[Prince Myshkin&Le Petit Prince] The Messenger
把公爵和小王子crossover的《信使》渣翻成了英文，大概2600词的样子，希望看起来是顺畅的吧……OTL
跟中文版内容一致，表达略有不同。
The Messenger
It's been a long time since the little prince came back home. He had been busy looking after his precious rose and hardly spared any time chasing th sunset.
She was still angry with him and refused to talk (more or less pretending to be so), but the little prince didn't mind it. He weeded her little garden, watered her leaves and flowerspeacefully and silently. The rose tried to start a conversation before long, first were just casual small talks, complaining about sunlight and air and baobabs…
One morning, the rose shook him up. Normally she was the later one to get up, but today something was different.
“Look! What's that?”She pointed at a huge box lying outside the little prince's house. It seemed to appear from nowhere…wasn't there last night as she remembered.
The little prince blinked his eyes, just got himself out from a weird dream. He circled around the box and carefully surveyed the strange guest. The wrapping paper crumpled a bit, with three air holes on one side of it. It looked very familiar to him. The little prince suddenly recognised: it was the sheep box drawn by his pilot friend! Except that this one was much bigger…then it must be a big sheep.
He approached the box and gently unwrapped it, making sure that he would not wake the sleeping creature. But inside the box it was a man, not a sheep. It must be a long trip to travel all the way here, because he looked so weary and deep in sleep. Brown hair hanging meekly over his forehead, eyes still closed, but his lips pressed into a hardline, as if carved by a horrible nightmare. The man was in a black suit, which resembled many grown-ups the little prince knew, but the way he curled up to fit into the box seemed rather curious.
The rose leaned in eagerly, but she could not move or see anything. She demanded: “What's inside? Tell me!”
“It's a grown-up, but looked like a child.”Said the little prince.
The sun gradually rose up, so did the grown-up. He opened his eyes and saw a small blonde head, then he smiled and friendly greeted:”Hello there.”
The little prince looked into him seriously (a child had to be very careful when encountered a grown-up because they were so good at disguising) and then introduced himself, such as his name, his residence B612, and the other resident over there. And now it's eight o'clock in the morning.
“I am Prince Lyev Nikolaevitch Myshkin. Thank you for saving my life.”
“What prince?”The little one had never heard of such a name. Wasn't it long enough to be a comet?
“Prince…it's just a name.”
“Soyou are a prince like me?”The blonde tilted his head and considered for a moment. Well, that could be the second common point between them two.
“Yes, just like you.”
The little prince started to grow fondof him, not because of his title (who knew what good it did to anything or anyone), but his rare honesty towards children. He was not like the other grown-ups, who made boring jokes or refused to answer his question. It's a universal truth that the little prince never let go of a question.
They walked around B612 for three times (after all the planet was quite small for a full height grown-up) before the rose finally dressed up. The little prince introduced Myshkin to her. And of courseshe showed her graceful reserved manner and turned her face away, yawning about the excess exposure to sunlight. Prince Myshkin moved carefully to block the hot light, he bent over and apologised: “I am sorry to disturb, my lady.”
The rose looked around and stared curiously at him, as if surprised by his humbleness and politeness.
The little prince took his new friend to visit those new-born saplings. He shoveled and said,”You know, she is aproud rose,”he smiled when spoke of her name,”very beautiful, but proud just as much. She has thorns of course…but I like her anyway.”
“I think I understand,”said Prince Myshkin. This rose reminded him of a beautiful and proud woman he once knew very well of.
Prince Myshkin seemed rather unhappy, as the little one observed. The grown-up spent days and nights watching the sunset, much more frequently than other resident on the planet. But whenever he was summoned, he always turned back and smiled warmly, never explained what was troubling him. The little prince attributed this bad habit to the world of grown-ups: they refused to revealed their true feelings.
He put on a wind shield for his precious rose and then sat down beside Prince Myshkin,“Why did you come to my planet then?”He wanted to know more about his friend's past. What a mystery! Who would travel in a sheep box like him?
Prince Myshkin thought for a moment and answered:”I haven't figured it out either. I was here when I woke up. The sunset was so beautiful…it must be god's plan.”
“Who is god? Someone like a messenger? Or a courier travelling between planets?”The little one wondered, that was the first concept occurred to him when related to“sending Myshkin here in a parcel”.
“That's a good question, but hard to be explained in short. He's similar to a messenger, only to travel between human hearts. There must be a reason that he sent me here, but I'm not quite sure what was the purpose. “ Myshkin picked one of the simplest explanations from his dictionary, whose entry of“god”contained multiple interpretations.
“Do you not eager to work it out?”The little prince fixed his eyes on him. His friend seemed gravely ill, but could not heal by himself.
“I think…that day will come. He always has a plan for me.” Myshkin lowered hishead without meeting little prince's gaze. Shadows crawled upon his face and buried his blue eyes.
“But…”The little prince was still confused,“When that day comes, how do you go back home?”
“There is no home to go back to.” Prince Myshkin stopped hiding and raised his head.He looked very sad and pale. Once he lived in a paradise without knowing it. It was in Switzerland, where every breath was fresh. He was so used to spending a whole day enjoying those distant falls and ancient castles, just like watching the sunset on B612. Later on he came to St. Petersburg, settled in a big city and tried to fit in with crowds. Memories lived again as he recalled. Those unforgettable people…he could never forget!
“There is no way back.”He woke the dream with a heartbroken full stop.
“Why not? Did…they pass away?”It occurred to the little prince that some earth people could be very upset on loss of families and friends.
Myshkin suddenly held his own arms and shivered all over. He first nodded and then shook his head. He murmured:“It's too much…all the pain and heartbroken moments…way too much…”
The little prince reached out to steady him. He wished comfort his friend but didn't know how to do it, nor did he understand his friend's deep sorrow.
“I hoped to drink from the waters of HIS grace, but HE was silent…I can't feel him any more and I don't know why he abandoned me…”Myshkin kept talking to himself. It was him to blame. He deserved them all, he ought to be driven out from paradise, and pushed away from all those lovely people.“Arrogance is the sin. OnceI had a feeling that, there is no such despair that could overcome my thirst for life, but I was wrong…”
“……I've lost HIM, lost HIM forever!”Myshkin buried his head in his arms and let tears wet his sleeves.
The little prince sat alone beneath the beautiful starry night, thinking about his dear pilot friend. The pilot's planet was so far away that he couldn't recognise it on the huge blue canvas.
“If only you can hear me! If only someone could tell me, how can I help my poor prince?”The blonde one made a wish silently. Stars were blinking, like thousands of warm bright eyes, but none of them answered back. He remembered the time when he left home and decided:”Maybe I should just walk with him, and talk.”
His B612 had not yet travelled to thebest departure point. The current rotation speed was not fast enough to take off, but he figured out some plans to cheer Myshkin up. He shared with him the fun stories during his last journey and even scratched some drafts for illustration. Myshkin was amused several times, especially by the businessman who counted stars.
“He made quite an account! But what's the point of it if he never really communicated with what he owned?”The little prince commented.
“Perhaps, in his view,‘ownership’means different from the others.” Myshkin thought for a moment and said,”What matters for him, is to keep records on account books, not in one's heart.”
“Is it true that all businessmen think like him?”The little prince wondered.
Myshkin shook his head, “Not all ofthem. For most of the people I know, they put different things on accounts and in hearts, and sometimes they make an exchange between the two sides.”That businessman reminded him of Ganya,”I knew a man on Earth. He wished to make that kindof deal to live a happier life, but he suffered much more in the end. He even lost what he used to have.”
So the two princes shared their stories with each other. The little one mentioned his best friend fox. He pointed at the orange sun and said:” That's his colour, but he is a bit deeper.”There was no grain-field on B612, so he made the sunset a souvenir of his dear fox. He asked Myshkin:”Where are your friends? Are they living on the planet you came from?”
Myshkin sat down and watched the sunset. He pondered for a while and then said: “Once I had a friend…He was my only friend, or so I supposed he was. He had lied to me, had done terrible things to me…but no, his sin had long gone, I forgave him and loved him even more, because he suffered much more than me. But I could not forgive myself.”
The tiny sun gradually slid down and painted the sky into deeper crimson and blue. The dim gleam of light finally kissed them goodbye. Myshkin felt the gentle evening glow, but he couldn't help shivering all over, as if whipped by some horrible memories.
The little prince stood up and came closer to him, chubby hands holding him tight. He said firmly and softly: ”I think…you are not to blame.”
“Then why…why would such terrible tragedy happened? If god was taking care of us?”
The blonde one was stuck by the question. Honestly he knew nothing about religious god, except that metaphor of messenger, but he wished only to comfort his friend here and now, so he spoke:“If what you said was true, say, god is a messenger between different souls, then I think he is not responsible for thoughts and emotions that reside inside of us. The point is…He will ride his pony and deliver the message right? So that we could hear from each other? In that case, the only bad thing is to lock up the mailbox…If anything wrong could be done.”
Myshkin raised his head and looked at him surprisedly. He jumped up suddenly, hugged the little prince and kissed his soft blonde hair, as if he had just saved a hopeless patient. Myshkin then murmured: “You are right my friend! How can I lock it up? How can I do that?”
He held the little prince high in arms and span gratefully for three times.
Days on B612 flipped over. Myshkin enjoyed the starry night much more than sunset now. He often spent the whole night watching the vast beautiful sky silently, till the first drop of dew joined his hair. The little prince told him that his dear pilot friend also lived on Earth, which was an ordinary planet in the huge cosmos.
The little prince worried for Myshkin and sighed:” I don't know how to get back to Earth. Do you think the cosmic messenger can do it? No…I don't think so.”His last visit to Earth was merely a coincidence (a probability question). Maybe he should call back the birds? They might have some ideas of the flight routes, but the migration season had yet tocome.
It didn't bother Prince Myshkin that much though, he started to prepare himself kites for travelling.
“I used to live in Swiss countryside, where I played with children every day. Theywere so smart! You know, they taught me how to make a kite. When the weather was fine, we flied them just beneath the crystal-blue sky…Clouds and winds were so soft in those days…those kites always ended up stuck on the tree!”He smiledtenderly when he recalled the country days, and then he covered his face and cried,”Oh god, dear god…how can I forget them!”
He had already made up his mind, but the more he planned, the more scared he was. Fear of homeland grew with each passing day. He saw her face in sweet dreams and horrifying nightmares. His dear Russia had corrupted and degenerated, swaying between faith and doubt, sometimes even became awfully hateful. But it was endless suffering that awoke endless love.
The little prince wished to help Myshkin, but his friend's sad story made him hesitated. Earth might not be good enough for a broken heart. But he couldn't tell for sure, so he asked:” Why insist on going back home?”
Prince Myshkin sat down and looked into his eyes:”It is not pain that I fear. It is the lack of courage, of faith and tolerance. But thank god, HE had brought me here to meet you.”
Finally came the perihelion day. At a specific moment on this day, the rotation speed of B612 reached its peak, which was best for travelling by kites. Prince Myshkin put his hand-made kites in a row, pulled all the lines together and bound himself with them. Soon those lovely paper birds drank their fill of wind, spread their wings and flied high up in the sky.
The little prince stood and stared at Myshkin, eyes filled with tears. It seemed that they had already tamed each other during these few months. He sobbed and said goodbye: “I will miss you! Like my friend fox!”
Myshkin came close to him and kissed him softly. He smiled:”Thank you, my dear friend. Don't worry about me, I've found my well of grace.”He cut the rope loose and waved one last time. Then he sailed with the wind and flew into the sky.
The little prince gazed after him until he finally disappeared from view. He put his palms together and started praying, which he learned from Myshkin not long ago. It was said that a fine prayer could speed the Messenger and help HIM land safely on one's heart.
So he prayed.
END
