Pagina 389 di 788

Maciej was warming himself in the sun after finishing his

prayers, and was already setting about his household work. He

brought out grass and leaves; he sat down in front of his house

and whistled: at this whistle a multitude of rabbits bobbed up

from beneath the ground. Like narcissuses suddenly blooming above

the grass, their long ears shine white; beneath them their bright

eyes glitter like bloody rubies thickly sown in the velvet of the

greensward. Now the rabbits sit up, and each listens and gazes

around; finally the whole white, furry herd run to the old man,

allured by leaves of cabbage; they jump to his feet, on his

knees, on his shoulders: himself white as a rabbit, he loves to

gather them around him and stroke their warm fur with his hand;

but with his other hand he throws millet on the grass for the

sparrows, and the noisy rabble drop from the roofs.