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The little prince chapped four part three

But certainly for us who understand alive

Figures are a matter of indifference

I should have like to begin this story in the fashion of the fertiles

I should have black to say once upon a time

There was a little prince who lived on a planet

That was scarcely any bigger than himself

And who had need of a shape to those who understand alive

That would have given a much greater air of truth to my story

For i do not want anyone to read my book

Carelessly i have suffered too much grief in setting down these memories six years have already passed

Since my friend went away from me with his sheep

If i try to describe him here

It is to make sure that i should not forget him

To forget a friend

It said not everyone has had a friend

And if i forget him

I may become like the grownups

Who are no longer interested in anything

But figures it is for that purpose again

That i have bought a box of pants and some pencils

It is hard to take up drawings again at my age

When i have never made any pictures except those of the bororgh constructor from the outside

And the bororgh constructor from the inside

Since i was six

I should certainly try to make my portraits as true to life as possible

But i am not at all sure of success

One drawing goes along all right

And another has no resemblance to its subject

I make some errors too in the little prince heart in one place he is too tall and in another too short

And i feel some doubts about the color of his costume

So i fumble along as best as i can no good no bad

And i hope generally fail to middling in certain more important details

I shall make mistakes also

But that is something

That will not be my fault

My friend never explained anything to me

He thought perhaps that i was like himself

But i alas do not know how to see sheep through the walls of boxes

Perhaps

I am a little like the grown nups

I have had to grow old