الوسم: text

Text A : The Pot of Gold

Ali and Mariam were Bedouin camel farmers. “Too
many camels, too many camels”, said Mariam.
“Not enough camels”, said Ali. The two of them were
always arguing.
One evening there was a gentle tap at the door. A little
man dressed in green asked, “Can I stay here for two
nights?” “Yes,” said Ali.
“No,” said Mariam.
One evening there was a gentle tap at the door. A little
man dressed in green asked, “Can I stay here for two
nights?” “Yes,” said Ali.
“No,” said Mariam.
“I can pay”, said the little man. He took two, shiny, gold
coins out of his pocket. “Well?” he asked, “Can I stay?”
“Yes!” responded Mariam and Ali together and for once they agreed about something.
“Good night and good luck!” whispered the little man all in green. Mariam laughed. “We never
have any luck,” she said. But this time she was wrong.
The next day Ali saw a big pile of stones in the dunes. He removed some of the stones and
discovered a heap of shiny, new, solid gold coins shining like diamonds! “I’ll run home and fetch
He put the stones back to cover the gold.
Ali told Mariam about the shiny, gold coins he had found. Ali grabbed a big bag. She said,
“People will see us and then everybody will want some of the gold. We’ll wait until it is dark. Just
think,” she said, “with all that money we can buy a new house.”
Ali said, “We don’t need a new house. But we do need some more camels”. They were shouting
so loudly that they didn’t hear the little man come downstairs.
“Please can you stop yelling?” he asked politely. The little man gave them both a strange look
and then slowly went upstairs. “Good night” he said, but this time he did not say “Good luck”.
When it was dark Ali and Mariam took the bag into the dunes to the pile of stones. Mariam
all up!” she said.
around and then he spotted another pile of stones and another and another. “That’s strange” he
thought.
Ali and Mariam looked around them. There were hundreds of piles of stones, each with a stick
on the table and a note saying “Keep looking”. They went to bed tired and unhappy.

Text B: The Wind

The wind whistles
Through the mighty ghaf trees.
It brings relief from the heat.
It moves this way,
It moves that way,
Picking up rubbish
Left by hungry visitors.
As the stars cover the night sky,
The wind slows.
The heat has gone,
Nothing moves
But the rubbish remains