𝒩𝑜𝓃 𝓈𝑜𝓃𝑜 𝒾𝓃 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝒹𝑜, 𝒾𝓃𝒹𝒾𝓅𝑒𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉𝑒 𝒹𝒶𝓁𝓁' 𝑒𝓈𝓅𝑒𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝓏𝒶, 𝒹𝒾 𝒹𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒹𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝑜 𝓅𝑒𝓃𝓈𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒸𝒽𝑒 𝓉𝓊𝓉𝓉𝑜 𝒶𝒷𝒷𝒾𝒶 𝓊𝓃 𝓈𝑒𝓃𝓈𝑜, 𝓂𝑜𝓁𝓉𝑒 𝓋𝑜𝓁𝓉𝑒 𝓃𝑜𝓃 𝑒𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉𝑒 𝑒 𝓈𝑒 𝒸𝑒 𝓁'𝒽𝒶, 𝑒̀ 𝓅𝑜𝓈𝓈𝒾𝒷𝒾𝓁𝑒 𝒸𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒾𝒶 𝒹𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓉𝒶𝓏𝒾𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒹𝒶 𝒶𝓁𝓉𝓇𝒾 𝒾𝓃𝒹𝒾𝓋𝒾𝒹𝓊𝒾.
ℒ'𝒶𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓁 𝓈𝑒𝓃𝓈𝑜 𝒾𝓃𝓋𝑒𝒸𝑒, 𝒾𝓂𝓅𝓁𝒾𝒸𝒶 𝓊𝓃𝒶 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓈𝒸𝑒𝓃𝓏𝒶 𝒹𝒾𝓇𝑒𝓉𝓉𝒶 𝒹𝒾 𝒸𝒾𝑜̀ 𝒸𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝑜 𝒻𝒶𝒸𝑒𝓃𝒹𝑜 𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝑜 𝒶𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑜.
𝒩𝑜𝓃 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝒾𝒹𝑒𝓇𝑜 𝑔𝒾𝓊𝓈𝓉𝒾𝒻𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓇𝓂𝒾 𝒹𝒾𝑒𝓉𝓇𝑜 𝓊𝓃 𝓈𝑒𝓃𝓈𝑜, 𝓅𝑒𝓇 𝓂𝑜𝓉𝒾𝓋𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓊𝓃 𝒶𝒸𝒸𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉𝑜©

𝒬𝓊𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑜 𝓈𝑜𝓃𝑜 𝒾𝓃 𝓊𝓃𝒶 𝒹𝑒𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓂𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓉𝒶 𝓈𝒾𝓉𝓊𝒶𝓏𝒾𝑜𝓃𝑒, 𝒶 𝓋𝑜𝓁𝓉𝑒 𝓂𝒾 𝓇𝑒𝓃𝒹𝑜 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝒸𝒽𝑒 𝑒̀ 𝓈𝒾𝓂𝒾𝓁𝑒 𝒶 𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒶 𝒸𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝓃𝑜 𝓋𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓃𝒹𝑜 𝒶𝓁𝓉𝓇𝑒 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒶𝒸𝒸𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝒶 𝓂𝑒.
ℐ𝓁 𝓅𝒾𝓊̀ 𝒹𝑒𝓁𝓁𝑒 𝓋𝑜𝓁𝓉𝑒, 𝓈𝑒 𝒾 𝓁𝑒𝑔𝒶𝓂𝒾 𝓈𝑜𝓃𝑜 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓉𝒾, 𝓊𝓃𝑜 𝒻𝒶 𝒹𝒶 𝓈𝓊𝓅𝓅𝑜𝓇𝓉𝑜 𝒶𝓁𝓁'𝒶𝓁𝓉𝓇𝑜 𝓃𝑒𝓁𝓁𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒸𝒶𝓃𝓏𝑒 𝑜 𝓃𝑒𝑔𝓁𝒾 𝑒𝒸𝒸𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾.
ℒ'𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓏𝒾𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝑜 𝓁'𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝑒̀ 𝒶𝓃𝒸𝒽𝑒 𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉𝑜.©

𝒪𝑔𝓃𝒾 𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒 𝒸𝒽𝑒 𝓋𝒾𝓋𝑜 𝓃𝑒𝒸𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓉𝒶 𝒹𝑒𝓁 𝓈𝓊𝑜 𝓉𝑒𝓂𝓅𝑜, 𝓉𝓊𝓉𝓉𝑜 𝑒̀ 𝒸𝑜𝓁𝓁𝑒𝑔𝒶𝓉𝑜 𝒶𝓁𝓁𝒶 𝓅𝓊𝓇𝒶 𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑒𝓃𝓏𝒶 𝒹𝑒𝓁𝓁' 𝒶𝓉𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑜. 𝒞𝑜𝓃𝒸𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓃𝒶𝓉𝑜 𝒾𝓃 𝓊𝓃𝒶 𝓈𝑒𝓇𝒾𝑒 𝒹'𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾 𝒸𝒽𝑒 𝓃𝑒 𝓈𝒸𝒶𝓃𝒹𝒾𝓈𝒸𝑜𝓃𝑜 𝓁𝑒 𝑜𝓇𝑒.
ℱ𝑜𝓇𝓈𝑒 𝒾𝓁 𝓉𝑒𝓂𝓅𝑜 𝒹𝑒𝑔𝓁𝒾 𝓈𝑔𝓊𝒶𝓇𝒹𝒾 𝒽𝒶 𝒾𝓃𝒾𝓏𝒾𝑜.©

𝒜𝓁𝓁𝒶 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝑒 𝒽𝑜 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓈𝑜 𝒸𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝒶 𝒻𝒾𝒶𝓂𝓂𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒶 𝒹𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒶 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝓉𝒶𝓈𝒾𝒶 𝑒̀ 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓃𝑜 𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓇𝑜 𝒹𝒾 𝓂𝑒, 𝒷𝒶𝓈𝓉𝒶 𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓁𝒶.©

ℋ𝑜 𝓃𝑒𝒸𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓉𝒶̀ 𝒹𝒾 𝒸𝑜𝓁𝑜𝓇𝒾, 𝓅𝑒𝓇 𝒸𝒶𝓅𝒾𝓇𝓂𝒾. 𝒟𝑒𝓋𝑜 𝓈𝒶𝓅𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓈𝒶 𝒸'𝑒̀ 𝒶𝓁 𝒹𝒾 𝓁𝒶̀ 𝒹𝑒𝓁 𝓂𝒾𝑜 𝓈𝑔𝓊𝒶𝓇𝒹𝑜, 𝓋𝒾𝑒 𝓃𝓊𝑜𝓋𝑒, 𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒹𝑒 𝓃𝒶𝓈𝒸𝑜𝓈𝓉𝑒, 𝓋𝑜𝓁𝓉𝒾 𝓈𝑜𝓇𝓇𝒾𝒹𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾, 𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓇𝒾 𝒾𝓂𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓋𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒾, 𝓃𝑜𝓃 𝒸𝑒𝓇𝒸𝒶𝓉𝒾 𝑜 𝓈𝑜𝓁𝑜 𝒾𝓂𝓂𝒶𝑔𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓉𝒾.©

𝒟𝑒𝓋𝑜 𝒶𝓂𝓂𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝑜: 𝓆𝓊𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑜 𝓈𝑜𝓃𝑜 𝒶𝒻𝒻𝒶𝓈𝒸𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓉𝑜 𝒹𝒶 𝓊𝓃𝒶 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓉𝑒 𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓏𝒾𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒽𝑜 𝓂𝑜𝓁𝓉𝑒 𝒹𝒾𝒻𝒻𝒾𝒸𝑜𝓁𝓉𝒶̀ 𝒶 𝓈𝑒𝑔𝓊𝒾𝓇𝑒 𝓁𝒶 𝓇𝒶𝑔𝒾𝑜𝓃𝑒.©

ℐ𝓁 𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓂𝑜 𝓅𝑒𝓃𝓈𝒾𝑒𝓇𝑜 𝒹𝑒𝓁 𝓂𝒶𝓉𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑜 𝒶𝓅𝓅𝑒𝓃𝒶 𝓈𝓋𝑒𝑔𝓁𝒾𝑜 𝑒' 𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓁𝓁𝑜 𝒹𝒾 𝑔𝓊𝒶𝓇𝒹𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓁 𝓂𝒶𝓇𝑒. 𝒰𝓃 𝓅𝑜' 𝓅𝑒𝓇 𝓋𝑒𝒹𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓁 𝓉𝑒𝓂𝓅𝑜, 𝓊𝓃 𝓅𝑜' 𝓅𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝒸𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓁 𝓂𝒾𝑜 𝒶𝓂𝒾𝒸𝑜 𝓅𝑒𝓈𝒸𝒶𝓉𝑜𝓇𝑒. 𝒯𝓊𝓉𝓉𝒾 𝒾 𝑔𝒾𝑜𝓇𝓃𝒾 𝒹𝑒𝓁𝓁'𝒶𝓃𝓃𝑜 𝒶 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝑒 𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒾 𝒸𝑜𝓃 𝒾𝓁 𝓂𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝑔𝓇𝑜𝓈𝓈𝑜, ℰ𝒻𝒾𝓈 (ℰ𝒻𝒾𝓈𝒾𝑜) 𝑒̀ 𝑔𝒾𝒶̀ 𝓉𝓇𝒶 𝓁𝑒 𝑜𝓃𝒹𝑒 𝒹𝒶 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝑒𝒸𝒸𝒽𝒾𝑜 𝓆𝓊𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑜 𝒶𝓅𝓇𝑜 𝓁𝒶 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶, 𝓁𝒶 𝓈𝓊𝒶 𝒷𝒶𝓇𝒸𝒶, 𝓊𝓃 𝓅𝒾𝒸𝒸𝑜𝓁𝑜 𝓅𝑒𝓈𝒸𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒𝒸𝒸𝒾𝑜 𝑒̀ 𝒻𝑒𝓇𝓂𝑜 𝒶 𝓃𝑜𝓃 𝓅𝒾𝓊̀ 𝒹𝒾 𝟹𝟶𝟶 𝓂𝑒𝓉𝓇𝒾 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒 𝒸𝒶𝓈𝒶 𝓂𝒾𝒶. 
𝒜𝓁𝓁𝑒 𝟿 𝒹𝑒𝓁 𝓂𝒶𝓉𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑜 𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓇𝒶, 𝓈𝒾 𝒹𝒾𝓇𝒾𝑔𝑒 𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜 𝒾𝓁 𝓅𝑜𝓇𝓉𝒾𝒸𝒸𝒾𝑜𝓁𝑜, 𝒻𝒶 𝓊𝓃' 𝒶𝒷𝒾𝓁𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓋𝓇𝒶 𝑒 𝒶𝓉𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒸𝒸𝒶 𝒶𝓁 𝓈𝓊𝑜 𝓅𝑜𝓈𝓉𝑜, 𝓉𝒾𝓇𝒶 𝓁𝒶 𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓅𝓅𝒶 𝒹𝒾 𝓅𝓇𝓊𝒶 𝑒 𝒻𝒾𝓈𝓈𝒶 𝓁' 𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑜𝓇𝒶𝑔𝑔𝒾𝑜 𝒶 𝓅𝑜𝓅𝓅𝒶.
𝒫𝓊𝓁𝒾𝓈𝒸𝑒 𝒾𝓁 𝓅𝑜𝒸𝑜 𝓅𝑒𝓈𝒸𝒶𝓉𝑜 𝒸𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝒶 𝓇𝒶𝒸𝒸𝑜𝓁𝓉𝑜 𝓃𝑒𝓁 𝓈𝓊𝑜 𝑜𝓇𝓉𝑜.
ℰ 𝓈𝒾, 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝒸𝒽𝑒́ 𝓁𝓊𝒾 𝒾𝓁 𝓅𝑒𝓈𝒸𝑒 𝓃𝑜𝓃 𝓁𝑜 𝒸𝒶𝓉𝓉𝓊𝓇𝒶, 𝓁𝑜 𝓇𝒶𝒸𝒸𝑜𝑔𝓁𝒾𝑒.
ℐ𝓃 𝑒𝒻𝒻𝑒𝓉𝓉𝒾 ℰ𝒻𝒾𝓈 𝒹𝒶 𝓆𝓊𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑜 𝓁𝑜 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓈𝒸𝑜 𝑒𝓈𝒸𝑒 𝒹𝒾 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝓉𝑒 𝓅𝑒𝓇 𝓅𝑒𝓈𝒸𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝑒 𝓈𝒾 𝒹𝒾𝓇𝒾𝑔𝑒 𝓈𝑒𝓂𝓅𝓇𝑒 𝓃𝑒𝓁𝓁𝑜 𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑜 𝒾𝒹𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝒸𝑜 𝓅𝑜𝓈𝓉𝑜. ℐ𝑜 𝒾𝓂𝓂𝒶𝑔𝒾𝓃𝑜 𝒸𝒽𝑒  𝒶𝒷𝒷𝒾𝒶 𝓊𝓃 𝑜𝓇𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒𝓃 𝒹𝑒𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑒𝒶𝓉𝑜 𝒹𝒶 𝓅𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓉𝓉𝒾, 𝓇𝑒𝒸𝒾𝓃𝓉𝒾 𝑒 𝒸𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓁𝓁𝑜. 𝒜𝓇𝓇𝒾𝓋𝒶, 𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑒 𝓆𝓊𝒶𝓉𝓉𝓇𝑜 𝒹𝑒𝓁 𝓂𝒶𝓉𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑜, 𝒶𝓅𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓁 𝒸𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓁𝓁𝑜, 𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓇𝒶, 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝒶 𝓅𝒶𝓁𝒶𝓂𝒾𝓉𝒾 𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝓉𝒾, 𝒶𝓈𝓅𝑒𝓉𝓉𝒶 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝑜 𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑒 𝟾, 𝓇𝒶𝒸𝒸𝑜𝑔𝓁𝒾𝑒 𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓁𝓁𝑜 𝒸𝒽𝑒 𝒾𝓁 𝓂𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝑔𝓁𝒾 𝑜𝒻𝒻𝓇𝑒, 𝓅𝑜𝒾 𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓊𝒹𝑒 𝒾 𝒸𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒾 𝑒 𝓇𝒾𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓃𝒶 𝒶 𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓇𝒶.
ℳ𝒶𝒾 𝒸𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝒶 𝓈𝓊𝒶 𝒷𝒶𝓇𝒸𝒶 𝓈𝒾 𝒾𝓃𝒻𝒾𝓁𝒾 𝓃𝑒𝓁𝓁'𝑜𝓇𝓉𝑜 𝒹𝑒𝓁 𝓋𝒾𝒸𝒾𝓃𝑜! ℳ𝒶𝒾 ! 𝒮𝑒𝓂𝓅𝓇𝑒 𝓃𝑒𝓁𝓁𝑜 𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑜 𝓅𝑜𝓈𝓉𝑜, 𝒹𝒶 𝒶𝓃𝓃𝒾.
ℐ𝑜 𝒸𝒾 𝓈𝒸𝒽𝑒𝓇𝓏𝑜, 𝓂𝒶 𝒽𝑜 𝓂𝑜𝓁𝓉𝑜 𝓇𝒾𝓈𝓅𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑜 𝓅𝑒𝓇 𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉𝑜 𝓊𝑜𝓂𝑜 𝒸𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝒶 𝓊𝓃𝒶 𝓋𝒾𝓉𝒶 𝒹𝓊𝓇𝒶, 𝒻𝒶𝓉𝓉𝒶 𝒹𝒾 𝓊𝓂𝒾𝒹𝒾𝓉𝒶̀, 𝒹𝒾 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝒹𝒹𝑜 𝑒 𝒹𝒾 𝓅𝑜𝒸𝑜 𝑔𝓊𝒶𝒹𝒶𝑔𝓃𝑜. ℰ𝒻𝒾𝓈 𝓇𝒾𝓅𝒶𝓇𝒶 𝓅𝑜𝒸𝑜 𝓁𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝓉𝒾, 𝑒 𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉𝑜 𝒻𝒶 𝒷𝑒𝓃𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝓁𝒶 𝓅𝑒𝓈𝒸𝒶 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝒸𝒽𝑒́ 𝒾 𝓅𝑒𝓈𝒸𝒾 𝓅𝒾𝓊̀ 𝓅𝒾𝒸𝒸𝑜𝓁𝒾 𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈𝒸𝑜𝓃𝑜 𝓈𝑒𝓂𝓅𝓇𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝓊𝓃𝓆𝓊𝑒 𝒶 𝒻𝓊𝑔𝑔𝒾𝓇𝑒 𝓂𝒶 𝓇𝒾𝓂𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑜𝓃𝑜 𝓈𝑒𝓂𝓅𝓇𝑒 𝓃𝑒𝒾 𝒹𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓃𝒾 𝒹𝑒𝓁𝓁'𝑜𝓇𝓉𝑜. 𝒞𝓇𝑒𝒹𝑜 𝒸𝒽𝑒 𝑜𝓇𝓂𝒶𝒾 𝓉𝓇𝒶 𝒾 𝓅𝑒𝓈𝒸𝒾 𝑒 𝓁𝓊𝒾 𝓈𝒾 𝓈𝒾𝒶 𝒾𝓃𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓊𝓇𝒶𝓉𝑜 𝓊𝓃 𝓇𝒶𝓅𝓅𝑜𝓇𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒𝓃 𝒹𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜 𝒹𝒶 𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓁𝓁𝑜 𝒸𝒽𝑒 𝑒̀ 𝓁𝒶 𝓅𝑒𝓈𝒸𝒶 𝓈𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓊𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒶 𝑒 𝒹𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓇𝓊𝓉𝓉𝒾𝓋𝒶 𝒸𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒾 𝒻𝒶 𝑜𝑔𝑔𝒾 𝓃𝑒𝓁 𝓂𝑜𝓃𝒹𝑜. 𝒜 𝓋𝑜𝓁𝓉𝑒 𝓂𝒾 𝒻𝑒𝓇𝓂𝑜 𝒶 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓁𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓃 𝓁𝓊𝒾, 𝑔𝓁𝒾 𝒸𝒽𝒾𝑒𝒹𝑜 𝒹𝑒𝓁 𝓉𝑒𝓂𝓅𝑜 𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝓁 𝓂𝒶𝓇𝑒, 𝒶 𝓋𝑜𝓁𝓉𝑒 𝓂𝒾 𝑜𝒻𝒻𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓁 𝓅𝑜𝒸𝑜 𝓅𝑒𝓈𝒸𝒶𝓉𝑜 𝑒 𝓁𝑜 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝓅𝓇𝑜 𝑜 𝑔𝓁𝒾𝑒𝓁𝑜 𝒻𝒶𝒸𝒸𝒾𝑜 𝓋𝑒𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝓁 𝓇𝒾𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒 𝒹𝒾 𝓊𝓃 𝒶𝓂𝒾𝒸𝑜. 𝒫𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃𝒶 𝓊𝓂𝒾𝓁𝑒, 𝓂𝒶 𝒸𝑜𝓃 𝓊𝓃𝒶 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑒 𝒹𝒾𝑔𝓃𝒾𝓉𝒶̀, 𝓁𝒶 𝒹𝒾𝑔𝓃𝒾𝓉𝒶̀ 𝒹𝒾 𝒸𝒽𝒾 𝓋𝒶 𝓅𝑒𝓇 𝓂𝒶𝓇𝑒, 𝑒 𝓁𝑜 𝓇𝒾𝓈𝓅𝑒𝓉𝓉𝒶. "ℋ𝑒𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓌𝒶𝓎" 𝑒' 𝒾𝓁 𝓃𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒶 𝓈𝓊𝒶 𝒷𝒶𝓇𝒸𝒶. ℳ𝒾 𝒸𝒽𝒾𝑒𝒹𝑜 𝓈𝑒  𝒽𝒶 𝓁𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑜 "ℐ𝓁 𝓋𝑒𝒸𝒸𝒽𝒾𝑜 𝑒 𝒾𝓁 𝓂𝒶𝓇𝑒", 𝑜𝓅𝓅𝓊𝓇𝑒 𝑒' 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓉𝑜 𝒶 𝒞𝓊𝒷𝒶 𝑜 𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓈𝓈𝒶̀ 𝓅𝑒𝓇 𝓆𝓊𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓃𝑜 𝓂𝑜𝓉𝒾𝓋𝑜 𝒽𝒶 𝒸𝒽𝒾𝒶𝓂𝒶𝓉𝑜 𝒸𝑜𝓈𝒾 𝓁𝒶 𝓈𝓊𝒶 𝒷𝒶𝓇𝒸𝒶.©

ℳ𝒾 𝓈𝑜𝓃𝑜 𝓇𝑒𝓈𝑜 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝒸𝒽𝑒 𝒶 𝓋𝑜𝓁𝓉𝑒 𝓁𝑒 𝒻𝒾𝒶𝒷𝑒 𝓇𝒶𝒸𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒶𝓃𝑜 𝓁𝒶 𝓋𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓉𝒶̀: 𝒸𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝑜𝓈𝓈𝑜 𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓇𝒶𝓇𝓂𝒾 𝒶𝓃𝒸𝒽𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝓊𝓃 𝓈𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓃𝒹𝑜 𝓈𝑒𝓃𝓏𝒶 𝒶𝒸𝒸𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑒𝓇𝓂𝑒𝓃𝑒.
𝒬𝓊𝒾𝓃𝒹𝒾 𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑜 𝓋𝑜𝓇𝓇𝑒𝒾 𝓊𝓃𝒶 𝒻𝒶𝓋𝑜𝓁𝒶 𝓉𝓊𝓉𝓉𝒶 𝓂𝒾𝒶 : 𝒸𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒾 𝒶𝒷𝒷𝓇𝒶𝒸𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓈𝓈𝑒 𝑒 𝓂𝒾 𝒹𝒾𝒸𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒾 𝒾𝑜 𝒸𝒾 𝓈𝒶𝓇𝑜̀!©

ℋ𝑜 𝓁𝒶 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝒸𝑒𝓏𝒾𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒸𝒽𝑒 𝒸’𝑒̀ 𝓈𝑒𝓂𝓅𝓇𝑒 𝓊𝓃 𝓂𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒸𝒽𝑒 𝓂' 𝒾𝓃𝓋𝒾𝓉𝒶 𝒶 𝓈𝑜𝓁𝒸𝒶𝓇𝓁𝑜.
𝒫𝑒𝓇 𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉𝑜 𝓋𝒶𝒹𝑜 𝒾𝓃 𝒷𝒶𝓇𝒸𝒶 𝒶 𝓋𝑒𝓁𝒶 𝒸𝒽𝑒, 𝒸𝑜𝓃 𝑔𝓁𝒾 𝒶𝓃𝓃𝒾, 𝑒̀ 𝒹𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓊𝓉𝒶 𝓃𝑜𝓃 𝓈𝑜𝓁𝑜 𝓊𝓃𝒶 𝓅𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝑜 𝓊𝓃'𝑒𝓈𝒾𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓏𝒶, 𝓂𝒶 𝓈𝑜𝓅𝓇𝒶𝓉𝓉𝓊𝓉𝓉𝑜 𝓊𝓃𝒶 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝑒 𝒾𝓂𝓅𝑜𝓇𝓉𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒶 𝓂𝒾𝒶 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓈𝒶𝓅𝑒𝓋𝑜𝓁𝑒𝓏𝓏𝒶.
𝒞𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒾𝒶𝓃𝑜 𝓇𝑒𝑔𝒶𝓉𝑒, 𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓈𝒻𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾 𝑜 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝒸𝒾𝑒𝓇𝑒, 𝓅𝑜𝒸𝑜 𝒾𝓂𝓅𝑜𝓇𝓉𝒶, 𝓂𝒾 𝓅𝒾𝒶𝒸𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝒶𝓇𝑒, 𝓃𝒶𝓋𝒾𝑔𝒶𝓇𝑒, 𝓇𝒶𝑔𝑔𝒾𝓊𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓁𝓊𝑜𝑔𝒽𝒾 𝒸𝒽𝑒 𝓃𝑜𝓃 𝒽𝑜 𝓂𝒶𝒾 𝓋𝒾𝓈𝓉𝑜 𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓈𝒸𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝑒 𝒸𝓊𝓁𝓉𝓊𝓇𝑒 𝒹𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑒 𝒹𝒶𝓁𝓁𝒶 𝓂𝒾𝒶.
ℰ 𝓈𝑒 𝓅𝑜𝓈𝓈𝑜 𝓋𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉𝑒 𝑒𝓈𝓅𝑒𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝓏𝑒 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝒸𝑜𝓇𝓇𝑒𝓃𝒹𝑜 𝒹𝑒𝓁𝓁𝑒 𝓂𝒾𝑔𝓁𝒾𝒶 𝓅𝑒𝓇 𝓂𝒶𝓇𝑒, 𝒾𝓃𝓋𝑒𝒸𝑒 𝒸𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝑒𝓇 𝒸𝒾𝑒𝓁𝑜 𝑜 𝓅𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓇𝒶, 𝓈𝑒𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝒸𝒽𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒸𝒽𝑒 𝒾𝓁 𝓋𝑒𝓁𝑒𝑔𝑔𝒾𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝑒̀ 𝓊𝓃𝒶 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝑒 𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑒𝓃𝓏𝒾𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒶 𝓂𝒾𝒶 𝑒𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓏𝒶.©

𝒮𝒶𝒷𝒶𝓉𝑜 23 𝒶𝑔𝑜𝓈𝓉𝑜
𝒟𝒶𝓁 𝒹𝒾𝒶𝓇𝒾𝑜 𝒹𝒾 𝒷𝑜𝓇𝒹𝑜 

ℐ𝓁 𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝑜𝒻𝒻𝒾𝒶 𝓁𝑒𝑔𝑔𝑒𝓇𝑜 𝒶𝓃𝒸𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝑒 𝑒̀ 𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓋𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒶 𝓊𝓃' 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓈𝒾𝒻𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓏𝒾𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒹𝒶 𝒮ℰ, 𝒾𝓈𝓈𝑜 𝓉𝓊𝓉𝓉𝑒 𝓁𝑒 𝓋𝑒𝓁𝑒. 𝒮𝑜𝓃𝑜 𝓁𝑒 𝑜𝓇𝑒 06.00 𝒹𝒾 𝓋𝑒𝓃𝑒𝓇𝒹𝒾̀ 22 𝒶𝑔𝑜𝓈𝓉𝑜, 𝒻𝒶𝒸𝒸𝒾𝑜 𝓇𝑜𝓉𝓉𝒶 𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜 𝒾𝓁 𝑔𝑜𝓁𝒻𝑜 𝒹𝑒𝑔𝓁𝒾 𝒜𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓁𝒾, 𝒮𝒶𝓇𝒹𝑒𝑔𝓃𝒶. 𝒱𝑒𝓁𝑒𝑔𝑔𝒾𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑜 𝒶𝓁𝓁𝒶 𝓂𝑒𝒹𝒾𝒶 𝒹𝒾 𝟾/𝟷𝟶 𝓃𝑜𝒹𝒾 𝓅𝑒𝓇 𝟸𝟷𝟿 𝓂𝒾𝑔𝓁𝒾𝒶 𝓃𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒾𝒸𝒽𝑒 𝒾𝓁
𝓉𝑒𝓂𝓅𝑜 𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓂𝒶𝓉𝑜 𝒶𝓁𝓁𝒶 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓏𝒾𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝑒̀ 25 𝒽 𝒸𝒾𝓇𝒸𝒶.

ℐ𝓁 𝒷𝑜𝓁𝓁𝑒𝓉𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑜 𝒹𝒶̀ 𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓋𝒾𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒾 𝒹𝒾 𝒷𝓊𝓇𝓇𝒶𝓈𝒸𝒶 𝒹𝒶 𝒩𝒲, 𝒾𝓁 𝒸𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒾 𝓅𝑒𝓃𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓏𝓏𝑒𝓇𝑒𝒷𝒷𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓁𝓉𝒾𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓂𝑜. 𝒞𝒽𝒾𝒶𝓂𝑜 𝓁𝒶 𝑔𝓊𝒶𝓇𝒹𝒾𝒶 𝒸𝑜𝓈𝓉𝒾𝑒𝓇𝒶 𝓅𝑒𝓇 𝒸𝒽𝒾𝑒𝒹𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝒸𝓊𝓃𝒾 𝒹𝑒𝓉𝓉𝒶𝑔𝓁𝒾 𝑒 𝓂𝒾 𝒹𝒾𝒸𝑜𝓃𝑜 𝒸𝒽𝑒 𝑒̀ 𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓋𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒶 𝓅𝑒𝓇 𝓁𝒶 𝓉𝒶𝓇𝒹𝒶 𝓂𝒶𝓉𝓉𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓉𝒶 𝒹𝒾 𝑜𝑔𝑔𝒾.

𝒟𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒹𝑜 𝒹𝒾 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝒸𝑒𝒹𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒶 𝓉𝓊𝓉𝓉𝒶 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓏𝒶 𝓅𝑒𝓇 𝒞𝒶𝓁𝒶 𝒞𝒾𝓅𝑜𝓁𝓁𝒶 𝒹𝒾 𝒞𝒽𝒾𝒶, 𝒷𝑒𝓃 𝓇𝒾𝒹𝑜𝓈𝓈𝒶𝓉𝒶 𝒹𝒶𝒾 𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾 𝑜𝒸𝒸𝒾𝒹𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒶𝓁𝒾 𝑒 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓂𝒶 𝒶 𝒞𝒶𝑔𝓁𝒾𝒶𝓇𝒾. 𝒜𝓁𝓁𝑒 𝟸𝟹,𝟶𝟶 𝓈𝑜𝓃𝑜 𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑜𝓇𝒶𝓉𝑜 𝓃𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒶 𝒞𝒶𝓁𝒶 𝒸𝒽𝑒 𝑒̀, 𝒻𝓇𝒶 𝓁'𝒶𝓁𝓉𝓇𝑜, 𝓊𝓃 𝒷𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓂𝑜 𝓅𝑜𝓈𝓉𝑜. ℐ𝓁 𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓉𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒹𝒶 𝓃𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓃𝓊𝒶, 𝓂𝒶 𝑒̀ 𝒾𝓃 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝑜. 𝒩𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒶 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝓉𝑒 𝒸𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑒𝓇𝒶̀ 𝒹𝑒𝓁 𝓉𝓊𝓉𝓉𝑜. ℛ𝑒𝑔𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝒹𝒾 𝒷𝓇𝑒𝓏𝓏𝒶. 𝒟𝒶 𝒩𝒲, 𝓇𝓊𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓇𝒶̀ 𝒶 𝒮ℰ. 𝒫𝓇𝑜𝑔𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑜 𝒹𝒾 𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒶 𝒞𝒶𝑔𝓁𝒾𝒶𝓇𝒾 𝒶𝓁 𝓂𝒶𝓉𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑜. ℛ𝒾𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓃𝒹𝑜 𝓁𝒶 𝓃𝒶𝓋𝒾𝑔𝒶𝓏𝒾𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑒 𝟶𝟼,𝟶𝟶.

𝒟𝑜𝓅𝑜 𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒸𝑜𝓁𝓁𝑜𝒸𝒶𝓉𝑜 𝒾 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓇𝒹𝒾 𝒶 𝒹𝓇𝒾𝓉𝓉𝒶, 𝑜𝓇𝓂𝑒𝑔𝑔𝒾𝑜 𝒶𝓁𝓁' 𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓁𝑒𝓈𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝓁𝓁𝒶 𝒷𝒶𝓃𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓃𝒶 𝒹𝒾 ℳ𝒶𝓇𝒾𝓃𝒶 𝒫𝒾𝒸𝒸𝑜𝓁𝒶 𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑒 𝟶𝟽,𝟺𝟽 𝒹𝒾 𝓈𝒶𝒷𝒶𝓉𝑜 𝟸𝟹 𝒶𝑔𝑜𝓈𝓉𝑜.
ℒ𝒶 𝓃𝒶𝓋𝒾𝑔𝒶𝓏𝒾𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝑒̀ 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝒸𝓁𝓊𝓈𝒶.©