en voyage
“What! are there no roses here?” cried Gerda, and she ran out into the garden and examined all the beds, and searched and searched.
There was not one to be found. Then she sat down and wept, and her tears fell just on the place where one of the rose trees had sunk down.
Elisa s’éveilla au bruissement des ailes des cygnes. Les frères de nouveau métamorphosés volaient au-dessus d’elle, puis s’éloignèrent tout à fait; un seul, le plus jeune, demeura en arrière, il posa sa tête sur les genoux de la jeune fille qui caressa ses ailes blanches.
H.Ch. Andersen
clementineTe 
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