Le Petit Prince
You know - one loves the sunset, when one is so sad...
If someone loves a flower, of which just one single blossom grows in all the millions and
millions of stars, it is enough to make him happy just to look at the stars. He can say to
himself, "Somewhere, my flower is there..." But if the sheep eats the flower, in one
moment all his stars will be darkened... And you think that is not important!
Flowers are so inconsistent! But I was too young to know how to love her...
For she did not want him to see her crying. She was such a proud flower...
It is of some use to my volcanoes, and it is of some use to my flower, that I own them.
But you are of no use to the stars.
My flower is ephemeral, and she has only four thorns to defend herself against the worlf.
And I have left on my planet, all alone!
The people have no imagination. They repeat whatever one says to them... On my planet I
had a flower, she always was the first to speak...
His flower had told him that she was only of her kind in all universe. And here were five
thousand of them, all alike, in one single garden!
I thought that I was rich, with a flower that was unique in all the world, and all I had
was a common rose. A common rose...
To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand
other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me.
To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes.But if you tame
me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I
shall be unique in all the world.
The wheat fields have nothing to say to me. And that is sad. But you have hair that is the
color of gold. Think how wonderful that will be when you have tamed me! The grain, which
is also golden, will bring me back the thought of you. And I shall love to lisen to the
wind in the wheat.
Men have not more time to understand anything. They buy things already made at the shops.
But there is no shop anywhere where one can buy friendship, and so men have no friends any
more.
It is your own fault, I never wished you any sort of harm, but you wanted me to tame you.
But now you are going to cry! Then it has done you no good at all!
It has done me good, because of the color of the wheat fields. Go and look again at the
roses. You will understand now that yours is unique in all the world.
You are beautiful, but you are empty. One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary
passer - by would think think that my rose looked just like you - the rose that belongs to
me. But in herself alone she is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses:
because it is she that I have watered; because it is she that I have put under the glass
globe; because it is she that I have sheltered behind the screen; because it is she that I
have killed the caterpillers (except the two or three that we saved to become butterflies)
; because it is she that I have listened to, when she grumbled, or boasted, or even
sometimes when she said nothing. Because she is my rose.
And now here is my secret, a very simple secret. It is only with the heart that one can
see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eyes.
It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important.
Men have forgotten this truth. But you must not forget it. You become responsible,
forever, for what you have tamed. You are responsible for your rose...
Only the children know what they are looking for. They waste their time over a rag doll
and it becomes very important to them; and if anybody takes it away from them, they cry...
As for me, if I had fifty - three minutes to spend as I liked,I should walk at my leisure
toward a spring of fresh water.
The stars are beautiful, because of a flower that cannot be seen.
What makes the desert beautiful is that somewhere it hides a well...
The house, the stars, the desert - what gives them their beauty is something that is
invisible!
What moves me so deeply, about this little prince who is sleeping here, is his loyalty to
a flower - the image of a rose that shine through his whole being like the flame of a
lamp, even when he is asleep...
The men where you live, raise five thousand roses in the same garden - and they do not
find in it what they are looking for. And yet what they are looking for could be found in
one single rose, or in a little water. But eyes are blind. One must look with the heart...
The thing that is important is the thing that not seen... It is just as it is with the
flower. If you love a flower that lives on a star, it is sweet to look at the sky at
night. All the stars are abloom with flowers...
My star will be just one of the stars, for you. And so you will love to watch all the
stars in the heavens... They will be your friends.
All men have the stars, but they are not the same things for different people. For some,
who are travelers, the stars are guides. For others they are mo more than little lights in
the sky. For others, who are scholars, they are problems. For my businessman they were
wealth. But all these stars are silent. You - you alone - will have the stars as no one
else has them...
In one of the stars I shall be living. In one of them I shall be laughing. And so it wil
be as if all the stars were laughing, when you look at the sky at night... You - only you
- will have stars that can laugh...
And when your sorrow is comforted time soothes all sorrows you will be content that you
have known me. You will always be my friend. You will want to laugh with me. And you will
sometimes open your window, so, for that pleasure... And your friends will be properly
astonished to see you laughing as you look up at the sky! Then you will say to them, "Yes,
the stars always make me laugh!"
You understand... It is too far. I cannot carry this body with me. It is too heavy. But it
will be like an old abandoned shell. There is nothing sad about old shells...
You know, it will be very nice. I, too, shall look at the stars. All the stars will be
wells with a rusty pulley. All the stars will pour out fresh water for me to drink... That
will be so amusing! You will have five hundred million little bells, and I shall have five
hundred million springs of fresh water...
You know - my flower... I am responsible for her. And she is so weak! She is so naive! She
has four thorns, of no use at all, to protect herself against the world...there now - that
is all...
And no grown-ups will ever understand that this is a matter of so much importance!
If someone loves a flower, of which just one single blossom grows in all the millions and
millions of stars, it is enough to make him happy just to look at the stars. He can say to
himself, "Somewhere, my flower is there..." But if the sheep eats the flower, in one
moment all his stars will be darkened... And you think that is not important!
Flowers are so inconsistent! But I was too young to know how to love her...
For she did not want him to see her crying. She was such a proud flower...
It is of some use to my volcanoes, and it is of some use to my flower, that I own them.
But you are of no use to the stars.
My flower is ephemeral, and she has only four thorns to defend herself against the worlf.
And I have left on my planet, all alone!
The people have no imagination. They repeat whatever one says to them... On my planet I
had a flower, she always was the first to speak...
His flower had told him that she was only of her kind in all universe. And here were five
thousand of them, all alike, in one single garden!
I thought that I was rich, with a flower that was unique in all the world, and all I had
was a common rose. A common rose...
To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand
other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me.
To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes.But if you tame
me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I
shall be unique in all the world.
The wheat fields have nothing to say to me. And that is sad. But you have hair that is the
color of gold. Think how wonderful that will be when you have tamed me! The grain, which
is also golden, will bring me back the thought of you. And I shall love to lisen to the
wind in the wheat.
Men have not more time to understand anything. They buy things already made at the shops.
But there is no shop anywhere where one can buy friendship, and so men have no friends any
more.
It is your own fault, I never wished you any sort of harm, but you wanted me to tame you.
But now you are going to cry! Then it has done you no good at all!
It has done me good, because of the color of the wheat fields. Go and look again at the
roses. You will understand now that yours is unique in all the world.
You are beautiful, but you are empty. One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary
passer - by would think think that my rose looked just like you - the rose that belongs to
me. But in herself alone she is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses:
because it is she that I have watered; because it is she that I have put under the glass
globe; because it is she that I have sheltered behind the screen; because it is she that I
have killed the caterpillers (except the two or three that we saved to become butterflies)
; because it is she that I have listened to, when she grumbled, or boasted, or even
sometimes when she said nothing. Because she is my rose.
And now here is my secret, a very simple secret. It is only with the heart that one can
see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eyes.
It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important.
Men have forgotten this truth. But you must not forget it. You become responsible,
forever, for what you have tamed. You are responsible for your rose...
Only the children know what they are looking for. They waste their time over a rag doll
and it becomes very important to them; and if anybody takes it away from them, they cry...
As for me, if I had fifty - three minutes to spend as I liked,I should walk at my leisure
toward a spring of fresh water.
The stars are beautiful, because of a flower that cannot be seen.
What makes the desert beautiful is that somewhere it hides a well...
The house, the stars, the desert - what gives them their beauty is something that is
invisible!
What moves me so deeply, about this little prince who is sleeping here, is his loyalty to
a flower - the image of a rose that shine through his whole being like the flame of a
lamp, even when he is asleep...
The men where you live, raise five thousand roses in the same garden - and they do not
find in it what they are looking for. And yet what they are looking for could be found in
one single rose, or in a little water. But eyes are blind. One must look with the heart...
The thing that is important is the thing that not seen... It is just as it is with the
flower. If you love a flower that lives on a star, it is sweet to look at the sky at
night. All the stars are abloom with flowers...
My star will be just one of the stars, for you. And so you will love to watch all the
stars in the heavens... They will be your friends.
All men have the stars, but they are not the same things for different people. For some,
who are travelers, the stars are guides. For others they are mo more than little lights in
the sky. For others, who are scholars, they are problems. For my businessman they were
wealth. But all these stars are silent. You - you alone - will have the stars as no one
else has them...
In one of the stars I shall be living. In one of them I shall be laughing. And so it wil
be as if all the stars were laughing, when you look at the sky at night... You - only you
- will have stars that can laugh...
And when your sorrow is comforted time soothes all sorrows you will be content that you
have known me. You will always be my friend. You will want to laugh with me. And you will
sometimes open your window, so, for that pleasure... And your friends will be properly
astonished to see you laughing as you look up at the sky! Then you will say to them, "Yes,
the stars always make me laugh!"
You understand... It is too far. I cannot carry this body with me. It is too heavy. But it
will be like an old abandoned shell. There is nothing sad about old shells...
You know, it will be very nice. I, too, shall look at the stars. All the stars will be
wells with a rusty pulley. All the stars will pour out fresh water for me to drink... That
will be so amusing! You will have five hundred million little bells, and I shall have five
hundred million springs of fresh water...
You know - my flower... I am responsible for her. And she is so weak! She is so naive! She
has four thorns, of no use at all, to protect herself against the world...there now - that
is all...
And no grown-ups will ever understand that this is a matter of so much importance!
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