High above the city, on a tall column, stood the statue of the Happy Prince. He was covered with thin leaves of fine gold. His eyes were two bright blue sapphires, and a large red ruby shone on his sword. Everybody in the city admired him.

“He is as beautiful as a weathervane,” said one of the Town Councillors, “only not so useful.”

“Why can't you be like the Happy Prince?” a mother asked her little boy, who was crying for the moon. “The Happy Prince never cries for anything.”

One night, a little Swallow flew over the city. His friends had gone to Egypt six weeks before, but he had stayed behind, because he was in love with a beautiful Reed by the river. All summer he flew around her. But the Reed did not talk, and she did not want to travel. At last the Swallow got tired of her and decided to fly to Egypt alone.

All day he flew, and at night he arrived at the city. “Where shall I stay?” he said. Then he saw the statue on the tall column. “I will stay there. It is a fine place, with plenty of fresh air.” So he landed between the feet of the Happy Prince.

“I have a golden bedroom,” he said to himself, and he got ready to sleep. But just as he put his head under his wing, a large drop of water fell on him. “How strange! There is not a single cloud in the sky, but it is raining!”

Then another drop fell, and another. The Swallow looked up. The eyes of the Happy Prince were full of tears, and the tears were running down his golden cheeks.

“Who are you?” said the Swallow.

“I am the Happy Prince.”

“Why are you crying, then?”

“When I was alive and had a human heart,” said the statue, “I did not know what tears were. I lived in a palace where sadness was not allowed to enter. I played with my friends in the garden all day, and in the evening I danced. Everybody called me the Happy Prince. Now that I am dead, they have put me up here, so high that I can see all the ugliness and all the misery of my city. My heart is made of lead, but still I cannot stop crying.”