Снігова королева
Of the Flower-Garden At the Old Woman’s Who Unders
"Hearestthounotthedrum?Bum!Bum! Thosearetheonlytwotones.Alwaysbum!Bum!Harktotheplaintivesongoftheoldwoman,tothecallofthepriests! TheHindoowomaninherlongrobestandsuponthefuneralpile;theflamesrisearoundherandherdeadhusband,buttheHindoowomanthinksonthelivingoneinthesurroundingcircle;onhimwhoseeyesburnhotterthantheflames —onhim,thefireofwhoseeyespiercesherheartmorethantheflameswhichsoonwillburnherbodytoashes.Cantheheart’sflamedieintheflameofthefuneralpile?"
"Idon’tunderstandthatatall,"saidlittleGerda.
"Thatismystory,"saidtheLily.
WhatdidtheConvolvulussay?
"Projectingoveranarrowmountain-paththerehangsanoldfeudalcastle. Thickevergreensgrowonthedilapidatedwalls,andaroundthealtar,wherealovelymaidenisstanding:shebendsovertherailingandlooksoutupontherose. Nofresherrosehangsonthebranchesthanshe;noappleblossomcarriedawaybythewindismorebuoyant!Howhersilkenrobeisrustling!
"’Ishenotyetcome?’"
"IsitKaythatyoumean?"askedlittleGerda.
"Iamspeakingaboutmystory—aboutmydream,"answeredtheConvolvulus.
WhatdidtheSnowdropssay?
