Texto español

English text

An Eagle sat on a lofty rock, waiting for the arrival of the Hares. An archer, who saw the Eagle from a place of concealment, took an accurate aim and wounded him mortally.
The Eagle gave one look at the arrow and saw in that single glance that it was build with feathers of his own species. "It is a double grief to me," he exclaimed, "that I should perish by an arrow feathered from my own wings."
Our pain is deeper when we are defeated by our own weapons.