joi, 4 iunie 2009

galeata cu nisip

nu stiu daca am citit,am vazut intr-un film sau sunt franturi de amintiri din vietile anterioare dar imi aduc aminte de o conversatie dintre un beduin si un strain..
strainul voia sa cumpere nu stiu ce secret de la unul din oamenii desertului iar acesta i-a spus ca trebuie sa ii plateasca fie o suma fixa(foarte mare)fie cate un banut de aur pentru fiecare graunte de nisip dintr-o galeata..strainul a fost de acord sa plateasca suma fixa,dar omul desertului i-a intors spatele si a plecat.. iar beduinul i-a explicat faptul ca daca ar fi ales varianta cu galeata de nisip omul desertului nu i-ar fi cerut nici un ban ci i-ar fi spus secretul gratis numai pentru rabdarea de a numara grauntele de nisip din galeata.


concluzia o trageti voi

8 comentarii:

  1. Foarte frumoasa povestea.
    Uneori, rabdarea este totul si este surprinzator ce mare bucurie te poate cuprinde in momentul, atat de simplu, in care iti arati tie insuti ca poti sa fii rabdator, ca poti sa faci lucruri incet si frumos.

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  2. Eu nu spun nimic; numar fire de nisip pe malul Oceanului; nici nu stiti cate perle am deja.

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  3. Ca sa fiu in asentiment cu arabul, trebuie sa ai rabdare si sa perseverezi pentru a gasi acea povestioara cu tilc si sa o postezi integral ...sa ne bucuram si noi astia mai euro-occidentali.

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  4. darael,esti un fericit
    el-draa bine ai venit in casa mea..si da am sa caut povestea integrala

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  5. Counting brings you patience. Witty those desert people are. I have wondered, over the years, if their wits come from patience or if patience makes them wise.
    When I was shipwrecked in the desert (yes, it happens at least once in a pirate's life...) I witnessed this story (or it may have been a dream or a page in a dream book....)

    Three young men went to the tent of an old Arab and said to him,
    "Our father has passed away. He had 17 camels and in his will he instructed the eldest brother to take half the camels, the second one to take 1/3 and the youngest should take 1/9 of the camels. We tried and tried again but we could not figure out how to satisfy our father's will. Can you help us"?
    The old Arab paused and quietly said, "Well, I see you need one more camel to satisfy your father's will. I only have one camel but I will give it to you. Take it to make the split and bring back to me whatever is left."
    The men thanked him for his kindness and went to split the camels. The eldest son got half of them (9 camels), the second got 1/3 (6 camels) and the youngest got 1/9 (2 camels). As they finished splitting the camels and feeling very happy to have fulfilled their father's will they realized there was still one camel left. They took the camel back to the old man and thanked him again for his kindness...

    Witty those desert people are. And their wisdom comes from patience and their patience comes from counting. Counting day and night. At day they count the desert sand. At night they count the stars. And as I relived the story in my mind I felt safe. Safe that the great Almagest was passed on to them as, worthy of it they were; even though they changed its name. And I remembered how I started counting; starting from 1 by looking at the sun. And then to 2 as pairs of wings flew by me. And then the desert and then the clouds and then the waves. All counting towards patience. But I cannot help but think that one is the all.

    You seem to have a genuine affinity for the desert so maybe you will like this poem (written by Andrew Barton "Banjo" Paterson; 1918)

    A Grain of Desert Sand

    Beneath the blue Egyptian skies,
    With ramp and roller, guide and stay,
    I saw the Pyramids arise
    And I shall see them pass away.

    I watched when Alexander passed;
    I saw Napoleon’s flag unfurled –
    The greatest and perhaps the last
    Of men whose footsteps shook the world.

    To each his hour of pride and place,
    Arab and Persian, Greek and Jew;
    Mahomet trod upon my face,
    Darius spurned me with his shoe.

    And yet I am not Priest or King,
    Sultan or chief in high command.
    I am that one unchanging thing,
    A grain of desert sand.

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