The white, slender swans are swimming, swimming toward the shore. There they calmly moult and their feathers fly away .
Towards evening when the water is warm and red from the bloody glow, they become more weary and indolent; they doze — they are already asleep .
Their beaks are tucked under their wings. Who knows, who understands their dream! They awake for a moment and float on in slumber .
And at a late hour, when a wild bird loudly shrieks, the swans sleep no longer — terror overwhelms them .
They swim around in the darkness, glancing up and down, and they swallow the golden stars that are reflected in the water .