Explore Chapter 7 of 'The Little Prince' with the original English text, English translation, detailed IELTS vocabulary and explanations, and audio of the English original. Listen and improve your reading skills.
On the fifth day, once again because of the sheep, I learned the secret of the little prince's life.
Suddenly, without any warning, as if he had been thinking quietly about it for a long time, he asked: "If a sheep eats small bushes, does it eat flowers too?"
"A sheep," I replied, "eats whatever it can reach."
"Even flowers with thorns?"
I didn't know. At that time, I was busy trying to loosen a bolt stuck in my engine. I was very worried because I realized my plane's problem was very bad. And I had very little water left, so I was afraid of the worst.
The little prince never forgot a question once he asked it. I was annoyed by the bolt. And I said the first thing I thought: "The thorns are useless. Flowers have thorns just to be mean!"
There was a moment of silence. Then the little prince replied angrily: "I don't believe you! Flowers are weak. They are innocent. They try to comfort themselves. They think their thorns are powerful weapons..."
I didn't answer. At that moment, I was thinking: "If this bolt doesn't move, I'll hit it with the hammer." Again the little prince interrupted me: "Do you really think that flowers—"
"Oh, no!" I shouted. "No, no, no! I don't believe anything. I just said the first thing I thought. Can't you see—I'm very busy with important things!"
He looked at me, shocked.
He looked at me, with my hammer in hand, my fingers dirty from engine grease, leaning over something that looked very ugly to him...
"You sound just like adults!"
That made me a bit ashamed. But he continued, without stopping: "You mix everything up... You make everything confused..."
He was very angry. He shook his golden hair in the wind.
"I know a planet with a red-faced man. He has never smelled a flower. He has never looked at a star. He has never loved anyone. He only adds numbers all his life. And all day he repeats, just like you: 'I'm busy with important things!' And that makes him proud. But he is not a man—he is a mushroom!"
The little prince was now pale with anger.
"Flowers have had thorns for millions of years. For millions of years, sheep have eaten them anyway. Isn't it important to understand why flowers grow thorns that don't help them? Isn't the fight between sheep and flowers important? Isn't this more important than a fat red-faced man's calculations? And if I know—I myself—one flower that is the only one in the world, that grows only on my planet, but a little sheep can eat it in one bite one morning, without even knowing—Oh! You think that's not important!"
His face went from pale to red as he went on: "If someone loves a flower, and there's only one like it in all the stars, just looking at the stars makes him happy. He can think, 'My flower is out there somewhere...' But if the sheep eats the flower, suddenly all the stars go dark... And you think that's not important!"
He couldn't say more. His words were stopped by crying.
Night had come. I dropped my tools. What did my hammer, my bolt, thirst, or death matter now? On one star, one planet, Earth, there was a little prince who needed comfort. I held him in my arms and rocked him. I said: "The flower you love is safe. I'll draw a muzzle for your sheep. I'll draw a fence for your flower. I will—"
I didn't know what to say. I felt clumsy and unsure. I didn't know how to connect with him, how to catch up and walk with him again.