Knights of Tezoth

-- Comrade Yin, accept my humble opus. While there are moments before battle, it is precisely the time to set aside for reading it, to recall the glorious deeds of sovereign men and women, and to be inspired by them as an example for future valiant feats in glory of her who is destined by fate to eclipse all previous Deuses, -- Ambrose loads Yin with yet another portion of writings.

This work Ambrose the Knight did write
Not only to with knowledge of the past
To shine, but so that this work might serve
As an omen of the future
And as instruction for an inquisitive soul
Little is said here of wars and cards
But much -- of sovereign rulers
For it is man who makes history
And not at all the tangled movements
Of external conditions, the desires of "classes"
Or the unthinking motions of peasants
All this has been and always will be
Only in the will and desires of the sovereign.
May his enemies remain in suffering.

Eidos
The further we delve into the depths of epochs
The more the outlines of antiquity
Are shrouded in a fog of exaggerations
Conscious distortions of traditions
Or signs mentioned for the sake of a fine phrase
It is dangerous to believe everything here without caution....

I value his deeds most highly
But I cannot judge his character
Is it possible that, were it not for the foreign woman,
He would still be sitting on the stove?
Without the Hammer, would he not have won his victories?
Or is all this merely the veil of romanticism
With which later creators of history
Decided to frame Eidos's feat
So that idle youths would not be bored
Gnawing on the granite of historical science.

I am not at all a stranger to belief in miracles
But I cannot understand the contradictions:
If the first Deus was so detached
From worldly feats and the ambitions of a power-lover
How could he then not only conquer
But keep the conquered in submission?
With otherworldly help or not
This is possible only for a desperate soul
That fully understands the right of the strong
And desires to bring the world under its thumb.

Silia
I believe in magic: but not in that
Which is diligently studied at the Academy
I believe in the magic of poetry and verse
In the wondrous courage of a valiant heart
The talent of a skilled artist
And the guarantee of a knight's honest oath
I know maidens who heal with just a glance
Skilled trackers, seafarers
Who find the way everywhere even without eyes
And I believe in the mighty spirit of freedom
But Silia's tricks are foreign to me
Amusing curiosities, nothing more
He who is sighted in heart sees miracles
Wherever fate may carry him

And therefore from Silia's achievements
I will leave magic without excessive praise
Far more important are the new laws
And cities -- pearls of the crown

Of the war that befell that era
I will say firmly, even if briefly:
Though not every battle promises us victory
We cannot retreat before a challenge
A coward will not be fortune's favorite
He who is faint-hearted is defeated from birth
Let Tezoth not have won victory then
But the enemies also broke their sharp teeth
And Cortina became our good friend
I consider that reign successful

Ceres
The virtue of a sovereign is different
From the obligations of a simple knight
Here it is no longer enough to uphold one's honor
A poet and a good knight, brave Ceres
Was not, however, known as a caretaker of the country

Like many, I sincerely love and admire
His stories of deeds
His free spirit, mastery of the sword
Art of speech and sense of truth

But I will not forgive him his neglect
Of ruling the realm, for his era
Nearly reduced the power to a wasteland
The sovereign vertical, under him its sprouts
Of lordly licentiousness gave weeds

Satanid
When we call a knight good
He is not famed for benevolence
But for good handling of the sword
With which he cleaves a helmet to the brain
And we call Satanid Wrathful
By no means meaning villainy
But a wrathful intolerance of debauchery
Of vice, cowardice, and degeneracy
With which Tezoth was filled
Truly control is necessary
Over the vile peasant and the cunning lord
Lest the realm sink and fall
Into the swinishness of the former and weakness of the latter.

Though he sometimes overdid it,
The cattle subject to him, our shepherd guarded strictly
Not allowing bold rioting in the herd
And bravely protecting it from wolves

Sheep must be kept strictly in check
But for a faithful horse, we should often
Loosen the reins a little. A clever beast
Sometimes sees the path better than the rider
And if Satanid had chosen as his support
Several dozen worthy men and women
Excelling others many times over
Not only by birth, but by mind and strength
And only slightly loosened
The grip of his ruling hand over them,
Then they would have carried
Their lord to the heights of glory
And I would have named Satanid
First among the past Deuses. But alas!
He was mighty and wise, but was too blinded
By his own rightness and on the path
He did not see too many obstacles.
Alas, the seeds of madness lay within him
Which grew luxuriantly in his descendants
On the fertile soil of Daskwing...

Velkhmethra
Naturally, the soul strives for good
This a worthy man calls freedom
But I will call the motto of that era brutishness
Which is to the liking of dark commoners

The majestic lion suddenly turned
Into a hundred-headed monstrous hydra
But even a donkey would have been better
Than that inflatable puppet.
A child with a hundred blind nannies...
I do not wish to touch the laws of that era
Written for the joy of the unworthy

As for the theater?
That episode, or anecdote, is of course known to me
But only a fool composed it
For there is no meaning in those lines whatsoever.
It is known to everyone: the power of women is terrible
A man is free to act, to compel:
He wields a sword, he promises punishment
He can intimidate with torture and execution
But the power of women is invisible and more dangerous
Sometimes a fleeting smile is enough for them
Or a glance, and sometimes their silence
Speaks clearer than any words
And men carry out their will.
And they themselves do not even notice.

We can always find justifications
As well as opportunities for action.
The sharp sword of fate hangs over everyone
But only a coward sits in despair
Unable to look away from the point
While life seethes all around,
And the sword hangs over everyone in the dance.

Renavan
What is insignificant or unwanted to us
Comes to us easily and constantly.
But let someone say: this I desire!
I think of it day and night
I make mighty and unceasing efforts
To obtain it without fail
Then fate will not give him even a breath
Here rivers will rise and the very sky will fall
Only to not let the hero proceed
Who dared to desire something
One in a thousand overcomes that fate
Ten more will perish under an avalanche
And the rest will be Renavans
Who will carry the burden of the unfulfilled to their graves
Living a sad, though wise, fate

The futility of his quests did not remain
Without a deep scar on Tezoth's body
No innovations were born in the code of laws
And the map of the world was not remade again
Only one thing changed in the world
Lost souls, nameless,
From now on are all called Renavans
And I will call it a post-factum stroke of luck
That that ruler did not find the desired eternal life
Tezoth would have tasted grief
If that weak will had been established
And melancholy would have remained endless

Koymadji
That Deus was akin to forest fires
Beautiful, destructive in life
When the brief glow of glory faded
The soil was renewed, to new life
The world calls to divine Koymadji
Only crawling reptiles are not glad
That in dark burrows they cherish a conspiracy
When the fire of renewal rages
Tezoth calling to grand designs.
They always prefer "sewn up and covered up"
"Oh, if only nothing would happen!"
Those creatures see from tail to nose
From their brooded eggs hidden in their burrows
They look fearfully at the clear light
And moan fearfully among themselves:
"Oh, bad light! Would it not be better for us, crawling ones,
Without leaving our burrows, to own the whole world
And fairly divide the riches
This is for us, and this, well, and this is for me!"
Koymadji greatly frightened these creatures
He was a thunderstorm both internal and external
To the enemies of Tezoth. And though his age was short,
The candle of the worthy lord Koymadji's life
Cannot be said to have gone out in vain or untimely
Such is the law of heaven: the brighter the light
The less chance of living to old age.
In a short time he accomplished more
Than that long-lived Deus Ceres
And he set an example of valor for his descendants
And oblivion does not threaten his fate

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