The Kite Who Envied the Falcon
Long ago, on the heights of a broad valley where cool waters ran, there lived a little kite. This kite took great delight in gliding through the deep blue of the sky, and would almost dance with the wind. Yet in his heart there lay hidden a deep envy of a majestic falcon that perched on the highest rock of the valley. Whenever he heard that strong and ringing cry of the falcon that made hearts tremble, he felt shame at his own thin voice. At last he set aside the beauties his own nature offered him and decided to cry out just like a falcon. One morning, when the sun had only just risen, he settled on the steepest cleft of the valley and drew a deep breath.
Straining his throat as hard as he could, he set about imitating that mighty and fierce voice of the falcon. An experienced crow that was passing by stopped when it saw this vain effort of his and blinked its eyes in astonishment. With a kindly air the crow asked, "Why do you leave your own song and covet the voice of another, my friend?" The ambitious kite lifted his head high and answered, "I simply do not want to remain an ordinary kite." The little kite, who paid no heed to the crow's friendly warnings, shrieked for weeks on end as if tearing his throat. As the days passed his voice grew thin and hoarse, and his breath choked more and more with every attempt.
Even so he did not give up, and, thinking himself a falcon, he persisted in trying to catch that foreign tone. At last one evening, when his own flock appeared in the sky, he wished to call to them joyfully. But when he opened his beak, neither the ringing cry of the falcon came out nor his own old and true melody. Because his voice was ruined by too much straining, only a pitiful growl came from his throat. While trying to be someone else, he had utterly lost that lovely voice of his own that nature had granted him. As his flock drew away without understanding what he said, the kite was left all alone and helpless upon the rock. Whoever forgets his own essence and tries to resemble another is deprived even of what he holds. Every bird must sing its own song.