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there? I am also very comfortable here! Warm, wet.”
In such a manner the free snake answered the bird, laughing inwardly at the hawk’s nonsense.
Then he thought: “To fly, or creep—the end is the same: we all shall die, we all shall turn again to dust.”
But the bold hawk shook himself suddenly, hovered around, and looked sad.
In the dark ravine upon the grey stones, water was running, and its freshness took away the odour of putrefaction.
The hawk, having gathered its strength again, cried out with pain, and yearning:
“Oh, if I could still once more rise aloft, towards the sky! To conquer the tyrant-enemy in the fight. He should press the wounds of my breast, until he should swallow some of my heart’s blood! Oh, the happiness of the struggle! Fierce war, for the sake of liberty!”
