Маленький принц / The Little Prince

To those who understand life, that will seem like a true story. Because I do not want anyone to read my book carelessly. I suffered much to write down these memories. Six years passed since my friend went away from me, with his sheep. And I try to describe him here, because I do not want to forget him. To forget a friend is sad. Not every one has a friend. And if I forget him, I may become like the grownups who are not interested in anything but figures.

It is for that purpose that I bought a box of paints and some pencils. It is hard to draw again at my age. I never made any pictures except those of the boa from the outside and the boa from the inside. I made these drawings when I was six. I shall certainly try to make my portraits as true as possible. But I am not sure of success. I make some errors, too, in the little prince’s height: in one place he is too tall and in another too short. And I feel some doubts about the colour of his costume.

In certain more important details I shall make mistakes, also. But that is something that will not be my fault. My friend never explained anything to me. He thought, perhaps, that I was like himself. But I, alas, do not know how to see sheep through the walls of boxes. Perhaps I am a little like the grown-ups. Maybe I grew old[7 - to grow old – стареть].

5

As each day passed I learned, in our talk, something about the little prince’s planet and his departure from it, his journey. The information came very slowly. On the third day I heard about the catastrophe of the baobabs.

This time, once more, I thanked the sheep for it. For the little prince asked me abruptly:

“It is true, isn’t it, that sheep eat little bushes?”

“Yes, that is true.”

“Ah! I am glad!”

I did not understand why it was so important that sheep can eat little bushes. But the little prince added:

“Do they also eat baobabs?”

I noted that baobabs were not little bushes, but, on the contrary, were trees as big as castles; and that even if he takes a whole herd of elephants away with him, the herd cannot eat up one single baobab.

The idea of the herd of elephants made the little prince laugh.

“We will put them one on top of the one another[8 - to put them one on top of one another – поставить их друг на друга],” he said.

But then he made a wise comment:

“Before they grow so big, the baobabs are little.”

“That is correct,” I said. “But why will the sheep eat the little baobabs?”

He answered me at once, “Oh, come, come![9 - Oh, come, come! – А как же!]” And I made a great mental effort to solve this problem, without any assistance.

Indeed, as I learned, that on the planet where the little prince lived there were—as on all planets—good plants and bad plants. So there were good seeds from good plants, and bad seeds from bad plants. But the seeds were invisible. They sleep deep in the heart of the earth’s darkness, until a little seed desires to wake. Then this little seed will stretch itself and begin—timidly at first—to push a little sprig upward toward the sun. If it is only a sprout of radish or the sprig of a rose-bush, let it grow. But when it is a bad plant, one must destroy it as soon as possible[10 - as soon as possible – как можно скорее].

Now there were some terrible seeds on the planet that was the home of the little prince; and these were the seeds of the baobab. The soil of that planet was infested with them. A baobab is something you will never, never be able to get rid of[11 - to get rid of – избавиться] if you see it too late. It spreads over the entire planet. And if the planet is too small, and the baobabs are too many, they split it in pieces.

“It is a question of discipline,” the little prince said to me. “When you finish your own toilet in the morning, then it is time to attend to the toilet of your planet, just so, with the greatest care. You must check all the baobabs regularly. It is very tedious work,” the little prince added, “but very easy.”

And one day he said to me: “You must make a beautiful drawing. The children where you live must see exactly how all this is. That will be very useful to them. Baobabs always mean a catastrophe. I knew a planet, a lazy man lived there. He neglected three little bushes.”

So the little prince described it to me. And I made a drawing of that planet. I do not want to be a moralist, but very few people understand the danger of the baobabs. So, children—watch out for the baobabs![12 - watch out for the baobabs! – берегитесь баобабов!]

6

Oh, little prince! I understand the secrets of your sad little life. For a long time your only entertainment was looking at the sunset. I learned that new detail on the morning of the fourth day, when you said to me:

“I am very fond[13 - I am very fond – я очень люблю] of sunsets. Come, let us go look at a sunset now.”

“But we must wait,” I said.

“Wait? For what?”

“For the sunset. We must wait until it is time.”

At first you were very much surprised. And then you laughed to yourself. You said to me:

“I always think that I am at home!”

Just so. Everybody knows that when it is noon in the United States the sun is setting over France.

If you fly to France in one minute, you will go straight into the sunset, right from noon. Unfortunately, France is too far away for that. But on your tiny planet, my little prince, you can just move your chair a few steps. You can see the day end and the twilight whenever you like.

“One day,” you said to me, “I saw the sunset forty-four times!”

And later you added:

“You know—one loves the sunset, when one is so sad.”

“Were you so sad, then?” I asked, “On the day of the forty-four sunsets?”

But the little prince made no reply.

7

On the fifth day—again, as always, thanks to the sheep—the secret of the little prince’s life was revealed to me. Abruptly he demanded:

“A sheep—if it eats little bushes, does it eat flowers, too?”

“A sheep,” I answered, “eats anything.”

“Even flowers that have thorns?”

“Yes, even flowers that have thorns.”

“Then the thorns—what use are they?[14 - what use are they? – какая от них польза?]”

I did not know. At that moment I was very busy: I was trying to unscrew a bolt in my engine. I was very much worried; the breakdown of my plane was extremely serious. And I had so little drinking water.

“The thorns—what use are they?” The little prince insisted. As for me, I was upset over that bolt. And I answered with the first thing that came into my head:

“The thorns are of no use at all. Flowers have thorns just for spite![15 - just for spite – просто от злости]”

“Oh!”

There was a moment of complete silence. Then the little prince said: