Ennyit arról, hogy a könyves szakmában nem a név számít, hanem a tehetség. :)

De jó!!! Valaki lefordíthatná _arabra_ ! :)

angolul is nagyon jók a történetei, lehet, hogy épp az arab szószátyárság révén lett emészthetőbb és vonzóbb így a matek.

>>>

2. SOMEONE TO COUNT ON

In which Beremiz Samir, the Man Who Counted, tells the story of his life. How I learned of the brilliance of his calculations, and how we became traveling companions.

My name is Beremiz Samir. I was born in the little village of Khoi, in Persia, in theshadow of the huge pyramid of Mount Ararat. While still very young, I began work as ashepherd in the service of a rich gentleman from Khamat.

“Every day, at first lights I took the vast flock of sheep to graze and was required to bring them back to their fold before nightfall. For fear of losing a stray lamb and being severely punished as a consequence, I counted them several times a day.

“I became so good at counting that I could sometimes count the whole flock correctly at a glance. I went on to count, for practice, flight of birds in the sky. Little by little I began to develop a great skill in this art. After a few months — thanks to new andcontinuing practice counting ants and other insects — I performed the remarkable feat of counting all the bees in a swarm. This prodigious calculation, however, was as nothing compared with the many others I later achieved. My generous master owned, in two or three far-off oases, huge date plantations, and, informed of my mathematical agility, he charged me with overseeing the sale of his fruit, which I counted in clusters, one by one. I worked thus under the date palms, for almost ten years. Pleased with the profits I secured for him, my good master rewarded me with four months of rest, and I am now on my way to Baghdad to visit some of my family and to see the beautiful mosques and sumptuous palaces of the famous city. And, so as not to waste time, I have practiced throughout my journey counting the trees in this region, the flowers that perfume it, and the birds that fly among its clouds.”

And, pointing to an old fig tree quite close, he went on, ‘That tree, for example, has two hundred and eighty-four branches. Given that each branch has, on the average, three hundred and forty-seven leaves; it is easy to conclude that that tree has a total of ninety-eight thousand, five hundred and forty-eight leaves. Well, my friend?”

“Wonderful!” I cried in astonishment. “It is incredible that a man can count, at aglance, all the branches in a tree, all the flowers in a garden. That skill can bring immense riches to anyone.”

“Do you think so?” exclaimed Beremiz, “It has never occurred to me that counting millions of leaves and swarms of bees could make money. Who could possibly be interested in how many branches there are in a tree, how many birds in a flight that crosses the sky?”

“Your wondrous skill,” I explained, “could be used in twenty thousand different ways. In a great capital like Constantinople, or even in Baghdad, you would be of invaluable help to the government. You could count populations, armies, and flocks. It would be easy for you to sum up the resources of the country, the value of its harvest, its taxes, its commodities, and all the wealth of the state. Through my connections — for I am fromBaghdad — I assure you that it will not be difficult to find some distinguished post in the service of Caliph al-Mutasim, our lord and master. Perhaps you might become treasurer, or fulfill the function of secretary to the Muslim household.”

“If that is truly so, then my mind is made up,” replied the counting man. “I am going to Baghdad.”

And without more ado, he mounted behind me on my camel — the only one we had — and we set out on the long road to the splendid city. From that point on, united by that casual meeting on a country road, we became friends and inseparable companions.

Beremiz was a man of happy and talkative disposition. Still young (he was not yet twenty-six), he was blessed with a most lively intelligence and a remarkable aptitude for the science of numbers. From the most trivial of happenings, he would make unlikely analogies that demonstrated his mathematical acuity. He also knew how to tell stories andanecdotes that illustrated his conversation, already odd and attractive in itself.

At times, he would not speak for several hours, wrapped in an impenetrable silence, pondering prodigious calculations. On those occasions, I took pains not to disturb him. I left him in peace, to make, in his exceptional mind, fascinating discoveries in the arcane mysteries of mathematics, the science that the Arab race so developed and extended.

<<<

@_Epikurosz_:

Egyet, próbaképpen?

Olyasmi születhetne, mintha egy japán óvónő írna hobbiból magyar népmeséket, amelyeket utólag lefordítanak magyarra. Bőgatya, karikásostor, bűvöskocka :-)