An eagle, flying high above a peak,
Was looking to the ground with much conceit,
He had brown feathers and a steel-like beak,
As well as sharp, long talons at his feet.

He was august, a king without a crown,
But having two impressive shining wings,
A bird who felt reluctant to come down
Into this realm of bad and ugly things.

A crow was croaking with a greedy look
As if a flame was burning in her blood
And from a tree flew down and proudly took
A loaf of bread half covered with black mud.

A man, who was not very far away
Said to himself, while watching that free show:
– It's better to be eagle for one day
Than for a lifetime to remain a crow.