[ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐄 𝟏 ]𝙱𝚎𝚕𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚝, 𝟸𝟶𝟶𝟾.𝖣𝖾𝗌 𝗋𝗂𝗋𝖾𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗋𝗎𝗌 𝖾𝗍 𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝖾́𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗒 𝗆𝖾𝗍𝖺𝗅 𝗋𝖾́𝗌𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖺𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖺̀ 𝗅’𝖾𝗑𝗍𝖾́𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗎𝗋 𝖽𝗎 𝖬𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗈𝗈𝗇’𝗌 𝖯𝗎𝖻, 𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝗅𝖺 𝖼𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾́𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗅𝖾 𝖲𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗍-𝖠𝗇𝗇𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖺𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗎𝗂𝗍. 𝖫𝖺 𝗋𝖾́𝗉𝗎𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖽𝗎 𝖻𝖺𝗋 𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗎𝖾́ 𝖺𝗎 𝖼𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖾 𝖽𝖾 𝗅𝖺 𝗏𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗏𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖾́𝗏𝗈𝗅𝗎𝖾́𝖾 𝖺𝗎 𝖿𝗂𝗅 𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖾́𝖾𝗌, 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖽’𝗎𝗇 𝗉𝗎𝖻 𝖺𝗎𝗑 𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗎𝗋𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌 𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾, 𝖺𝗎 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝖾̀𝗋𝖾 𝖽𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝖾́𝖽𝗂𝗅𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖽𝖾 𝗅’𝗎𝗇 𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝖼𝗅𝗎𝖻 𝖽𝖾 𝖻𝗂𝗄𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗉𝗅𝗎𝗌 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗍 𝖾𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾́ : 𝗅𝖾 𝖲𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖠𝗇𝖺𝗋𝖼𝗁𝗒 𝖬𝗈𝗍𝗈𝖼𝗒𝖼𝗅𝖾 𝖢𝗅𝗎𝖻 𝖽𝖾 𝖡𝖾𝗅𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍. 𝖫’𝗈𝗋𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗌𝖾́𝗏𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗎 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗎𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝗅𝖺 𝖼𝖺𝗉𝗂𝗍𝖺𝗅𝖾 𝗂𝗋𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖺𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗉𝗎𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝖾 𝖽𝖾́𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖽𝖾 𝗅𝖺 𝗌𝗈𝗂𝗋𝖾́𝖾, 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗋𝗌 𝗊𝗎’𝗎𝗇𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗅𝗁𝗈𝗎𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾 𝖿𝖾́𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗌𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗀𝖾𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗅𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗎𝗑 𝗉𝗎𝖻, 𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝖣𝗈𝖼 𝖬𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗂𝗋𝖾𝗌 𝖾𝗍 𝗎𝗌𝖾́𝖾𝗌 𝗌’𝖾𝗇𝖿𝗈𝗇𝖼̧𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖽𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗅𝖺𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌 𝖽’𝖾𝖺𝗎 𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗌 𝗊𝗎’𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝗅𝖺 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗎𝗌𝗌𝖾́𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗏𝖾́𝖾 𝖽’𝗎𝗇𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝖺̀ 𝗅𝖺 𝖿𝗈𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝖾𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗅𝖺𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗂𝗍𝖾.𝖠𝗒𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗍 𝗅𝖺 𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗂𝗌𝖾́𝖾 𝖽𝗎 𝖻𝖺𝗋, 𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝗇𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗋𝖽𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖺̀ 𝗒 𝗉𝖾́𝗇𝖾́𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗋, 𝗌𝖺 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗎𝖻𝗎𝗋𝗇 𝖽𝖾́𝗀𝗈𝗎𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗌𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌 𝖾́𝗉𝖺𝗎𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗋𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝗂𝖾̀𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝖻𝗂𝗄𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖾𝗍 𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗅𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝖻𝗂𝗍𝗎𝖾́𝗌 𝖽𝗎 𝗉𝗎𝖻 𝗌𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗑𝖾̀𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗌𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝖺 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖾, 𝗅𝖺 𝖽𝖾́𝗏𝗂𝗌𝖺𝗀𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖺𝗏𝖾𝖼 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗍𝖾́ 𝖾𝗍 𝗆𝖾́𝖿𝗂𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾. 𝖫𝖺 𝗃𝖾𝗎𝗇𝖾 𝖿𝖾𝗆𝗆𝖾 𝗌’𝖺𝗏𝖺𝗇𝖼̧𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖺̀ 𝗉𝖺𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝖾𝗇 𝖽𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖽𝗎 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗍𝗈𝗂𝗋, 𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗆𝖻𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝗎 𝗋𝖾𝗀𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗎𝗇𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖾 𝖾𝗇 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗎𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗋, 𝖾𝗍 𝖼’𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗋𝗌 𝗊𝗎’𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖺𝗎𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗎𝗇𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗂𝗀𝗇𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗌𝖼𝗎𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝖺𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗌, 𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖺𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖾́𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖻𝗋𝖾 𝖺̀ 𝗅𝖺 𝖿𝗈𝗂𝗌 𝗋𝖺𝗎𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖾𝗍 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖽𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝗅𝖾, 𝖫𝗂𝖺𝗆 𝖬𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝖾, 𝗅𝖾 𝗏𝗂𝖼𝖾-𝗉𝗋𝖾́𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖽𝗎 𝖼𝗅𝗎𝖻.—— 𝐸𝑙𝑖𝑗𝑎𝘩 ?! 𝑄𝑢’𝑒𝑠𝑡-𝑐𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑡𝑢 𝑓𝑖𝑐𝘩𝑒𝑠 𝑖𝑐𝑖 ? 𝑆𝑖 𝑡𝑜𝑛 𝑝𝑒̀𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑡𝑢 𝑒𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝘩𝑜𝑟𝑠 𝑎̀ 𝑢𝑛𝑒 𝘩𝑒𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑒, 𝑗𝑒 𝑣𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑒𝑛 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑟𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑚𝑜𝑛 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑒.
—— 𝑂𝑛𝑐𝑙𝑒 𝐿𝑖𝑎𝑚 ! 𝐼𝑙 𝑓𝑎𝑢𝑡 𝑎𝑏𝑠𝑜𝑙𝑢𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑡𝑢 𝑚𝑒 𝑑𝑒́𝑝𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑠… 𝐽’𝑎𝑖 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑜𝑖𝑛 𝑑𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑐 𝑝𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑟 𝑎̀ 𝑢𝑛 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑟𝑡 𝑙𝑒 𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑘-𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑐𝘩𝑎𝑖𝑛, 𝑒𝑡 𝑡𝑢 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑛𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑝𝑎, 𝑖𝑙 𝑝𝑟𝑒́𝑓𝑒̀𝑟𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑖 𝑚’𝑒𝑛𝑓𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑒𝑟 𝑎̀ 𝑣𝑖𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑠 𝑚𝑎 𝑐𝘩𝑎𝑚𝑏𝑟𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑢𝑡𝑜̂𝑡 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑑𝑒 𝑚𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑟 𝑚’𝑒́𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑝𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑢𝑛𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑖𝑠.𝖫𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖺𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝖺𝗂𝗋𝖾 𝖾́𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝗌𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗍 𝖽𝖾 𝗋𝖾́𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗋 𝗏𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖺𝗎𝗑 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝗌𝖺 𝗇𝗂𝖾̀𝖼𝖾, 𝗅𝗈𝗋𝗌𝗊𝗎’𝗂𝗅𝗌 𝖿𝗎𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝖽𝖺𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗎𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗋 𝗅’𝗎𝗇 𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝖻𝗂𝗄𝖾𝗋 𝗊𝗎𝗂 𝖺𝗏𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾́ 𝗌𝖺 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝖺𝗎 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗍𝗈𝗂𝗋, 𝗌𝖺 𝖽𝖾́𝗆𝖺𝗋𝖼𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝖽’𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖾𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝗎𝗋𝖺 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗋𝖺𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗀𝖺𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝗌𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝖾̂𝗍𝗋𝖾. 𝖢’𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗎𝗇𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝗏𝖾́ 𝖺̀ 𝗅𝖾𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗎𝗍𝖾𝗎𝗋, 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗅𝖾𝗎𝗍𝖾́𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝗅𝖺 𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗌𝖾 𝗋𝗂𝗏𝖾̀𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗌𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝖽𝗎 𝗆𝗈𝗍𝖺𝗋𝖽, 𝗎𝗇𝖾 𝖽𝖾́𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗀𝖾 𝖾́𝗅𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗌’𝖾𝗆𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖽𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝖾𝗇𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗈𝗉𝗉𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗋𝗉𝗈𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝖺̀ 𝗅’𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝖾̂𝗆𝖾 𝗈𝗎̀ 𝗅𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗀𝖺𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝗌’𝖺𝖼𝖼𝗋𝗈𝖼𝗁𝖾̀𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍. 𝖫𝖾 𝗆𝗒𝗈𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖽𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖺̀ 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗋𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗋𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗌𝖺 𝗉𝗈𝗂𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖾, 𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖻𝗂𝖾𝗇 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗅 𝖽𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗋𝖾 𝗅𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝗈̂𝗅𝖾 𝖽𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝖾𝗌𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗋𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗅𝖺 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝗑 𝖺̀ 𝗅𝖺 𝖿𝗈𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖿𝗈𝗇𝖽𝖾 𝖾𝗍 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗒𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝖽𝗎 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗍 𝗋𝖾́𝗌𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖺̀ 𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗒𝗆𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗌 :—— 𝐽𝑒 𝑛’𝑎𝑖 𝑝𝑎𝑠 𝑝𝑢̂ 𝑚’𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑒̂𝑐𝘩𝑒𝑟 𝑑’𝑒́𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑣𝑜𝑡𝑟𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑗𝑒 𝑝𝑒𝑢𝑥 𝑡𝑒 𝑑𝑒́𝑝𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑖 𝑡𝑢 𝑣𝑒𝑢𝑥, 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑎̀ 𝑢𝑛𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑢𝑙𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛… 𝑄𝑢𝑒 𝑡𝑢 𝑚𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑡’𝑎𝑐𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑎𝑔𝑛𝑒𝑟 𝑎̀ 𝑐𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑟𝑡, 𝘩𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑖𝑟𝑒 𝑑𝑒 𝑔𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑢𝑛 𝑜𝑒𝑖𝑙 𝑠𝑢𝑟 𝑡𝑜𝑖 𝑒𝑡 𝑑’𝑒́𝑣𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑎̀ 𝑡𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑙𝑒 𝑢𝑛𝑒 𝑔𝑢𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑒 𝑑𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑒. 𝐶̧𝑎 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑎 𝑎̀ 𝑐𝘩𝑎𝑟𝑔𝑒 𝑑𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑎𝑛𝑐𝘩𝑒, 𝑛’𝑒𝑠𝑡-𝑐𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑠 𝐿𝑖𝑎𝑚 ?𝖠𝗅𝗈𝗋𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗅’𝗈𝗇𝖼𝗅𝖾 𝖽𝖾 𝗅’𝖺𝖽𝗈𝗅𝖾𝗌𝖼𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗋𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗒𝗍𝖾 𝖽’𝗎𝗇𝖾 𝖺𝖼𝖼𝗈𝗅𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝖺̀ 𝗅𝖺 𝖿𝗈𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗏𝖾𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝖾𝗍 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝖽𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗍𝗎𝖽𝖾, 𝗂𝗅 𝗇𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗋𝖽𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖺̀ 𝖿𝖺𝗂𝗋𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝖾́𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌, 𝗅𝖺 𝗃𝖾𝗎𝗇𝖾 𝖿𝖾𝗆𝗆𝖾 𝖽𝖾́𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗏𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖻𝗂𝖾𝗇 𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗅𝖾 𝗆𝗒𝗌𝗍𝖾́𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗎𝗑 𝖻𝗂𝗄𝖾𝗋 𝗌’𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖢𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗋𝗈𝗇 𝖳𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗋, 𝖾𝗍 𝗊𝗎’𝗂𝗅 𝗇’𝖾́𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗋𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝖾́𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾́ 𝖽𝖾 𝖲𝖠𝖬𝖢𝖱𝖮, 𝗅𝖾 𝖼𝗅𝗎𝖻 𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗅 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝖾́ 𝖾𝗇 𝖢𝖺𝗅𝗂𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗇𝗂𝖾. 𝖤𝗅𝗂𝗃𝖺𝗁 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝗌𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗂𝖾𝗎𝗌𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝖺𝗎𝗏𝖾𝗎𝗋 𝖺𝗏𝖾𝖼 𝗎𝗇𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖾 𝖽𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝖼𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝖾𝗍 𝖺̀ 𝖼𝖾𝗍 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝖾́𝖼𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗏𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗎 𝖿𝗈𝗇𝖽 𝖽’𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝗊𝗎’𝗂𝗅 𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖽𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗂𝗋 𝗌𝖺 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗉𝗋𝖾 𝖪𝗋𝗒𝗉𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗂𝗍𝖾. 𝖤𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗎 𝗉𝗅𝗎𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖿𝗈𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝖾̂𝗍𝗋𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝗎𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖾 𝖾́𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝗅𝖾 𝖽𝖾́𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖽’𝗎𝗇 𝗉𝖾́𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗂 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗈𝗍𝗂𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗊𝗎’𝖾𝗇𝖿𝗅𝖺𝗆𝗆𝖾́, 𝖾𝗍 𝖼𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗊𝗎𝗂 𝗅’𝖺𝗏𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖾𝗇𝗏𝖺𝗁𝗂𝖾 𝖼𝖾 𝗃𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝖺̀ 𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝗅 𝖾𝗍 𝖻𝗂𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗆𝖾𝗋.[ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐄 𝟐 ]𝖣𝗎𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝟥 𝗆𝗈𝗂𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝗂 𝗌𝗎𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝗎𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗉𝗅𝗎𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗎𝖻𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾, 𝖤𝗅𝗂𝗃𝖺𝗁 𝖿𝗎̂𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗃𝖾𝗍𝖾́𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗅’𝗎𝗇𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺̀ 𝗅𝖺 𝖿𝗈𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝖼𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖾𝗍 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗂𝗍𝗈𝗒𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗌 𝗅𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗂𝗌, 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗋𝗌 𝗊𝗎’𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝗌’𝖾́𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝖺̀ 𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗂𝗋 𝗎𝗇𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗋𝖾𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝖺𝗎 𝗀𝗈𝗎̂𝗍 𝖽’𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖽𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗏𝖾𝖼 𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝖾́𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝖲𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖠𝗇𝖺𝗋𝖼𝗁𝗒. 𝖬𝖺𝗅𝗀𝗋𝖾́ 𝗅𝖺 𝖽𝗂𝖿𝖿𝖾́𝗋𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖽’𝖺̂𝗀𝖾 𝖾́𝗏𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝖾𝗍 𝖽𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗎 𝗌𝗈𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗅 𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖾 𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝖾𝗍 𝖢𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗋𝗈𝗇, 𝖤𝗅𝗂𝗃𝖺𝗁 𝗇’𝖺𝗏𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝖺𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖺̀ 𝗌’𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗅𝗂𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗏𝖾𝖼 𝗎𝗇𝖾 𝗍𝖾́𝗆𝖾́𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾́ 𝖾𝗍 𝗎𝗇𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾́ 𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗅𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝗈𝗍𝗂𝖽𝗂𝖾𝗇 𝗊𝗎𝗂 𝗅𝖺 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗂𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗎𝗑 𝖲𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖠𝗇𝖺𝗋𝖼𝗁𝗒, 𝗅’𝗂𝗋𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖺𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝗂𝗏𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗍 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖽’𝖺𝗂𝗀𝗎𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗎 𝗆𝗂𝖾𝗎𝗑 𝖢𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗋𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗆𝖾𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗂𝗑 𝖺̀ 𝖿𝖺𝗂𝗋𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝖺 𝗉𝖾́𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗇𝗂𝗍𝖾́ 𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝗂𝖿𝖿𝖾́𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗂𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗌.𝖲𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝗅𝖾 𝖫𝗂𝖺𝗆 𝗌𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗏𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗋𝗌 𝗍𝖾́𝗆𝗈𝗂𝗇 𝖽𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖺𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖽𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝗎𝗌 𝖾𝗇 𝗉𝗅𝗎𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝖾𝗅𝗎𝗂 𝗊𝗎’𝗂𝗅 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾́𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾 𝗎𝗇 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗌, 𝗂𝗅 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺 𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖻𝗂𝖾𝗇 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗅 𝖽𝖾 𝗅𝖺 𝗋𝖾́𝗌𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖾𝗋, 𝗅𝗎𝗂 𝖿𝖺𝗂𝗌𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗋𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖼𝖾𝗍 𝗎𝗇𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖾́𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗎𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗉 𝖽𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗎𝗑 𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝖾𝗍 𝗊𝗎’𝗂𝗅 𝗇𝖾 𝗅𝗎𝗂 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖽𝗎 𝖽𝖾́𝗌𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗂 —— 𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗉𝗈𝗌 𝗌’𝖾́𝗍𝖺𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗏𝗎𝗌 𝖺𝗆𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖿𝗂𝖾́𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗋 𝗅𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗌𝗌𝖾́ 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗎𝗌𝖾́ 𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖾 𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝖾𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝗂 𝖽𝖾́𝗌𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗏𝖺𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗉𝗅𝗎𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗃𝖺𝗆𝖺𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗇𝖾́𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾 𝖺̀ 𝗅𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗌 𝗒𝖾𝗎𝗑.𝖫𝖺 𝗉𝗋𝖾́𝗌𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖽𝗎 𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗌 𝗅𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗂 𝖾𝗍 𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗌 𝗆𝖾𝗆𝖻𝗋𝖾𝗌 𝖺̀ 𝖡𝖾𝗅𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗇’𝖾́𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗅𝗁𝖾𝗎𝗋𝖾𝗎𝗌𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗈𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗋𝖾, 𝖼𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗇𝗂𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗌’𝗒 𝖾́𝗍𝖺𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖽𝖾́𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾́ 𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗋𝖾́𝗀𝗅𝖾𝗋 𝗎𝗇 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗀𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗅𝖾𝗑𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝖾́ 𝖺𝗎𝗑 𝖺𝖿𝖿𝖺𝗂𝗋𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾́𝗀𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝗎 𝖼𝗅𝗎𝖻 — 𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝖿𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖽𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗏𝗈𝗂𝗋 𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖿𝗂𝖼 𝖽’𝖺𝗋𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗏𝖾𝖼 𝗅’𝖨𝖱𝖠 — 𝖼𝖾𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗇𝗌𝖺𝖻𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗍𝖾́𝗌 𝗌𝗎𝗋 𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗉𝖺𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝖺̀ 𝖽𝖾𝗏𝗈𝗂𝗋 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝖺 𝖼𝖺𝗉𝗂𝗍𝖺𝗅𝖾 𝗂𝗋𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖺𝗂𝗌𝖾. 𝖨𝗅 𝖾́𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗌𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖤𝗅𝗂𝗃𝖺𝗁 𝖽𝖾 𝗌𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝖾́𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾́𝖾 𝖽𝖾 𝖼𝖾𝗅𝗎𝗂 𝗊𝗎𝗂 𝖾́𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖽𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗎 𝗌𝖺 𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝖽’𝖾̂𝗍𝗋𝖾, 𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗌 𝗊𝗎’𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝗌’𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗋𝖾̂𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖺̀ 𝗌’𝖾𝗇𝗏𝗈𝗅𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗏𝖾𝖼 𝖾𝗎𝗑 𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝖺 𝖢𝖺𝗅𝗂𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗇𝗂𝖾, 𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗏𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗋𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖾́𝖾 𝖺̀ 𝗎𝗇 𝗎𝗅𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗆 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗈𝗌𝖾́ 𝗉𝖺𝗋 𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌, 𝖼𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗇𝗂𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗒𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖽𝖾́𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾́𝗌 𝖽’𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗒𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝖺 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗂𝖾̀𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗎𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾…𝘌𝘭𝘪𝘫𝘢𝘩 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘵-𝘵-𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘥𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦 𝘢̀ 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘫𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘥𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘶𝘯𝘦 𝘷𝘪𝘦 𝘥𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘶𝘹 𝘤𝘰̂𝘵𝘦́𝘴 𝘥’𝘶𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘭𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘪, 𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘶𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘳 𝘦𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘫𝘰𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘱𝘦̀𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘢̀ 𝘕𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦 ? 𝘊𝘦𝘵 𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘮 𝘢𝘷𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘦𝘶 𝘭’𝘦𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘵 𝘥’𝘶𝘯 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘤̧𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘦, 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘨𝘳𝘦́ 𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘊𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯, 𝘭𝘢 𝘳𝘦́𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘷𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪 𝘱𝘢𝘳 𝘳𝘦́𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘦 𝘭𝘶𝘦𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘢𝘭𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘦.[ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐄 𝟑 ]𝖣𝖾́𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗂𝗌 𝖺̂𝗀𝖾́𝖾 𝖽𝖾 𝟤𝟦 𝖺𝗇𝗌, 𝖤𝗅𝗂𝗃𝖺𝗁 𝖾́𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝗎𝗇𝖾 𝗃𝖾𝗎𝗇𝖾 𝖿𝖾𝗆𝗆𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾́𝗋𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗌𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗆𝖾́𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗉𝗎𝗂𝗌 𝗊𝗎’𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗏𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝖺 𝖽𝖾́𝖼𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖽𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗃𝗈𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗋𝖾 𝗅𝖾 𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖼𝗁 𝖽𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌-𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝖺̀ 𝖭𝖺𝗌𝗁𝗏𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾, 𝖽𝖾́𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖾̀𝗋𝖾 𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗈̂𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖾́ 𝗍𝗎𝗆𝗎𝗅𝗍𝗎𝖾𝗎𝗑. 𝖲𝖺 𝗏𝗂𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝗈𝗍𝗂𝖽𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗇𝖾 𝖺𝗎 𝗌𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝖽𝗎 𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖼𝗁 𝗅𝗎𝗂 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝗎𝗇𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗌𝖿𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗎𝗅𝗂𝖾̀𝗋𝖾, 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗋𝗌 𝗊𝗎’𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝗌’𝗂𝗇𝗏𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗋𝗉𝗌 𝖾𝗍 𝖺̂𝗆𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌’𝗈𝖼𝖼𝗎𝗉𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝗂𝖿𝖿𝖾́𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗌 𝗋𝖺𝖼𝖾𝗌 𝖽’𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗎𝗑 𝗊𝗎𝗂 𝗏𝗂𝗏𝖺𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗌𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝖺 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗉𝗋𝗂𝖾́𝗍𝖾́, 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖺𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗅’𝖾́𝗅𝖾𝗏𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝖽𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗏𝖺𝗎𝗑 𝖳𝖾𝗇𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝖶𝖺𝗅𝗄𝖾𝗋 𝗊𝗎𝗂 𝖿𝖺𝗂𝗌𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝗅𝖺 𝖿𝗂𝖾𝗋𝗍𝖾́ 𝖽𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗉𝖾̀𝗋𝖾 𝖾𝗍 𝖽𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖽-𝗉𝖾̀𝗋𝖾.𝖬𝖺𝗂𝗌 𝗎𝗇 𝗃𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖽’𝖾́𝗍𝖾́, 𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗌 𝗊𝗎’𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝗌’𝗈𝖼𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗒𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝗎𝗇𝖾 𝗋𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗂𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗅𝖾 𝖼𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖾 𝖽𝖾 𝖭𝖺𝗌𝗁𝗏𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝖼𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝖺𝗀𝗇𝖾́𝖾 𝖽𝖾 𝗌𝖺 𝗆𝖾𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗆𝗂𝖾, 𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝖿𝗎̂𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝖽𝖺𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗉𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾́𝖾 𝖺̀ 𝗅𝖺 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗂𝖾 𝖽𝖾 𝗅’𝗎𝗇 𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗉𝗅𝗎𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗌𝖾́𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗋 𝗎𝗇 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾 𝖽’𝗎𝗇𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝖽’𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖾́𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝗂 𝗌𝖾𝗆𝖻𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝖼𝗂𝗇𝖾́ 𝗉𝖺𝗋 𝗅’𝖺𝗎𝗋𝖺 𝖺̀ 𝗅𝖺 𝖿𝗈𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗀𝗇𝖾́𝗍𝗂𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖾𝗍 𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝗊𝗎’𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝖽𝖾́𝗀𝖺𝗀𝖾𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗋𝗌 𝗊𝗎’𝗂𝗅 𝗅’𝖺𝗏𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝗈𝖻𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾́𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗅𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗉𝗅𝗎𝗌 𝗍𝗈̂𝗍 𝗅𝗈𝗋𝗌𝗊𝗎’𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗏𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖽𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗅𝖺 𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗊𝗎𝖾.𝖤𝗇 𝗏𝗈𝗒𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝖺̀ 𝗅𝖺 𝖿𝗈𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝖾́𝖿𝗂𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝖾𝗍 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗎𝖾́𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝗅𝖺 𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗌𝖾, 𝗂𝗅 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗉𝗅𝗎𝗌 𝗍𝖺𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝖺 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅’𝗂𝗇𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗆𝖾𝗋 𝗊𝗎’𝗂𝗅 𝖾́𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝗉𝗁𝗈𝗍𝗈𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅’𝖺𝗀𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗋𝖾́𝗀𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅𝖾 𝖽𝖾 𝖬𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝖳𝖾𝗇𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝖴𝖲𝖠, 𝖾𝗍 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖿𝗂𝗅 𝗅’𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾́𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖾́𝗇𝗈𝗋𝗆𝖾́𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍.𝘚𝘪 𝘰𝘯 𝘭𝘶𝘪 𝘢𝘷𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘵 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘭𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘦́𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘶𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘲𝘶’𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘳 𝘭’𝘶𝘯 𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘶𝘴 𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘦́𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘌́𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘴-𝘜𝘯𝘪𝘴, 𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘦́𝘦 𝘔𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘜𝘚𝘈 𝘶𝘯 𝘢𝘯 𝘱𝘭𝘶𝘴 𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘥, 𝘌𝘭𝘪𝘫𝘢𝘩 𝘯’𝘺 𝘢𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘫𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘳𝘶 𝘶𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘭 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵. 𝘌𝘵 𝘱𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵… 𝘚𝘰𝘯 𝘦́𝘵𝘰𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘷𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪 𝘱𝘢𝘳 𝘭𝘢 𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘶 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢̀ 𝘥𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦́𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴, 𝘭𝘶𝘪 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘷𝘢𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘶𝘯𝘦 𝘷𝘪𝘦 𝘥𝘦 𝘳𝘦̂𝘷𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘪 𝘭𝘶𝘪 𝘢𝘷𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘥𝘦 𝘭𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘦 𝘦𝘵 𝘥𝘦 𝘭𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦́𝘦.

[𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐄 𝟒]𝟤𝟢𝟣𝟦, 𝘕𝘦𝘸-𝘠𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘊𝘪𝘵𝘺.𝖤𝗅𝗂𝗃𝖺𝗁 𝖬𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗏𝖾𝗇𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖽𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗋 𝗎𝗇𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖾́𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝖾̀𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗎 𝗌𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝖽𝖾 𝗅𝖺 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾, 𝖺̀ 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝗈𝗋𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗏𝖾𝖺𝗎 𝗋𝗈̂𝗅𝖾 𝖽𝖾 𝖬𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝖴𝖲𝖠 𝖺𝗏𝖾𝖼 𝖽𝖾́𝖽𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖾𝗇 𝖽𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖻𝗂𝖾𝗇 𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗅’𝖾́𝗀𝖾́𝗋𝗂𝖾 𝖽𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗆 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖵𝗂𝗏𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗇𝖾 𝖶𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗐𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝖾𝗍 𝖳𝗁𝗂𝖾𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝖬𝗎𝗀𝗅𝖾𝗋.𝖬𝖺𝗅𝗀𝗋𝖾́ 𝖼𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾 𝗏𝗂𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝖾́𝗉𝗂𝖽𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝗂 𝗅’𝖺𝗏𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗌𝖾́𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗃𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗌 𝖾𝗍 𝗅𝖺 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗂𝖾́𝗍𝖾́,
𝗅𝖺 𝗃𝖾𝗎𝗇𝖾 𝖿𝖾𝗆𝗆𝖾 𝗇’𝖺𝗏𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝗉𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝖺𝗋𝖽𝖾́ 𝖺̀ 𝖾̂𝗍𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖾́𝖾 𝖺𝗎 𝗋𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝗅𝖺 𝗆𝖾́𝖽𝖺𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾, 𝗌𝖾 𝗏𝗈𝗒𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝗅𝖺 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖽𝗎 𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗎 𝖽𝖾 𝗅𝖺 𝗆𝗈𝖽𝖾 𝖾𝗍 𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗆𝖾́𝖽𝗂𝖺𝗌. 𝖤𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗋𝗌 𝗅𝖺 𝖽𝖾́𝖼𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖽𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖼𝖾𝗍 𝗎𝗇𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝖿𝗂𝗇 𝖽𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗎𝗇𝖾 𝗏𝗂𝖾 𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗂𝗋𝖾, 𝗀𝖺𝗋𝖽𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖼𝗋𝖾́ 𝖺𝗎 𝗌𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝖽𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗒𝗈𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖽𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗉𝗅𝗎𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗎𝗑 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗂𝗋𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝖼𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖾́𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖾́𝖾.[•••]𝖠𝗅𝗈𝗋𝗌 𝗊𝗎’𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖺̀ 𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗎𝖾́ 𝖽𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗅𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝖾 𝖡𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗅𝗒𝗇, 𝖺𝖼𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝖺𝗀𝗇𝖾́𝖾 𝖽’𝗎𝗇𝖾 𝖺𝗆𝗂𝖾 𝗊𝗎’𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗏𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖾́𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗋𝗌 𝖽𝗎 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝖬𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝖴𝖲𝖠, 𝖼𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗇𝗂𝖾̀𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗏𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖽𝖾́𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾́ 𝖽𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗂𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖺𝗂̂𝗍𝗋𝖾 𝖺̀ 𝗅’𝗂𝗋𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖺𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝗅’𝗎𝗇 𝖽𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗌, 𝗊𝗎𝗂 𝖾́𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝗉𝗅𝗎𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗋𝖾́𝗉𝗎𝗍𝖾́ 𝖽𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗅𝖺 𝖼𝗂𝗍𝖾́ 𝗇𝖾𝗐-𝗒𝗈𝗋𝗄𝖺𝗂𝗌𝖾. 𝖠𝗎 𝖿𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗍 𝖺̀ 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗊𝗎’𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗌’𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖽𝗎 𝖻𝖺𝗋, 𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗌 𝖽’𝖤𝗅𝗂𝗃𝖺𝗁 𝖿𝗂𝗑𝖺𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖺𝗏𝖾𝖼 𝗎𝗇 𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝖽𝖾́𝗉𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗇𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖺̀ 𝗅𝖺 𝖿𝗈𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝗅𝖺 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗍𝖾́ 𝖾𝗍 𝖽𝖾 𝗅𝖺 𝗆𝖾́𝖿𝗂𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗅𝖺 𝖽𝖾𝗏𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾, 𝗌𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗏𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗋𝖾 : 𝐂𝐎𝐘𝐎𝐓𝐄 𝐔𝐆𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐍.𝖫𝖺 𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗍𝖾𝗇𝖺𝗂𝗋𝖾 𝗉𝖾́𝗇𝖾́𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗅𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗉𝗅𝗎𝗌 𝗍𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝖺𝗎 𝖼𝗈𝖾𝗎𝗋 𝖽’𝗎𝗇 𝗎𝗇𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 : 𝖺𝗎𝗑 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗆𝗂𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌, 𝗅𝖺 𝗌𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗋𝖻𝗈𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝗎𝗇𝖾 𝖽𝖾́𝖼𝗈𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗒𝗉𝗂𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖽𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗇, 𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗓𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗌𝖾 𝖽𝖾́𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗂̂𝗇𝖺𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗌𝗎𝗋 𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝖼𝗄. 𝖬𝖺𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝗂 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗅’𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖽𝖾 𝗅𝖺 𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝖿𝗎̂𝗍 𝗅𝖺 𝗉𝗋𝖾́𝗌𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖽𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗎𝗑 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗂𝖽𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝗂 𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝖺𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖽𝖾𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗌𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗍𝗈𝗂𝗋 𝖾𝗇 𝖻𝗈𝗂𝗌, 𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗂̂𝗇𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗇𝗌𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗎𝖾𝗅𝗌 𝖾𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗂̂𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗌𝖾́𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗌𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗀𝖾́𝗇𝖾́𝗋𝖾𝗎𝗌𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗌𝗂𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝗎𝗌𝗂𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗌 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝖽𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖺̀ 𝗅𝖺 𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍𝖾𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾, 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗋𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗅𝖺 𝖿𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖾 𝖾𝗇 𝖿𝗎𝗋𝗂𝖾 𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝗅𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗆 𝖽𝗎 𝖻𝖺𝗋.𝖠𝖽𝗆𝗂𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖺𝗏𝖾𝖼 𝗎𝗇𝖾 𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝖼𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗅’𝖺𝗂𝗌𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝗎𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖽𝖾́𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗂𝖽𝗌, 𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝗆𝗂𝖾 𝖬𝗂𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖺 𝗅’𝗂𝗇𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗊𝗎’𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖾́𝗍𝖺𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝖢𝗈𝗒𝗈𝗍𝖾𝗌, 𝖾𝗍 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗅𝖺 𝗋𝖾́𝗉𝗎𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖽𝗎 𝖻𝖺𝗋 𝗌’𝖾́𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖿𝖺𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝖺̂𝖼𝖾 𝖺̀ 𝗅𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝖼𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝖾𝗌 𝗉𝗅𝗎𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗏𝗈𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗌. 𝖢’𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗋𝗌 𝗊𝗎’𝗎𝗇 𝖽𝖾́𝖼𝗅𝗂𝖼 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝖽𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗏𝖾𝗇𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖺̀ 𝗌’𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗅’𝖾𝗌𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗍 𝖽’𝖤𝗅𝗂𝗃𝖺𝗁 : 𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝗉𝗅𝗎𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗃𝖺𝗆𝖺𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗂𝗋 𝗅’𝗎𝗇𝖾 𝖽’𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖾 𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗌, 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘳 𝘶𝘯𝘦 𝐂𝐨𝐲𝐨𝐭𝐞.