silver mists.

Rabbit sat down in the midst of the blossoming grass. He was happy
that at that hour all sounds were harmonious, and that one hardly knew
whether the calls were those of quails or of crystal springs.

Were all human beings dead? There was one watching at some distance;
he was making movements above the water, and noiselessly withdrawing
his dripping and shimmering net. But only the heart of the waters was
troubled, Rabbit's remained calm.

And, lo, between the angelicas something that looked like a ball bit
by bit came into view. It was his best-beloved approaching. Rabbit ran
toward her until they met deep in the blue aftercrop of grass. Their
little noses touched. And for a moment in the midst of the wild
sorrel, they exchanged kisses. They played. Then slowly, side by
side, guided by hunger, they set out for a small farm lying low in the
shadow. In the poor vegetable garden into which they penetrated there
were crisp cabbages and spicy thyme. Nearby the stable was breathing;
the pig protruded its mobile snout, sniffing, under the door of its
sty.

Thus the night passed in eating and amatory sport. Little by little
the darkness stirred beneath the dawn. Shining spots appeared in the
distance. Everything began to quiver. An absurd cock, perched on
the chicken-house, rent the silence. He crowed as if possessed, and
clapped applause for himself with the stumps of his wings.

Rabbit and his wife went their separate ways at the threshold of the
hedge of thorns and roses. Crystal-like, as it were, a village emerged