Текст песни Антуан де Сент-Экзюпери - Глава 07

VII

     On the fifth day, again thanks to the lamb, I have learned the secret
The Little Prince. He asked suddenly, without preamble, just came
to this conclusion after a long silent contemplation:
     - If the lamb has bushes and flowers he eats?
     - He is everything that comes.
     - Even flowers that have spikes?
     - Yes, and those that have thorns.
     - Then why the spikes?
     I did not know. I was very busy: in the motor seized one bolt, and I
tried to unscrew it. I was not myself, the situation became
serious water is almost gone, and I began to fear that my
forced landing would end badly.
     - What are the thorns?
     After asking some questions, the little prince never retreat,
has not yet received a response. Stubborn bolt bring me out of patience, and I
answered at random:
     - Spikes or why not needed, just flowers release their anger.
     - That is how!
     There was a silence. Then he said, almost angrily:
     - I do not believe you! Flowers are weak. And the simple. And they try to
to give himself courage. They think - if they have thorns, all of them are afraid ...
     I did not answer. At that moment I said to myself: & quot; If this bolt and now
will not yield, I knock on it with a hammer, he smashed
bits & quot ;. The Little Prince again interrupted my thoughts:
     - Do you think that the flowers ...
     - Oh, no! Nothing, I do not think! I told you the first thing that came
in the head. You see, I'm busy serious business.
     He looked at me in amazement:
     - A serious matter ?!
     He kept looking at me, bedraggled lubricating oil, with
hammer in hand, I leaned over the unknown object that
seemed to him so ugly.
     - You sound like adults! - He said.
     I felt ashamed. He ruthlessly added:
     - All you confused ... do not understand anything!
     Yes, he was seriously angry. He shook his head, and the wind
ruffled his golden hair.
     - I know of one planet, there lives a man with a purple face.
He is in his life never smelled a flower. Never looked at
star. He never loved anyone. And never did anything. He is busy
Only one thing: it adds up the numbers. And from morning till night repeats one: & quot; I
a serious man! I'm a serious man! & Quot; - Just like you. And right
swells with pride. And in fact, he is not human. He mushroom.
     - What Is?
     - Mushroom!
     The Little Prince even pale with anger.
     - For millions of years flowers have thorns grow. And millions of years whitecaps
still eat flowers. So really, this is not a serious matter - to understand
why they are struggling to grow spikes, if the spikes from no
any good? Is not it important that the lambs and flowers are at war with each
other? Do you think it is not serious and is not more important than the arithmetic thick
Mr. red-faced? And if I know the only flower in the world,
it grows only on my planet, and other such are not present, and
little lamb one morning suddenly take and eat it and
will not even know what he did? And that's all you think it does not matter?

     He blushed. Then he spoke again:
     - If you love a flower - only what is no longer on any
of the many millions of stars, it is enough to look at the sky and
feel happy. And you say to yourself: & quot; Somewhere live my
flower ... & quot; But if the sheep eats, it's as if all
stars will be extinguished! And this, in your opinion, it does not matter!
     He could no longer speak. He suddenly burst into tears. Dark. I threw
work. I find it funny was the ill-fated bolt and hammer, lust and death. On The
star on the planet - on my planet called Earth - Little crying
Prince, and I had to comfort him. I took him in my arms and began to lull. I AM
told him: & quot; flowers,