Knights of Tezoth

-- Keep my humble sketches, sometimes chaotic and confusing, but they are honest. I dare to hope that, although I have not yet seen all of Tezoth with my own eyes, in this composition I have still managed to faithfully convey my views and thoughts, -- with these words Ambrose presents Yin the fruits of his literary endeavors.

Revnland

The dense forests of these lands
Are inhabited by a people equally dark
Who, strangers to speech and action, heed
That darkness which whispers from the depths of the soul
Respect for cultural heritage
Cannot fail to attract respect in return
The skills of Revnland's fierce warriors
I will also deign to praise, but little
Meaning is there in that strength which serves evil
Those people deserved their mistress
If they were not so indifferent to life
They could have overthrown her long ago. But words
Cannot be taken from the song; if "M"
Then "S" will inevitably stand beside it

Vices usually appear to us
As an ugly reflection of good
Cruelty is close to righteous anger
From lust to true love
A fine line sometimes lies.
But blatant vulgarity is far
From any virtue; Lord Karneus
Can in no way evoke sympathy
Nor respect either; and as for fear:
Threats are only laughable when spewed
By an eternally drunk, empty-mouthed fool
And her knights, in appearance and manner,
Resemble a cross between a bear and a bandit
(Though a bear is neater, and a bandit kinder)

Teneressa

Deep peace, like a sound sleep
But how sadly we waste time
When we sleep, while life seethes without us
And even awakening from oblivion
We look at the world as if through the eyes
Of those who have struggled all their lives. Perhaps, old age
Would not be bad to meet in Teneressa
Wandering through nighttime Viliris
Among shady alleys, reflecting
On days gone by, quietly fading away.

Beautiful is the autumn leaf, carried away by the wind
Perhaps its long fall
Will one day stir a poet
But a dead leaf does not nourish the tree, and little
Use has a sovereign from the soul of an aesthete
Who speaks beautifully, thinks soundly
But is not inclined to act decisively
A beautiful trinket, Teneressa
Is counted among the state's treasures
Though it adorns the building of the realm
A solid foundation, crenellated walls
Will always be more important than all embellishments

Maria-Teneressa Logg, oh, that name
Is pleasant and known to every noble
And deservedly considered an ornament of society
That noble lady, known for her courtesy.
But I am forced to condemn her excessive care
For her low-born subjects
A worthy poet spoke thus of the serfs
Here I provide a literal translation:

Peasants, who are evil and rude,

Against the nobility they brood,

Only as beggars are they good!

I love to see the folk

Starving, unclothed,

Suffering, un-warmed!

Let my sweetheart lie to me,

If I have lied in this!

A peasant has the nature of a swine,

He cannot live decently,

If he grows rich,

He will begin to rage.

So that villeins do not grow fat,

So that they endure deprivation,

Year after year it is necessary

To keep them forever in a black body.

He who cherishes his villeins,

Deprives them of nothing

And allows them to hold

Their heads high — that man is mad.

For a villein, if he grows strong,

If he establishes himself in prosperity,

In malice he will find no equal —

He seeks to destroy everything...

Faredjia

A worthy and good achievement
It was for Tezoth to seize this island
And press under its heel the despicable
Criminal inhabitants thereof. Now order
Reigns in yet another corner of the land
And the world has become brighter and cleaner

A stern ruler with a stone face
Inspires fear in the dark commoners
Seeking to deceive the laws of nature
It is dangerous for mortals to play at gods thus
One cannot but respect Genburry's courage
As long as those secrets are in his hands
We are at peace. But let the forbidden vessel
Containing them remain firmly sealed
Not every secret is worth revealing
May Stratos guard them, hidden from the light
And I note to myself — if he carries
The fruits of his labors to the grave
I will not regret it.

Albus

Behold a wondrous land! A country within a country
And within that country another twelve lands
For every taste and color, surely for the youth
There will always be a place to settle in life
Not everyone is destined to become a knight
But in the orders there is always a place
Here a brave man will always find
His calling and gain honor

Somewhat simple-minded perhaps
But sincere is Lord Secretgarden
He is worthy of great respect
Since he holds such diverse people in his command
Himself embodying the ideal of knighthood.

Florenzan

It is quite unbecoming for mighty lords
To hoard gold and count pennies
Engaging in the despicable affairs of merchants
Lord Gitgood tarnishes his honor, gold
Unmeasured is brought by various money-changers
Serfs should not gain power
Through the cunning schemes of traders
And multiply their miserly wealth.
Their souls are soft, like their beloved metal
But filled with malicious cunning instead
"Buy cheap and sell dear" —
What shall I call this, if not deceit
Not to mention sorcery, the weapon of cowards.
Here there are more treacherous plots than in Revnland
Fortunately, each is worth but two coppers.

Oshi

Not all matters can be reconciled
With one another; about beliefs
I find it hardly possible to speak
They are deeply hidden in the mind
The science of Oshi is incomprehensible to me

Of Lord Surtlmorne I will say this:
His powerful build will be admired by
Anyone who has ever lifted weights
And knows exactly how hard it is
To gain strength in one's muscles
What the scholars of Cortina did not understand
Diramis Surtmoln learned long ago:
Soul and body are inseparable
Only in a strong body will there be a sound spirit

Sordgard

Let my opinion be unpopular
Not Teneressa, but Sordgard I will call
The true pearl in the crown
Of the kingdom of Tezoth. As a strong defense
Sordgard has faithfully served us for centuries
People more honest and valiant can hardly
Be found in other regions
In such numbers as here. In the art of war
They are in no way inferior to the Gildarians
And their way of life and customs
Are filled with modest dignity. This is a land of the brave.

We all sympathize with the fate of Sordgard's lord
A man should leave behind so many sons
That at least one might be brave. Alas, fate is harsh
It tests us constantly
At home, sometimes the most terrible
Of battles awaits us — family affairs!
I will not meddle further in another's shoes
I only wish behind his back success
To that glorious man in the field of fatherhood

Cabocha

Without food, of course, we cannot live
The heavy labor of peasants is necessary for all
But I will not honor with many lines
That boring region of farmers
Their reverence for the pumpkin is absurd
I can understand respect for the vine
But not for despicable vegetables, peasant food
Ugly in appearance, useless to the body
And to decorate homes with pumpkins, or in battle
To throw them like a wild baboon
Hurls its own refuse
That is the height of madness one can encounter in the world

The behavior of Lord Grimbana is strange
That lord is overly close to his subjects.
I see a great mistake in that
There are only two paths: fear and reverence
Is it possible to be on familiar terms with a man
And yet bow before him?
What has already been said holds true here:
Better keep your subjects in fear!

Silverdan

He who thinks too much and too diligently
Usually lives a boring life
A beautiful maiden to him is but skeleton and muscles
In distant stars they see only numbers
Some joules, centimeters, and degrees
And other abstruse words
In which there is neither beauty nor strength
Just as there is none in their stooped bodies.

But despite what was said above
Lord Kaleido Cartridge in my eyes
Is worthy of the highest respect
I can only hope that someone will write
A poem or a novel about the dungeon
Into which he boldly dared to descend
This deed must not sink into Lethe
It should be glorified for centuries.

Gildaria

The path of the sword leads us to the heights of honor
The truest and shortest road
The knight's soul will rejoice
Learning the harsh customs of Gildaria
It is always gratifying to see martial zeal
In our young people, sons of Gildaria
All as one skilled and brave
With fire in their hearts, seething energy
Such people are what Tezoth needs!

To be first among equals is commendable
But to rise above is sometimes ruinous
Adalard's deed will not pass without a trace
I am certain of that in mind and soul

Appetite comes with eating
And a power-lover, once sating his greed,
Will want to further increase his domains
Threatening us all with future strife

Though I understand his motives
Though his mind and strength deserve respect
He is sowing great discord.
Let earthly law not yet exact
Its due from Lord Grimm for his deeds
Aconia sees all: in his own son
He has found his terrible punishment

Village

Though small and poor, this region
Has produced many worthy men
Mysterious is the secret of how it happened
That their glorious deeds are combined
With the dreary life of forgotten peasants...

Sanbornia

He who speaks too much of light
Surely cherishes darkness in his soul
Man of Sanbornia has once and for all
Already marked himself with betrayal
Henceforth one cannot expect him to be faithful
To any man or deity
Neither his wild manners
Nor his fanatical speeches will convince me
For his own dark desires
He will sell his honor, escaping punishment
Of all evils, faithlessness is the most terrible.

Lorelei

This is a land of the faint-hearted, who place too little
Importance on courage and strength
And far too much on all sorts of tricks
Unworthy of a knight: just think
Of those devilish pots; even the last fool,
When he throws one, swollen with pride,
Can slay the fiercest warrior
And to value soulless iron
As if it held the meaning of existence
Is only possible for one who is himself soulless
Though this region may be useful
It evokes no respect in me
Of their lord, however, I am ready to speak favorably
Though somewhat restrainedly
He faithfully fulfills his duty
And to ask for more would be excessive.

Miku

Their greatness is invisible to anyone
Except themselves. Perhaps
What is incomprehensible to all of Tezoth
Truly does not exist at all?

Of course, a cruel joke
And quite a worn-out one at that
Dirk Ryderson, as befits a man,
Is courteous, strong, and brave; his knights
And subjects follow his example
Not everyone is destined to be stars in the night
Captivating with radiance and fiery passion
People also need solid stone
To serve as their support

Lunia

Contempt for people I read in the eyes
Of their lord, Druugdrag. And I am always
Ready to reciprocate
Our human race, which has conquered half the world
Though smaller in stature, lacking wings —
Living blood yet rushes in our veins
Unlike the reptilian viscous lymph
Through our deeds, we humans have proven
That these dragon-people do not frighten us
Let them be proud, if they so please
But let them firmly remember: the human race
Is the ruler of the world from ancient times and forever
They must inevitably submit to us

Olivus

This is a boring land; with sluggish phlegm
Life flows here; such a thing can only
Generate wild delight in serfs
Lady Pinkoflight is decorous in all things,
Pleasant to the eye despite her age
And her speech is always pleasing to the ear
But like Olivus, she is moderate
In the firmament of noble maidens and wives
There are many brighter stars, not as a reproach
But for the sake of truth I am compelled to say.

Archipelago

How wild and wondrous is this strange land
Man is distinguished from every creature
By the ability to exist everywhere
From high mountains and dense forests
To wild steppes, dead swamps
But to live on islands amidst the sea waters
Seems the greatest wonder of them all
Free men love the sea expanse
As Teneressa is filled with the spirit of venerable old age
So the Archipelago
Is strong with the living and fierce breath of youthful years
Which is also true for their young ruler
With worthy vassals, the divine Coimaji
Was glorified little less than by his deeds

Estellia

Here everything is mixed: the sound and the strange
I am always ready to praise when strictly
Insults to majesty are punished
Or for wild beastliness they flog and exile
But is there much harm if young people
Come together in close union before marriage?
And does even one in ten marry
At the call of the heart?
Their aesthetics are quite unfamiliar
I am perplexed that common folk
Excessively indulge in dances and refined
Words: that is the sole lot
Of the nobility! Behind the external gloss
Much is still hidden here in mist
This is the strangest land in all the world

Kanamia
If Kanamia did not exist in the world
It would have no meaning, like a body without a soul
Then Tezoth would be like a canvas without color
It would be a starless sky in the quiet of night

Our all-gracious ruler
Deserves much more than to be
Mentioned in an essay merely alongside others
Of her — not here and not now, I believe
I ought to speak.