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Yazar: Adam Mickiewicz

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The little gardener, filled with curiosity, raised her blue eyes
and seemed to scrutinise him, for a thousand steps away the house
was in plain sight, and the Count was asking the way! But the
Count needs must say something to her, and was seeking an excuse
for conversation.
"Do you live here? near the garden? or in the village? How
happens it that I have not seen you at the mansion? Have you come
recently? Perhaps you are a visitor?"
The girl shook her head.
"Pardon me, my little lady, but is not that your room, where we
see the window?"
"If she is not a heroine of romance," he was thinking to himself,
"she is a young and fresh and very pretty girl. Very often a
great soul, a great thought, hidden in solitude, blooms like the
rose in the midst of the forest; it will be sufficient to bring
it forth to the light, and put it before the sun, to have it
amaze by a thousand bright colours those who gaze upon it!"

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