Obstinacy Standing Alone Is The Weakest Of

In Visions Of The Night, Like Dropping Rain, Descend The Many Memories Of Pain.

Everyone, To Those Weaker Than Themselves, Is Kind.

The Anvil Of Justice Is Planted Firm, And Fate Who Makes The Sword Does The Forging In Advance.

On Him Who Wields Power Gently, The God Looks Favorably From Afar.

On Me The Tempest Falls. It Does Not Make Me Tremble. O Holy Mother Earth, O Air And Sun, Behold Me. I Am Wronged.