17. A little girl
Sitting on a grassy grave beneath one of the windows of church was a little girl. With her head bent back, she was gazing up the sky and singing while her little hand point to tiny cloud that hover like a golden feather above her head. The sun which suddenly becomes very bright, shining on her glossy hair, give mataliclasser, and it was difficult to say what was the color, dark bronze or black, so completely absorb while she watching the cloud with her strange song or incantation, seemed addressed, that she did not observe may when I rose and went towards her. Over her head, high up the blue, a larked was soaring towards to the same gorsy cloud singing as her rivalry. As I slowly approached the child, I could see by her forehead which in the sun shine seemed a globe of pearl and special by her complexion, that she was uncommonly lovely. Her eyes which one moment seemed blue grey add another violet was shaded by long black lashes curved backward in the most peculiar way, and this matched(some word here missing) in her eyebrows and tresses her toss about her tender throat and rekuivering in the sunlight. All this I didn’t take at once, at first I could nothing but rekuivering glittering changeful eyes turned up to my face gradually, the other features, especially the sensitive, fullipped mouth group on me as I stood silently gazing. Here seems to me more perfect beauty then had ever come to me in my loveliest dream of beauty, yet was not her beauty so much as the look she gave me, the fascinated me, melted me.
