Ihaveneveryettoldthisstory.Thecompanionswhometmeonmyreturnwerewellcontenttoseemealive.Iwassad,butItoldthem:"Iamtired."
Nowmysorrowiscomfortedalittle.Thatistosay--notentirely.ButIknowthathedidgobacktohisplanet,becauseIdidnotfindhisbodyatdaybreak.Itwasnotsuchaheavybody...andatnightIlovetolistentothestars.Itislikefivehundredmillionlittlebells...
Butthereisoneextraordinarything...whenIdrewthemuzzleforthelittleprince,Iforgottoaddtheleatherstraptoit.Hewillneverhavebeenabletofastenitonhissheep.SonowIkeepwondering:whatishappeningonhisplanet?Perhapsthesheephaseatentheflower...
AtonetimeIsaytomyself:"Surelynot!Thelittleprinceshutshisflowerunderherglassglobeeverynight,andhewatchesoverhissheepverycarefully..."ThenIamhappy.Andthereissweetnessinthelaughterofallthestars.
ButatanothertimeIsaytomyself:"Atsomemomentorotheroneisabsent-minded,andthatisenough!Onsomeoneeveningheforgottheglassglobe,orthesheepgotout,withoutmakinganynoise,inthenight..."Andthenthelittlebellsarechangedtotears...
Here,then,isagreatmystery.Foryouwhoalsolovethelittleprince,andforme,nothingintheuniversecanbethesameifsomewhere,wedonotknowwhere,asheepthatweneversawhas--yesorno?--eatenarose...
Lookupatthesky.Askyourselves:isityesorno?Hasthesheepeatentheflower?Andyouwillseehoweverythingchanges...
Thisis,tome,theloveliestandsaddestlandscapeintheworld.Itisthesameasthatontheprecedingpage,butIhavedrawnitagaintoimpressitonyourmemory.ItisherethatthelittleprinceappearedonEarth,anddisappeared.
LookatitcarefullysothatyouwillbesuretorecogniseitincaseyoutravelsomedaytotheAfricandesert.And,ifyoushouldcomeuponthisspot,pleasedonothurryon.Waitforatime,exactlyunderthestar.Then,ifalittlemanappearswholaughs,whohasgoldenhairandwhorefusestoanswerquestions,youwillknowwhoheis.Ifthisshouldhappen,pleasecomfortme.Sendmewordthathehascomeback.
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