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By good luck, the door stood open and the duckling flew out among the bushes and the new fallen snow. And it lay there, thoroughly exhausted, but it would be too sad to mention all the privation and misery had to go through during that hard winter. When the sun began to shine warmly again, the duckling was in a marsh, lying among the rushes. Thelarks were singing, and the beautiful spring had come. Then all at once, it raised its wings and they flapped with much greater strength than before and bore him off vigorously. Before he knew where he was, he found himself in a large garden with the apple trees were in full blossom. And the air was scentedly with lilacs, the long branches of which overhung the indented shores of the lake.
Oh, the spring freshness was so delicious. Just in front of him, he saw three beautiful white swans advancing towards him from a 10)thicket. With 11)rustling feathers, they swam lightly over the water. The duckling recognized the majestic birds, and he was overcome by a strange melancholy.
“I will fly to them, the royal birds, and they will hack me to pieces because I who am so ugly venture to approach them. But it won’t matter. Better to be killed by them than be snacked up by the ducks, 12)pecked by the hens, or 13)spurned by the hen wife, or suffer so much misery in the winter.”
So he flew into the water and swam towards the stately swans. They saw him and darted toward him with ruffled feathers. “Kill me, oh, kill me.” said the poor creature. And bowing his head towards the water, he awaited his death. But what did he see? Reflected in the transparent water, he saw below him his own image, but he was no longer a clumsy dark gray bird, ugly and ungainly. He was himself, a swan.