“Possibly,” replied the kite; “but what canst thou see across the desert?”
Gazing down, the vulture exclaimed: “Yonder do I see a grain of wheat.”
Thereupon, they flew to the ground. When the vulture settled upon the wheat he became caught in a trap. He had not known that, through his eating the grain, Fate would ensnare him by the neck.
Not every oyster contains a pearl; not every archer hits the target.
“Of what use,” the kite inquired, “was it to see the grain when thou couldst not discern the trap of thine enemy?”
“Caution,” said the captive vulture, “availeth not with Destiny.”
When the decrees of past eternity are brought to action, the keenest eyes are rendered blind by Fate.
In the ocean, where no shore-line appears, the swimmer strives in vain.