Απόσπασμα απο τον αλχημιστή του κοέλιο.

"The Alchemist took in his hands one book which was brought by someone from the convoy. The book was not bound but anyway he could find the author's name: Oscar Wilde. Leafing through the pages he came across a story about Narcissus.
The Alchemist knew the legend of Narcissus, the beautiful youth who used to daily observe his own beauty reflected in the waters of a lake. He was so blinded by his reflection that one day he fell into the lake and drowned. Where he drowned, a flower sprouted which was named after him, a narcissus. But the Oscar Wilde story did not end this way.
According to him, after the death of Narcissus, the forest deities, the Oreads (The author is mistaken. The Oreads were mountain deities - SV), came ashore this sweet water lake and found it transformed into an urn filled with bitter tears.
- Why are you crying? Asked the Oreades.
- I am crying for Narcissus - the lake answered.
- That doesn't surprise us at all, they said. We often chased him in these woods in vain. Only you could observe his beauty closely.
- Was Narcissus beautiful? Asked the lake.
- And who else can know this better than you? Answered the Oreads, amazed. Didn't he bend over your waters every day!
The lake remained speechless for a moment. After that it said:
- I am crying for Narcissus but I have never noticed that Narcissus was beautiful. I am crying for him because every time he bent over my waters, I could have seen deep in the bottom of his eyes the reflection of my own beauty.
This is truly a nice story, the Alchemist said."