Full resolution (TIFF) - On this page / på denna sida - The Zather Dale.
<< prev. page << föreg. sida << >> nästa sida >> next page >>
Below is the raw OCR text
from the above scanned image.
Do you see an error? Proofread the page now!
Här nedan syns maskintolkade texten från faksimilbilden ovan.
Ser du något fel? Korrekturläs sidan nu!
This page has been proofread at least once.
(diff)
(history)
Denna sida har korrekturlästs minst en gång.
(skillnad)
(historik)
no one had any desire to come out in such
weather. The rushes in the marsh bent and
waved; it was a real rain feast for them, and it
whistled from the tops of the rushes: “We
drink with our feet, we drink with out heads,
we drink with the whole body, and yet we
stand on one leg, hurra! We drink with the
bending willow, with the dripping flowers on
the bank; their cups run over – the marsh
marigold, that fine lady, can bear it better!
Hurra! it is a feast! it pours, it pours; we
whistle and we sing; it is out own song.
Tomorrow the frogs will croak the same after us
and say, ’it is quite new!’”
And the rushes waved, and the rain pattered
down with a splashing noise – it was fine
weather to travel in to Zäther Dale, and to see
its far-famed beauties. The whip-lash now
came off the whip; it was fastened on again,
and again, and every time it was shorter, so
that at last there was not a lash, nor was there
any handle, for the handle went after the lash –
or sailed after it – as the road was quite
<< prev. page << föreg. sida << >> nästa sida >> next page >>
