𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓 𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖛𝖊, 𝖒𝖞 𝖇𝖊𝖆𝖈𝖔𝖓 𝖇𝖗𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙,
𝕲𝖚𝖎𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖒𝖞 𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖑 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 𝖉𝖆𝖗𝖐𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙,
𝕴𝖙𝖘 𝖈𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖎𝖙𝖘 𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖊,
𝕬𝖓 𝖊𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖒𝖆 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊 𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖊𝖗𝖆𝖘𝖊.
𝕴𝖓 𝖑𝖚𝖓𝖆𝖗 𝖕𝖍𝖆𝖘𝖊𝖘, 𝕴 𝖋𝖎𝖓𝖉 𝖒𝖞 𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖈𝖊,
𝕬 𝖈𝖊𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖆𝖑 𝖘𝖞𝖒𝖕𝖍𝖔𝖓𝖞, 𝖘𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖙 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖜𝖎𝖘𝖊,
𝕱𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖈𝖊𝖓𝖙'𝖘 𝖇𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖍 𝖙𝖔 𝖋𝖚𝖑𝖑𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖘 𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖉,
𝕬 𝖈𝖞𝖈𝖑𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖇𝖊𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖞, 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖕𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖉.
𝕿𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 𝖙𝖊𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖈𝖔𝖕𝖊𝖘, 𝕴 𝖘𝖊𝖊𝖐 𝖎𝖙𝖘 𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙,
𝕸𝖆𝖗𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆𝖙 𝖎𝖙𝖘 𝖈𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘, 𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖇𝖗𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙,
𝕴𝖙𝖘 𝖒𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖘 𝖗𝖎𝖘𝖊, 𝖒𝖆𝖏𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖈 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖑,
𝕬 𝖈𝖊𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖆𝖑 𝖙𝖆𝖕𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖞, 𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆𝖑𝖑.
𝕴𝖓 𝖆𝖜𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖜𝖔𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗, 𝕴 𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖊,
𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓'𝖘 𝖊𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖑, 𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖚𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖊,
𝕱𝖔𝖗 𝖎𝖓 𝖎𝖙𝖘 𝖔𝖗𝖇𝖎𝖙, 𝕴 𝖋𝖎𝖓𝖉 𝖒𝖞 𝖕𝖑𝖆𝖈𝖊,
𝕬 𝕾𝖊𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖔𝖕𝖍𝖎𝖑𝖊, 𝖋𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖉 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖑𝖚𝖓𝖆𝖗 𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖊.
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