فصل چهاردهم

Chapter fourteen

The fifth planet was very strange. It was the smallest of all. There was just enough room for a street lamp and a lamplighter. The little prince couldn’t quite understand what use a street lamp and a lamplighter could be up there in the sky, on a planet without any people and not a single house.

However, he said to himself, “It’s quite possible that this man is absurd, but he’s less absurd than the king, the very vain man, the businessman, and the drunkard. At least his work has some meaning. When he lights his lamp, it’s as if he’s bringing one more star to life, or one more flower. When he puts out his lamp, that sends the flower or the star to sleep. Which is a fine occupation. And therefore truly useful.”

When the little prince reached this planet, he greeted the lamplighter respectfully.

“Good morning. Why have you just put out your lamp?”

“Orders,” the lamplighter answered. “Good morning.”

“What orders are those?”

“To put out my street lamp. Good evening.”

And he lit his lamp again.

“But why have you just lit your lamp again?”

“Orders.”

“I don’t understand,” said the little prince. “There’s nothing to understand,” said the lamplighter; “Orders are orders. Good morning.” And he put out his lamp. Then he wiped his forehead with a red-checked handkerchief.

“It’s a terrible job I have. It used to be reasonable enough. I put the lamp out mornings and lit it after dark. I had the rest of the day for my own affairs, and the rest of the night for sleeping.”

“And since then orders have changed?”

“Orders haven’t changed,” the lamplighter said. “That’s just the trouble! Year by year the planet is turning faster and faster, and orders haven’t changed!”

“Which means?”

“Which means that now that the planet revolves once a minute, I don’t have an instant’s rest. I light my lamp and turn it out once every minute!”

“That’s funny! Your days here are one minute long!”

“It’s not funny at all,” the lamplighter said. “You and I have already been talking to each other for a month.”

“A month?”

“Yes. Thirty minutes. Thirty days! Good evening.” And he lit his lamp.

The little prince watched him, growing fonder and fonder of this lamplighter who was so faithful to orders. He remembered certain sunsets that he himself used to follow in other days, merely by shifting his chair. He wanted to help his friend.

“You know… I can show you a way to take a rest whenever you want to.”

“I always want to rest,” the lamplighter said, for it is possible to be faithful and lazy at the same time.

The little prince continued, “Your planet is so small that you can walk around it in three strides. All you have to do is walk more slowly, and you’ll always be in the sun. When you want to take a rest just walk… and the day will last as long as you want it to.”

“What good does that do me” the lamplighter said, “when the one thing in life I want to do is sleep?”

“Then you’re out of luck,” said the little prince.

“I am,” said the lamplighter. “Good morning.” And he put out his lamp.

“Now that man,” the little prince said to himself as he continued on his journey, “that man would be despised by all the others, by the king, by the very vain man, by the drunkard, by the businessman.

Yet he’s the only one who doesn’t strike me as ridiculous. Perhaps it’s because he’s thinking of something beside himself.

” He heaved a sigh of regret and said to himself, again, “That man is the only one I might have made my friend. But his planet is really too small. There’s not room for two…”

What the little prince dared not admit was that he most regretted leaving that planet because it was blessed with one thousand, four hundred forty sunsets every twenty-four hours!