Oh, how beautiful you are! cried the girl, dressed in a red dress, jumping on one leg for joy and waving butterfly nets, around a large butterfly, with wings sprinkled with red and edged with yellow, orange and everything fine, blue, like a lace The Duchess. Please let me fly! - pray, through tears, quiet and large, the dew, the butterfly.
Impossible, you must come, you stick a needle and to sit on a new page of insectary! And my friends to see the beauty of butterfly I caught myself - to crack of despite! Iu-huuu! - shouting in delirium, little girl, hopping on one leg and turning and, more ominously, like a heavy ax of war, net.
Please let me live!, Butterfly prayed, and dew to bleed, gradually consuming on-sleeves and then close and tense girl's hands. You can not like to let you live, when we gather all afternoon kindergarten colleagues? I give them ready for what? Say! - shout, with quarrelsomeness, girl in red is restless, anxious, and patter of feet.
Please, I will come tomorrow, here, I promise - I will come every day, to meet you, always here, and will shine more and more beautiful with every day of your life -wailing butterfly, and the blood trickled girl hands clean, bright and reprimanded.
I do not care, I do not want to know tomorrow - now I get you, sting you now, now you put the insectary - and the afternoon of my friends do know that I will make them crack with envy - its relentless cries ago, the girl in red, all red.
And it caught the poor butterfly in the net - but the colors of imperial scales of red and yellow, and orange and blue, blue as the deepest and mysterious depths of the sky - or because they place too much agitated girl, either because the butterfly too agonized and painful - were shaken and scattered.
Never left but a poor gray body of some insect. And wings started to get ragged and then they gotten broken. Not complain too much (a little whole plan, the trouble that afternoon, will not have the means to make them crack the strange play her companions, her best friend) - excruciating body pierced girl, who now have worm something in it - and no ball flight and the flight celestial imperial - is pierced with a pin high, went home and caught the butterfly insectary, now poor worm, which hung two crude stumps that had, once, wings.
The next morning, at the field, where he had been netted noble imperial butterfly, a beautiful woman in black, gathered, wailing, dew drops of blood. Beside it, a towering old, with long beard and white thinker, clothed in black, holding in his hand, waiting for a huge golden chalice.
