This is a specimen of Indian satire. The coward is boastful when there is no danger: pretension succeeds in the absence of real merit! A Kite was boasting how high he could fly, and ventured to speak disparagingly of the eagle, not knowing that the latter overheard him. He began to sing in a loud voice,
I upward fly
I! I alone disdain the air
Till I hang as by a hair
Poised in the sky.
The Eagle answers disdainfully, looking down from a branch far above the Kite,
Who mounts the sky?
Who is this, with babbling tongue
As he had on the storm-cloud hung,