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听书 | The Little Prince(小王子)- 07

蔡雷英语 2020-11-17



《小王子》是法国作家安托万·德·圣·埃克苏佩里(Antoine de Saint-Exupéry )于1942年写成的著名儿童文学短篇小说。本书的主人公是来自外星球的小王子。


书中以一位飞行员作为故事叙述者,讲述了小王子从自己星球出发前往地球的过程中,所经历的各种历险。作者以小王子的孩子式的眼光,透视出成人的空虚、盲目,愚妄和死板教条,用浅显天真的语言写出了人类的孤独寂寞、没有根基随风流浪的命运。同时,也表达出作者对金钱关系的批判,对真善美的讴歌。


Antoine de Saint-Exupéry (《小王子》作者)

圣埃克苏佩里(1900-1944),法国作家。他是法国最早的一代飞行员之一。1940年流亡美国,侨居纽约,埋头文学创作。1943年参加盟军在北非的抗战。1944年他在执行第八次飞行侦察任务时失踪。其作品主要描述飞行员生活,代表作有小说《夜航》,散文集《人类的大地》《空军飞行员》,童话《小王子》等。


Peter Ustinov(英)(《小王子》朗读者)

Peter Ustinov(英),生于英国伦敦,著名演员、导演。中国观众最为熟知的角色为《尼罗河惨案》《阳光下的罪恶》等电影里那位穿着白西装形象可爱,绅士又不失幽默的大侦探波洛。

往期目录

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朗读 Peter Ustinov【英】 | 译者:周克希

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 naive. 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.



第五天,还是羊的事情,把小王子生活的秘密向我揭开了。他好像有个问题默默地思索了很久,终于得出了结论,突然没头没脑地问我:


“绵羊既然吃灌木,那它也吃花儿?”

“它碰到什么吃什么。”

“连有刺的花儿也吃?”

“对。有刺的也吃。”

“那么,刺有什么用呢?”


我不知道该怎么回答。当时我正忙着要从发动机上卸下一颗拧得太紧的螺钉。我发现故障似乎很严重,饮用水也快完了。我担心会发生最坏的情况,心里很着急。


“那么,刺有什么用呢?”


小王子只要提了一个问题,就不依不饶地要得到答案。而那个螺钉正弄得我很恼火,我就随口回答了一句:


“刺呀,什么用都没有,纯粹是花儿想使坏呗。”

“喔!”


但他沉默了一会儿以后,忿忿然地冲着我说:


“我不信你的话!花儿是纤弱的,天真的。它们想尽量保护自己。它们以为有了刺就会显得很厉害……”


我没作声。我当时想:“要是这颗螺钉再不松开,我就一锤子敲掉它。”小王子又打断了我的思路:


“可你,你却认为花儿……”


“行了!行了!我什么也不认为!我只是随口说说。我正忙着干正事呢!”


他惊愕地望着我。

“正事!”


他看我握着锤子,手指沾满油污,俯身对着一个他觉得非常丑陋的物件。


“你说话就像那些大人!”

这话使我有些难堪。而他毫不留情地接着说:

“你什么都分不清……你把什么都搅在一起!”


他真的气极了,一头金发在风中摇曳:


我到过一个星球,上面住着一个红脸先生。他从没闻过花香。他从没望过星星。他从没爱过一个人。除了算账,他什么事也没做过。他成天像你一样说个没完:‘我有正事要干!我有正事要干!’变得骄气十足。可是这算不得一个人,他是个蘑菇。”


“是个什么?”

“是个蘑菇!”


小王子这会儿气得脸色发白了。


“几百万年以前,花儿就长刺了。可几百万年以前,羊也早就在吃花儿了。刺什么用也没有,那花儿为什么要费那份劲去长刺呢,把这弄明白难道不是正事吗?绵羊和花儿的战争难道不重要吗?这难道不比那个胖子红脸先生的算账更重要,更是正事吗?还有,如果我认识一朵世上独一无二的花儿,除了我的星球,哪儿都找不到这样的花儿,而有天早上,一只小羊甚至都不明白自己在做什么,就一口把花儿吃掉了,这难道不重要吗!”


他的脸红了起来,接着往下说:


“如果有个人爱上一朵花儿,好几百万好几百万颗星星中间,只有一颗上面长着这朵花儿,那他只要望着许许多多星星,就会感到很幸福。他对自己说:‘我的花儿就在其中的一颗星星上……’可要是绵羊吃掉了这朵花儿,这对他来说,就好像满天的星星突然一下子都熄灭了!这难道不重要吗!”


他说不下去了,突然抽抽噎噎地哭了起来。夜色降临。我放下手中的工具。锤子呀,螺钉呀,口渴呀,死亡呀,我全都丢在了脑后。在一颗星星,在一颗我所在的行星,在这个地球上,有个小王子需要安慰!我把他抱在怀里。我摇着他,对他说:“你爱的那朵花儿不会有危险的……我会给你的绵羊画一只嘴罩……我会给你的花儿画一个护栏……我……”我不知道再说什么好了。我觉得自己笨嘴笨舌的。我不知道怎样去接近他,打动他……泪水的世界,是多么神秘啊。


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