Reniego del amigo que cubre con las alas y muerde con el pico.
According to this saying friends are birds. Birds that cover us with their wings, distracting us with comfortable shadows, while they hurt us with their sharp beaks. The saying urges us to disown those friends, but we are partial to birds, and so is this child.
If he were to disown someone, it would be the light. That deceptively benevolent light, with a larger wingspan than the one of any bird, and more than a thousand sharp little teeth. The child would choose to be taken advantage by a bird, whose wings at least would feel like an embrace. A bird whose attention the child would be able to hoard all for himself. If he could, he would disown the light, the crowd. All the platitudes, all the praises, and all those hurtful bites, that don’t even feel like something personal. And make him feel invisible, just another faceless child in the crowd.
A few pecks are nothing compared to keeping that bird from flying while you use its wings to give yourself shade.
The trick is to know what to compare yourself to. My arms will never be the wings of a bird, I will never fly. But I can cover my nose with a fake beak, that allows me to peck. If I want, I can say that I am a bird.
You had the wings with which to give me shade, but you didn’t teach me to take care of others, to treat them well. I didn’t inherit wings from you, you only left me a beak. You taught me to hurt and take advantage of others.
The worst part of sheltering someone under your wings isn’t that you cannot fly. It’s that someday they will rip your wings. That they will keep those wings for themselves and they will throw away every other part of you, because you will no longer be of use to them.
The shade of my wing is there to protect you from the world. And my beak is there to remind you that the world exists. To remind you, from time to time, of how much pain the world causes. And dissuade you from stepping out of my wing’s shade.
The shade of my wing is there to protect you, to prevent the world from robbing you of your ability to fly. My beak is there to push you, out of that comfortable safety, and make you fly. My beak is there to make sure that you use that which I have protected.
Fool. You sought shelter under my wing believing that it was a good thing. You look at my beak with mistrust, out of the corner of your eye, believing that it is a bad thing. Once the cold arrives, you will understand that those wings turn you into a coward, that they only urge you to flee. Whereas this beak could have taught you to stay and confront the cold.
The sun has set. If you want, you can step out of my wing’s shade. If you believe that it is safe, go ahead. I still remember the sun. My beak is still as sharp as the sun’s rays. If you believe that the sun won’t rise tomorrow, that my beak won’t have anything to do with it, go ahead. Step into the world.
The best part of working together, with the same purpose in mind, is that it is easier to hide our teeth. Light is good. It makes plants grow and it keeps you warm. We are good. And there is nothing more to see.