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"
Yes
,
"
I
said
to
the
little
prince
,
"
whether
it
's
a
house
or
the
stars
or
the
desert
,
what
makes
them
beautiful
is
invisible
!
"
"
I
'm
glad
,
"
he
said
,
"
you
agree
with
my
fox
.
"
As
the
little
prince
was
falling
asleep
,
I
picked
him
up
in
my
arms
,
and
started
walking
again
.
I
was
moved
.
It
was
as
if
I
was
carrying
a
fragile
treasure
.
It
actually
seemed
to
me
there
was
nothing
more
fragile
on
Earth
.
By
the
light
of
the
moon
,
I
gazed
at
that
pale
forehead
,
those
closed
eyes
,
those
locks
of
hair
trembling
in
the
wind
,
and
I
said
to
myself
,
"
What
I
'm
looking
at
is
only
a
shell
.
What
's
most
important
is
invisible
...
"
As
his
lips
parted
in
a
half
smile
,
I
said
to
myself
,
again
,
"
What
moves
me
so
deeply
about
this
sleeping
little
prince
is
his
loyalty
to
a
flower
-
the
image
of
a
rose
shining
within
him
like
the
flame
within
a
lamp
,
even
when
he
's
asleep
...
"
And
I
realized
he
was
even
more
fragile
than
I
had
thought
.
Lamps
must
be
protected
:
a
gust
of
wind
can
blow
them
out
...
"
And
walking
on
like
that
,
I
found
the
well
at
daybreak
.
The
little
prince
said
,
"
People
start
out
in
express
trains
,
but
they
no
longer
know
what
they
're
looking
for
.
Then
they
get
all
excited
and
rush
around
in
circles
...
"
And
he
added
,
"
It
's
not
worth
the
trouble
...
"
The
well
we
had
come
to
was
not
at
all
like
the
wells
of
the
Sahara
.
The
wells
of
the
Sahara
are
no
more
than
holes
dug
in
the
sand
.
This
one
looked
more
like
a
village
well
.
But
there
was
no
village
here
,
and
I
thought
I
was
dreaming
.
"
It
's
strange
,
"
I
said
to
the
little
prince
,
"
everything
is
ready
:
the
pulley
,
the
bucket
,
and
the
rope
...
"
