我說：「綿羊找到什麼就吃什麼。」
「即使有刺的花嗎？」他問。
「是的，即使是有刺的花。」我說。
「那花的刺有什麼用呢？」他問。
我不曉得。那時候我正忙著把一顆栓在引擎上的螺絲旋開。我很著急，因為我清處飛機故障的情況很嚴重，而飲用的水逐漸地減少，我擔心情況變得更壞。
「那花的刺有什麼用呢？」小王子不放棄地再追問。
我被那根螺絲弄得心煩意亂，於是隨口答：「花的刺一點用也沒有，花長的刺只是惡作劇而已。」
「哦！」他沈默了一會兒後，旋即悻悻然地說：「我不相信你！花是柔弱的。他們相信他們的刺是可怕的武器...」
我沒答話，只有喃喃自語說：「如果這根螺絲再這麼頑固，我就用鐵鎚把它敲出來。」
小王子又再度打斷我的思緒，他說：「你真的覺得那些花...」
我大叫：「沒有！沒有！我一點也不覺得！我只是隨便回答你而已。你沒看到我正在忙重要的事嗎？」
他愣住了，望著我說：「重要的事情？」
他看著我拿著鐵鎚的手，手指被潤滑油染黑，俯身在一件他看起來很難看的東西上面。
「你說話像那些大人！」他說。
他的話讓我感到羞愧。但是他接著又殘忍地說：「你把一切都搞混了...把每件事都搞混了！」
他真的很生氣，一頭金色的捲髮在微風中擺盪著。
「我在一個星球認識某個紅臉的先生，他的生活裡除了做加法以外什麼也沒有，他從來沒聞過一朵花，從沒看過一顆星星，從沒愛過一個人。只會整天像你一樣的說：『我在忙重要的事情！』而且還引以自豪，但這不是人，這是蘑菇。」
「是什麼？」我問。
「蘑菇。」小王子現在氣到臉都白了。
他又說：「花長刺幾百萬年了，綿羊吃花也幾百萬年了。而去瞭解為什麼花要這麼費事的去長那些對他們來說是沒用的刺，不是重要的事？綿羊和花之間的這場戰爭不重要？難道這沒有比那位紅臉先生的加法還重要？假如我認識了一朵只有長在我的星球上、其他星球都沒有的、世界上獨一無二的花，可是某一天早上綿羊卻把她吃掉，而且還不曉得自己做了什麼，你覺得這個不重要？」
接著他的臉從蒼白轉成紅色：「假如一個人愛上一朵花，就像愛上成千上萬顆繁星中的一個，只要仰望那些星星就足以讓他感到快樂，他可以對自己說：『我的花在那裡的某個地方』但是如果綿羊把花吃掉了，這對他來說，不就好像所有的星光都熄滅了，你覺得這個不重要嗎？」
他已經講不下去了，他開始啜泣起來。
夜幕低垂，我放下我手上的工具，也放下我的鐵鎚、螺絲、口渴和死亡的念頭。現在，在一顆星星、一顆行星、在我住的行星、在地球上，有一位小王子需要我的安慰！我把他抱在懷裡搖晃著，我對他說：「你所喜歡的那朵花不會有危險的...我要給你的綿羊畫個嘴套...我要給你的花周圍畫個柵欄...我...」我不曉得該怎麼跟他說。我又尷尬又煩燥，不曉得要怎樣親近他，再次跟他言歸於好。
這就是神秘的地方，為大地流的眼淚。
On 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, he demanded:
"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?"
I did not know. At that moment I was very busy trying to unscrew a bolt that had got stuck in my engine. I was very much worried, for it was becoming clear to me that the breakdown of my plane was extremely serious. And I had so little drinking-water left that I had to fear for the worst.
"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 naďve. 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 any one. 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!"
"A what?"
"A mushroom!"
The little prince was now white with rage.
"The flowers have been growing thorns for millions of years. For millions of years the sheep have been eating them just the same. And is it not a matter of consequence to try to understand why the flowers go to so much trouble to grow thorns which are never of any use to them? Is the warfare between the sheep and the flowers not important? Is this not of more consequence than a fat red-faced gentleman's sums? And if I know--I, myself--one flower which is unique in the world, which grows nowhere but on my planet, but which one little sheep can destroy in a single bite some morning, without even noticing what he is doing--Oh! You think that is not important!"
His face turned from white to red as he continued:
"If some one 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!"
He could not say anything more. His words were choked by sobbing.
The night had fallen. I had let my tools drop from my hands. Of what moment now was my hammer, my bolt, or thirst, or death? 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.
註：《小王子》是法國童話，法文原書名為Le Petit Prince，作者是聖艾修伯里，1943年在紐約出版，被譯成超過 180種語言，銷售量超過8千萬冊，還有拍成電影和動畫片、改編成話劇和音樂劇演出。圖片出處：http://www.odaha.com
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