, and as its only famous poet had said, roads are made to be traveled. I enrolled in the university and found a boyfriend. I began to study for a scholarship (I was working as a salesgirl to pay for my courses). But I lost the competition for the scholarship, and after that I left my boyfriend.
Then the letters from my childhood friend began to arrive more frequently—and I was envious of the stamps from so many different places. He seemed to know everything; he had sprouted winds, and now he roamed the world. Meanwhile, I was simply trying to put down roots.
Some of his letters, all mailed from the same place in France, spoke of God. In one, he wrote about wanting to enter a seminary and dedicate his life to prayer. I wrote him back, asking him to wait a bit, urging him to experience more of his freedom before committing himself to something so serious.
But after I reread my letter, I tore it up. Who was I to speak about freedom or commitment? Compared to him, I knew nothing about such things.
One day I learned that he had begun to give lectures. This surprised me; I thought he was too young to be able to teach anything to anyone. And then he wrote to me that he was going to speak to a small group in Madrid—and he asked me to come.
So I made the four-hour trip from Zaragoza to Madrid. I wanted to see him again; I wanted to hear his voice. I wanted to sit with him in a café and remember the old days, when we had thought the world was too large for anyone to ever know it truly.

[Cupke_pe_Korce]

Postuar më parë nga AsgjëSikurDielli
"Seek to live. Remembrance is for the old", he said.
Perhaps love makes us old before our time-- or young, if youth has passed.

So true!

I liked the passages tremendously. They're moving!

[AsgjëSikurDielli]

Page 5-6

Saturday, December 4, 1993





THE PLACE where the conference was held was more formal than I had imagined it, and there more people there then I had expected. How had all this come about?
He must be famous, I thought. He’d said nothing about this in his letter. I wanted t go up to the people in the audience and ask them why they were there, but I didn’t have the nerve.
I was even more surprised when I saw him enter the room. He was quite different from the boy I had known—but of course, it had been twelve years; people change. Tonight his eyes were shining—he looked wonderful.
“He’s giving us back what was ours”, said a woman seated next to me.
A strange thing to say.
“What is he giving back?” I asked.
“What was stolen from us. Religion.”
“No, no, he’s not giving us anything back,” said a younger woman seated on my right. “They can’t return something that has always belonged to us.”
“Well, then, what are you doing here?” the first woman asked, irritated.
“I want to listen to him. I want to see how they think; they’re already burned us at the stake once, and they may want to do it again.”
“He’s just one voice,” said the woman. “He’s doing what he can.”
The young woman smiled sarcastically and turned away, putting and end to the conversation.
“He’s taking a courageous position for a seminarian,” the other woman went on, looking to me for support.
I didn’t understand any of this, and I said nothing. The woman finally gave up. The girl at my side winked at me, as If I were her ally.
But I was silent for a different reason. I was thinking, Seminarian? It can’t be! He would have told me.
When he started to speak, I couldn’t concentrate. I was sure he had spotted me in the audience, and I was trying to guess what he was thinking. How did I look to him? How different was the woman, of twenty-nine from the girl of seventeen?
I noticed that his voice hadn’t changed. But his words certainly had.

[Ihti]

Ka kohe qe me eshte krijuar nje bindje e cuditshme.

Poetet ose jane dashnore qe vetem deshtojne , ose homoseksuale.

Poezia rrjedhe e bukur vetem kur shtyhet nga nje brenge shume e thelle...qe i jep magji fjaleve, qe e lejon autorin ta derdhe gjithe gjeniun e tij, ...po e perseris, te derdhe gjeniun e tij, qe ta pelqejne te tjeret.

Edhe shperblimi eshte admirimi i zgjedhjes se fjaleve nga te tjeret.

por ne fund te fundit...c'jam une qe te flas? ...e di qe nuk jam poet, dhe nuk do jem ndonjehere.

[Cupke_pe_Korce]

“Ideals are purified by suffering , as gold is by fire” Dostoevsky
…wasn’t he the one who suffered more than most men?

Ahhh…that bitter taste of life :)

Sa per poetiken e Coelho-s, me duhet te lexoj librin per te kuptuar se c'ka dashur te thote.

Many [artists] write for their time; very few for the ages. :)

[aquiles]

... in the books of Coelho, everything is alwasy maked by the fate... like if everything was written before we were born... does really the destiny exist?... do you believe in destiny?

Pershendetje!

Aquiles.

[velsa]

PAULO COELHO, "THE ALCHEMIST" ( " Listen to your heart, it knows everything")

" To realize one's destiny is a person's only obligation"


plot


Paulo Coelho's enchanting novel has inspired millions of delighted readers around the world.
This story is dazzling in its simplicity and wisdom, is about an Andalusion shepherd boy named Santiago who ventures from his homeland in Spain to North Africa in search of a treasure burried in the Pyramids.

Along the way he meets a beautiful, young gypsy woman, a man who calls himself a king, and an alchemist, all of whom point Santiago can surmount the obstacles along the way through the desert. But what starts out as a boyish adventure to discover exotic places and worldly wealth turns into a quest for the treasure only found within.

Lush, evocative and deeply humane, Santiago's story is an eternal testament to follwing our dreams and listening to our hearts.

[velsa]

The Alchemist

[shigjeta]

Shkeputur nga "By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept"

Friday, December 10, 1993

***
Before I closed my eyes, I began to hear my mother's voice. She was telling a story she had often told me when I was a child, not realizing it was a story about me.
"A boy and a girl were insanely in love with each other" my mother's voice was saying. "They decided to become engaged. And that's when presents are always exchanged.
"The boy was poor - his only worthwhile possession was a watch he'd inherited from his grandfather. Thinking about his sweetheart's lovely hair, he decided to sell the watch in order to buy her a silver barrette.
"The girl had no money herself to buy him a present. She went to the shop of the most successful merchant in the town and sold him her hair. With the money, she bought a gold watchband for her lover.
"When they met on the day of the engagement party, she gave him the wristband for a watch he sold, and he gave her the barrette for the hair she no longer had"

[hope31]

Nder librat me te suksesshem te tij, te cilet jane botuar edhe nga Shtepia botuese TOENA, permendim: "Alkimisti" "Mali i peste", "Veronika vendos te vdese", "Djali dhe zonjusha Prym",.
Une po lexoj librin e tij me te ri botuar 15.09.2004 i titulluar"Njembedhjete minuta".
Ne kete liber autori rremon ne natyren shpirterore te seksit dhe te dashurise, duke na ftuar qe te perballemi me paragjykimet, demonet tane per te perqafuar "driten tone te brendeshme".

[hope31]

"Cfare eshte me e rendesishme ne kete jete? Te jetosh apo te besh sikur ke jetuar? Te perballosh nje rrezik tani, te thuash se ke kaluar pasditen me te bukur ne kete qytet?Te te jem fale qe me keni degjuar pa kritika dhe pa komente? Apo, thjesht te futesh ne koracen e gruas me force te madhe vullneti, me nje "drite speciale" dhe te ikesh pa thene nje fjale?"
fq.128



Dhe ne kete rast, edhe po ta kem humbur, kam fituar te pakten nje dite lumturie ne jeten time. Duke ditur si eshte bota, nje dite lumturie mund te quhet nje mrekulli."fq.131

[Cupke_pe_Korce]

Alkimisti eshte libri me kot qe kam lexuar ndonjehere. As kur kam qene femije nuk me kane pelqyer perrallat me mbret. E ashtuquajtura filozofi e jetes ishte kaq sterile sa me se fundmi thashe: "E pastaj c'fare?" (dhe sa here e them kete e di qe e kam humbur kohen kot) Nuk e di, por une u zhgenjeva.

[shigjeta]

Sei tu

Mi spingi oltre i miei limiti
e sento di vivere appieno la mia stessa vita,
in te ho incontrato me stesso
e ho guardato oltre,
oltre ogni inimmaginabile limite.
Ho guardato nel profondo dei tuoi occhi
cercando di comprenderti
ma, ho visto tutto quello che di me
mai avrei voluto vedere.
Ho visto la mia fragilità e la mia insicurezza
i miei sensi di colpa e i miei complessi
le mie paure e la mia insofferenza
ho visto le mie tenebre e i miei demoni
allora, ho guardato ancora oltre
e nel profondo del mio cuore, un mare in tempesta,
un oceano immenso dove tuffarsi e perdersi
e lì nel profondo della mia anima ho compreso!
Ho provato piacere e orgoglio
nel capire quello che oggi provo
nel sapere chi oggi sono veramente
adesso so che amo le cose belle
so che amo tutto quello che la vita mi offre
e una di quelle sei tu.

[leci]

È facile capire come nel mondo esista sempre qualcuno che attende sempre qualcun altro, che ci si trovi in un deserto o in una grande città. E quando questi due esseri s’incontrano e i loro sguardi s’incrociano tutto il passato e tutto il futuro non hanno più alcuna importanza. Esistono solo quel momento e quella straordinaria certezza che tutte le cose, sotto il sole, sono state scritte dalla stessa mano, la mano che risveglia l’Amore e che ha creato un’anima gemella per chiunque lavori, si riposi e cerchi i proprio tesori sotto il sole, perché se tutto ciò non esistesse non avrebbero più alcun senso i sogni dell’umanità.

:................................................. .................................................. .................................................. .......

Gli incontri più importanti sono gia combinati dalle anime prima ancora che i corpi si vedano. Generalmente essi avvengono quando arriviamo ad un limite. Quando abbiamo bisogno di morire e rinascere emotivamente.

[maryp]

il cattolico e il musulmano..

durante un pranzo, mi sono trovato a conversare con un sacerdote cattolico e un ragazzo musulmano. all'arrivo del cameriere con il vassoio, tutti si servirono tranne il giovane islamico, che stava osservando il digiuno annuale prescrito dal Corano.
al termine del pranzo, quando tutti se ne furono andati, uno dei coinvitati non mancò di lanciare la propria frecciata: '' avete potuto notare quanto siano fanatici i musulmani! fortunatamente, non avete niente in comune con loro!''
'' e invece si,'' ribattè il prete. ''quel ragazzo si impegna per servire Dio quanto me. semplicemente, seguiamo leggi e regole differenti!'' e concluse: '' peccato che le persone vedano solo le diversità, le cose che separano. se guardassero con più amore, scorgerebbero sopratutto ciò che accomuna- e la metà dei problemi che affligono il mondo sarebbe risolta.''

[the admiral]

il cattolico e il musulmano..

durante un pranzo, mi sono trovato a conversare con un sacerdote cattolico e un ragazzo musulmano. all'arrivo del cameriere con il vassoio, tutti si servirono tranne il giovane islamico, che stava osservando il digiuno annuale prescrito dal Corano.
al termine del pranzo, quando tutti se ne furono andati, uno dei coinvitati non mancò di lanciare la propria frecciata: '' avete potuto notare quanto siano fanatici i musulmani! fortunatamente, non avete niente in comune con loro!''
'' e invece si,'' ribattè il prete. ''quel ragazzo si impegna per servire Dio quanto me. semplicemente, seguiamo leggi e regole differenti!'' e concluse: '' peccato che le persone vedano solo le diversità, le cose che separano. se guardassero con più amore, scorgerebbero sopratutto ciò che accomuna- e la metà dei problemi che affligono il mondo sarebbe risolta.''

shume e bukur kjo...
kerkova librin nga i cili eshte marre dhe qenka "come il fiume che scorre".
a ia vlene te lexohet???

[maryp]

shume e bukur kjo...
kerkova librin nga i cili eshte marre dhe qenka "come il fiume che scorre".
a ia vlene te lexohet???

per mua librat e Coelhos ja vlejne te gjithe te lexohen.. por meqe eshte nje shkrimtar qe une dashuroj dhe me pelqen gjithcka shkruan , mbase nuk mund te jem shume obiektive.. mbaj mend diku ne nje teme me ke thene qe nuk te kane pelqyer nja dy libra te tij qe kishe lexuar..
gjithsesi sono come il fiume che scorre ja vlen te lexohet sepse jane te gjitha pjese si kjo qe une kam postuar me lart

[the admiral]

per mua librat e Coelhos ja vlejne te gjithe te lexohen.. por meqe eshte nje shkrimtar qe une dashuroj dhe me pelqen gjithcka shkruan , mbase nuk mund te jem shume obiektive.. mbaj mend diku ne nje teme me ke thene qe nuk te kane pelqyer nja dy libra te tij qe kishe lexuar..
gjithsesi sono come il fiume che scorre ja vlen te lexohet sepse jane te gjitha pjese si kjo qe une kam postuar me lart

shume mire e mbake mend :)
"il vincitore è solo" psh nuk me ka pelqyer dhe aq...
ndersa "alkimisti" eshte ne top 5 librat e mi te preferuar.
une mundohem te jam shume objektiv. jo vetem per libra, por per cdo gje. sdq jo gjithmone ia arrij...