𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐒

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𝕆𝕦𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕔𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕞𝕖,
𝔹𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝕒𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕚𝕥 𝕗𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝕡𝕠𝕝𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕡𝕠𝕝𝕖;
𝕀 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕜 𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕘𝕠𝕕𝕤 𝕞𝕒𝕪 𝕓𝕖
𝔽𝕠𝕣 𝕞𝕪 𝕦𝕟𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖.

𝕀𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕔𝕝𝕦𝕥𝕔𝕙 𝕠𝕗 𝕔𝕚𝕣𝕦𝕞𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖
𝕀 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕖𝕕 𝕟𝕠𝕣 𝕔𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕕 𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕦𝕕;
𝔹𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕝𝕦𝕕𝕘𝕖𝕠𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖
𝕄𝕪 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕚𝕤 𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕕𝕪 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕦𝕟𝕓𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕕.

𝔹𝕖𝕪𝕠𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕧𝕒𝕝𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕨𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕙 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤,
𝕃𝕠𝕠𝕞𝕤 𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕙𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕠𝕣 𝕠𝕗 𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕖;
𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕪𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕒𝕔𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕪𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤
𝔽𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕤, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕞𝕖, 𝕦𝕟𝕒𝕗𝕣𝕒𝕚𝕕.

𝕀𝕥 𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕚𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕘𝕒𝕥𝕖,
ℍ𝕠𝕨 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕘𝕖𝕕 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕡𝕦𝕟𝕚𝕤𝕙𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕣𝕠𝕝𝕝;
𝕀 𝕒𝕞 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕄𝔸𝕊𝕋𝔼ℝ 𝕠𝕗 𝕞𝕪 𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕗𝕒𝕥𝕖;
𝕀 𝕒𝕞 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℂ𝔸ℙ𝕋𝔸𝕀ℕ 𝕠𝕗 𝕞𝕪 𝕤𝕠𝕦𝕝.

𝔼𝕟𝕛𝕠𝕪

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