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The Little Prince (1)

2021-12-02 11:09  浏览数:89  来源:残疾手    

I was six years old
when I spotted a magnificent picture in a book about an ancient forest.
The picture showed a boa constrictor in the act of swallowing a wild beast.
This is what it looked like:
It said in the book: 'A boa constrictor swallows its prey whole, without chewing it.
After this,
it is unable to move and sleeps through the new six months-this is needed for digestion.'
I thought deeply about the experiences of the forest.
Then, with care and a colored pencil, I succeeded in making my first drawing.
Drawing Number One looked like this:
I showed my fine work to the grown-ups, and asked if the drawing scared them.
'Scared? Why, it is only a hat!'
But it was not a hat! It was very clearly a boa constrictor digesting an elephant.
But the grown-ups need explanations for everything.
So, I made another drawing showing the elephant inside the boa constrictor.
Drawing Number Two looked like this:
This time,
the grown-ups advised me to put away my representations of boa constrictor,
be it from the inside or the outside,
and instead spend my time learning geography, history, arithmetic and grammar.
This is why at six years of age, I gave up a promising career as an artist,
disappointed by the failure of Drawing Number One and Drawing Number Two.
Grown-ups find it hard to understand anything on their own,
and it is tiring for children to always have to explain things to them.
Hence, I chose a different occupation, and learned to fly airplanes.
I flew all over the world and found that geography was very useful to me.
I can easily distinguish China from Arizona,
and such knowledge is important if you get lost in the dark.
Through the years I have encountered many people of importance
and spent a great deal of time among grown-ups.
However, knowing them closely hasn't much improved my opinion of them.
Whenever I felt I met someone sensible,
I experimented by showing him or her my Drawing Number One,
which I always carried with me. But, no matter who it was,
the answer would always be, 'It is a hat.'
There would end any talk about boa constrictors, or ancient forests, or the stars.
I would lower myself to their level
and prattle about bridges, and golf, politics, and neckties.
Oh how it pleased the grown-ups to have met such a logical man.



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