So I lived my life alone, without anyone that I could really talk to, until I had an accident with my plane in the Desert of Sahara, six years ago. Something was broken in my engine. And as I had with me neither a mechanic nor any passengers, I set myself to attempt the difficult repairs all alone. It was a question of life or death for me: I had scarcely enough drinking water to last a week.
The first night, then, I went to sleep on the sand, a thousand miles from any human habitation. I was more isolated than a shipwrecked sailor on a raft in the middle of the ocean. Thus you can imagine my amazement, at sunrise, when I was awakened by an odd little voice. It said:
“If you please—draw me a sheep!”
“What!”
“Draw me a sheep!”
I jumped to my feet, completely thunderstruck. I blinked my eyes hard. I looked carefully all around me. And I saw a most extraordinary small person, who stood there examining me with great seriousness. Here you may see the best portrait that, later, I was able to make of him. But my drawing is certainly very much less charming than its model.
That, however, is not my fault. The grown-ups discouraged me in my painter's career when I was six years old, and I never learned to draw anything, except boas from the outside and boas from the inside.
Now I stared at this sudden apparition with my eyes fairly starting out of my head in astonishment. Remember, I had crashed in the desert a thousand miles from any inhabited region. And yet my little man seemed neither to be straying uncertainly among the sands, nor to be fainting from fatigue or hunger or thirst or fear. Nothing about him gave any suggestion of a child lost in the middle of the desert, a thousand miles from any human habitation. When at last I was able to speak, I said to him: “But—what are you doing here?”
And in answer he repeated, very slowly, as if he were speaking of a matter of great consequence: “If you please—draw me a sheep…”
When a mystery is too overpowering, one dare not disobey. Absurd as it might seem to me, a thousand miles from any human habitation and in danger of death, I took out of my pocket a sheet of paper and my fountain-pen. But then I remembered how my studies had been concentrated on geography, history, arithmetic, and grammar, and I told the little chap (a little crossly, too) that I did not know how to draw. He answered me:“That doesn't matter. Draw me a sheep…”
But I had never drawn a sheep. So I drew for him one of the two pictures I had drawn so often. It was that of the boa constrictor from the outside. And I was astounded to hear the little fellow greet it with, “No, no, no! I do not want an elephant inside a boa constrictor. A boa constrictor is a very dangerous creature, and an elephant is very cumbersome. Where I live, everything is very small. What I need is a sheep. Draw me a sheep.”
So then I made a drawing.
He looked at it carefully, then he said: “No. This sheep is already very sickly. Make me another.”
So I made another drawing.
My friend smiled gently and indulgently. “You see yourself,” he said, “that this is not a sheep. This is a ram. It has horns.”
So then I did my drawing over once more.
But it was rejected too, just like the others. “This one is too old. I want a sheep that will live a long time.”
By this time my patience was exhausted, because I was in a hurry to start taking my engine apart. So I tossed off this drawing.
And I threw out an explanation with it.
“This is only his box. The sheep you asked for is inside.”
I was very surprised to see a light break over the face of my young judge:
“That is exactly the way I wanted it! Do you think that this sheep will have to have a great deal of grass?”
“Why?”
“Because where I live everything is very small…”
“There will surely be enough grass for him,” I said. “It is a very small sheep that I have given you.”
He bent his head over the drawing:
“Not so small that—Look! He has gone to sleep…”
And that is how I made the acquaintance of the little prince.
我就这么孤独地活着，没有遇到过一位我能推心置腹交谈的成年人。直到六年前，我的飞机在撒哈拉沙漠发生故障，发动机里不知什么零件坏了。飞机上既没有机械师，也没有乘客。我只得单枪匹马，自己试着进行修理。对我来说，这是一个生死存亡的大考验。飞机上携带的饮用水很有限，只能维持一个星期。
第一天夜晚，我睡在远离人烟的沙漠里。我比一个漂浮在海面上的遇难者更为孤立无援。可是在太阳升起的时候，有一个奇特而轻微的声音把我弄醒了。请你们设想一下，当时我是感到多么惊奇。那声音对我说：
“请你……请你给我画一只绵羊吧！”
“什么！”
“请给我画一只绵羊。”
我一下子跳了起来，就像被雷电击中了似的。我使劲揉揉眼睛，仔细察看四周。我看见了一个非常奇特的小男孩，他正认真地瞧着我。请看，下面就是我后来给他画得最好的一幅肖像。
当然，我画的远不如他本人那么生动。这可不是我的过错。早在我六岁时，那些大人就断送了我当画家的前程，所以，除了蟒蛇整体图与蟒蛇剖面图以外，我不会画任何别的东西了。
我非常惊奇，把眼睛睁得大大的，盯着这显形的神童。请你们不要忘记，那时我正远离有人居住的地方十万八千里，而我眼前这个小人儿，看来并不像是迷了路，他不疲惫，不饥，不渴，也不认生害怕。他丝毫不像一个在荒凉可怕的沙漠中迷了路的小孩。当我定下神来能够说话时，就对他说：“怎么回事……你在这儿干什么呀？”
他用轻柔的声音，依然重复着他那个要求：“请你……给我画一只绵羊。”
神奇奥秘的东西一旦使你感到震惊，你就不敢违抗，尽管当时我觉得自己身陷渺无人迹且有生命危险的地方，遇上此事甚为荒唐可笑，我还是从自己衣袋里拿出一张纸和一支钢笔。不过，我想起了我过去专攻的课程是地理、历史、数学和语文，而不是绘画，就带点遗憾的心情对那小人儿说，我是不会画图画的。他回答说：“这不碍事。请你只画一只绵羊。”
因为我从来没有画过绵羊，就把我仅仅会画的那两幅画中的一幅，重新画了出来交给他，也就是那幅蟒蛇整体图。他的答复使我特别惊讶，他说：“不！不！我不要一头在蟒蛇肚子里的大象。一条蟒蛇太可怕，一头大象太庞大、太拥挤。我家里非常狭小，我需要的是一只绵羊。给我画一只绵羊吧！”
我只好给他画了一只。
他仔细认真地端详之后，说：“不行，这只羊已经病病歪歪的了，再给我画一只！”
我又画了一只。
我的这位小朋友和善地笑了，他宽宏大量地说：“你瞧……你画的不是一只绵羊，而是一只公羊，它有角……”
于是，我又重新画了一只。
但是，这只又遭到了他的否定，就像上两只一样。“这一只羊太老了。我要一只能活得很久很久的绵羊。”
一画再画，我实在是不耐烦了，因为我急于去修理飞机发动机。
于是，我随便涂抹了一幅，扔给了他：
“画上是一只箱子，你要的那只绵羊就在箱子里。”
可是，我的这位小小裁判官却笑逐颜开了，这真使我感到意外。他对我说：
“这正是我想要的！你说说，这只绵羊要吃很多很多草吗？”
“你问这干什么？”
“因为我家里很狭小……”
“箱子里的草肯定够它吃，我给你画的是一只特小的绵羊。”
他低下头去看看那张图画，说：
“也不是那么小呀……瞧！它在箱子里睡着了……”
我就是这么认识小王子的。