 |
The Little Prince |Language: zh-cn Genres: Arts, Performing Arts Contact email: Get it Feed URL: Get it iTunes ID: Get it |
Listen Now...
The Little Prince-Chapter 7 | 小王子-第7章
Episode 8
Friday, 17 April, 2026
The Little Prince — Chapter 7By Antoine de Saint-ExupéryOn the fifth day—again, as always, it was thanks to the sheep—the secret of the little prince’s life was revealed to me.Abruptly, without anything to lead up to it, and as if the question had been born of long and silent meditation on his problem:“A sheep—if it eats little bushes, does it eat flowers, too?”“A sheep,” I answered, “eats anything it finds in its reach.”“Even flowers that have thorns?”“Yes, even flowers that have thorns.”“Then the thorns—what use are they?”The little prince never let go of a question, once he had asked it. 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!”“Oh!”There was a moment of complete silence. Then the little prince flashed back at me, with a kind of resentfulness:“I don’t believe you! Flowers are weak creatures. They are naïve. They reassure themselves as best they can. They believe that their thorns are terrible weapons…”I did not answer. At that instant I was saying to myself: “If this bolt still won’t turn, I am going to knock it out with the hammer.” Again the little prince disturbed my thoughts:“And you actually believe that the flowers—”“Oh, no!” I cried. “No, no, no! I don’t believe anything. I answered you with the first thing that came into my head. Don’t you see—I am very busy with matters of consequence!”He stared at me, thunderstruck.“Matters of consequence!”He looked at me there, with my hammer in my hand, my fingers black with engine-grease, bending down over an object which seemed to him extremely ugly.“You talk just like the grown-ups!”That made me a little ashamed. But he went on, relentlessly:“You mix everything up together. You confuse everything!”He was really very angry. He tossed his golden curls in the breeze.“I know a planet where there is a certain red-faced gentleman. He has never smelled a flower. He has never looked at a star. He has never loved anyone. He has never done anything in his life but add up figures. And all day he says over and over, just like you: ‘I am busy with matters of consequence!’ And that makes him swell up with pride. But he is not a man—he is a mushroom!”“The rose that I love is in danger,” he continued. “She has only four thorns to defend herself against the world. And I have left her all alone on my planet!”And then he understood, and he began to cry.I had dropped my hammer, my bolt, my thirst, my death—all of it. On one star, one planet, my planet, the Earth, there was a little prince to be comforted. I took him in my arms and rocked him. I said to him:“The flower that you love is not in danger. I will draw you a muzzle for your sheep. I will draw you a railing to put around your flower. I will—”I did not know what to say to him. I felt awkward and blundering. I did not know how I could reach him, where I could overtake him and go on hand in hand with him once more.It is such a secret place, the land of tears.
