Liked on YouTube: THE ENGLISH OF SAVITRI BY SHRADDHAVAN BOOK 2 CANTO 7 S 4 LINES 236-334 2019-10-10 PAGES 208-211

THE ENGLISH OF SAVITRI BY SHRADDHAVAN BOOK 2 CANTO 7 S 4 LINES 236-334 2019-10-10 PAGES 208-211
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐑𝐈 𝐀 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐇𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐑𝐈 𝐁𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐀𝐍, 𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄 𝟏𝟎-𝟏𝟎-𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟗 ==================================== 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐑𝐈 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐓𝐖𝐎 - 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 - 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝟐𝟑𝟔-𝟑𝟑𝟒 𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝟐𝟎𝟖-𝟐𝟏𝟏 =================================== 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒅, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒌𝒆𝒑𝒕 𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒆: 𝑨𝒍𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒎𝒆. 𝑨 𝒄𝒂𝒑𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒍 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒂 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒆: 𝑰𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒏𝒐 𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒆𝒓, 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒑𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒗𝒆. 𝑯𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒘 𝒂 𝒄𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑰𝒈𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝑭𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒖𝒑𝒐𝒏 𝒂 𝒔𝒐𝒊𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝑳𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕. 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒘𝒂𝒍𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒆: 𝑶𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒊𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒏 𝑬𝒗𝒊𝒍❜𝒔 𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒔, 𝑻𝒐 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝑶𝒓 𝒕𝒐 𝒆𝒏𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒄𝒆 𝒂 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒐𝒏 𝒍𝒊𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈; 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑬𝒈𝒐 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒖𝒑𝒐𝒏 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒐𝒄𝒌 𝒔𝒆𝒂𝒕 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝑭𝒂𝒍𝒔𝒆𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒔𝒂𝒕 𝒃𝒚 𝒉𝒊𝒎, 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒆𝒏: 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒂𝒔 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝑻𝒓𝒖𝒕𝒉 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑮𝒐𝒅. 𝑰𝒏𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒎 𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒔 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒏 𝒘𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑬𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒓❜𝒔 𝒍𝒆𝒈𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒆, 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒔𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒎𝒆; 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒅 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒔𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅, 𝑳𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒔𝒂𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒈𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒎𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒆. 𝑰𝒏 𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒉 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒇𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒘𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇-𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒂𝒍𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒘𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒑𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒇 𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕: 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒏𝒐 𝒂𝒍𝒕𝒂𝒓 𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝑳𝒊𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒚; 𝑻𝒓𝒖𝒆 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒅𝒐𝒎 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂𝒃𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏: 𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒐𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒃𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒏; 𝑬𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒑 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝒅𝒊𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒏𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝑳𝒂𝒘. 𝑨 𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒔 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒃𝒃𝒆𝒅 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒂𝒍 𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝑶𝒓 𝒂 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒑𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝑨 𝒕𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒉 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏❜𝒔 𝒔𝒂𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒅𝒆. 𝑨 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒍 𝒑𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒓𝒐𝒏-𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒅 𝑮𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒂 𝒓𝒖𝒅𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒓 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒏 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒗𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒉 𝑨 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒅 𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒏 𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒔𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒔𝒉 𝒏𝒐𝒃𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚, 𝑨 𝒄𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒄 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒊𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒅𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆. 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒆: 𝑷𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝑻𝒓𝒖𝒕𝒉 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑹𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, 𝑨𝒏 𝒆𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒆 𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒄𝒍𝒂𝒘𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅, 𝑩𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒔 𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒓 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒚. 𝑰𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒔 𝑵𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒂 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝑮𝒐𝒅. 𝑰𝒏𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒄𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒃𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔, 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒅𝒊𝒅 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒖𝒕𝒆; 𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒖𝒑𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘❜𝒔 𝒗𝒊𝒄𝒆, 𝑨𝒏 𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒈𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒇𝒍𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒅, 𝒂 𝒗𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒖𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒘𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒉; 𝑶𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒑-𝒉𝒊𝒅 𝒐𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆, 𝑴𝒐𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒂 𝒏𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒔𝒊𝒏. 𝑨 𝒑𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝒋𝒖𝒅𝒈𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒔𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒔, 𝑷𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒏 𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒕𝒚❜𝒔 𝒃𝒂𝒔𝒆, 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕, 𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝑶𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒆𝒈𝒐❜𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒆. 𝑻𝒉𝒖𝒔 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒌𝒆𝒑𝒕, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆. 𝑨 𝒛𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒓𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒕𝒔, 𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓𝒔 𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒚; 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒅, 𝒄𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒅, 𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒅, 𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒆 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒄𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒍 𝒕𝒐 𝒂𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒐𝒏 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒅𝒊𝒆. 𝑨𝒎𝒊𝒅 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒄𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒅𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒔 𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒔𝒂𝒕 𝒖𝒑𝒐𝒏 𝒂 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅-𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒆. 𝑨 𝒉𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒚𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒘 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒖𝒑𝒐𝒏 𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒖𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒄𝒆. 𝑶𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒅 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒛𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆: 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒄𝒚𝒏𝒊𝒄 𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒊𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒆❜𝒔 𝒃𝒖𝒕𝒕; 𝑯𝒐𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒅, 𝒎𝒐𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒆𝒏𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒔, 𝑺𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒖𝒂𝒍 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒄𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅,— 𝑨 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓❜𝒔 𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇-𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒆𝒃 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝑶𝒓 𝒎𝒂𝒅 𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒆𝒓𝒂 𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒓 𝒉𝒚𝒑𝒐𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆❜𝒔 𝒇𝒂𝒌𝒆, 𝑰𝒕𝒔 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒕 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒐𝒃𝒔𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒊𝒓𝒄𝒖𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑰𝒈𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆. 𝑨 𝒍𝒊𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒕𝒉 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒆. 𝑯𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒖𝒑𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝑾𝒂𝒚— 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑯𝒆𝒍𝒍❜𝒔 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒅𝒐𝒎𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒆— 𝑷𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒔 𝒔𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒆, 𝑨 𝒑𝒓𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒓 𝒖𝒑𝒐𝒏 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒑𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕 𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒆. 𝑰𝒇 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒅 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕❜𝒔 𝒌𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒓-𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒕, 𝑯𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒚❜𝒔 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒏𝒆𝒕. 𝑶𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝑳𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒔 𝒐𝒏 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒌 𝒂𝒏 𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒎𝒚❜𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉; 𝑬𝒍𝒔𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒖𝒑 𝒃𝒆𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝑴𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒑𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒖𝒏𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒐𝒊𝒍, 𝑷𝒊𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒃𝒚 𝑬𝒗𝒊𝒍❜𝒔 𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒈𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆. 𝑺𝒐 𝒎𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑬𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒍❜𝒔 𝒓𝒐𝒂𝒅 𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒇𝒆𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒕❜𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝑻𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒏𝒐 𝒏𝒆𝒘𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒈𝒐𝒅𝒔, 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒆𝒅 ❞𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈❞ 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒈𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒔, 𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒙 𝒐𝒇 𝒂 𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆, 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝒂 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓. 𝑶𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒇𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒌𝒆𝒑𝒕 𝑮𝒐𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔: 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒓, 𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒔𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒍𝒌, 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒎𝒊𝒕𝒆, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒚𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒕, 𝑪𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂 𝒋𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏 𝒓𝒆𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒕, 𝑯𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝑳𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕. 𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒍𝒚 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒐, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒍𝒚 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕, 𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒂 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒎𝒆𝒓 𝒑𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒊𝒓, 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒕 𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆. 𝑶𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒎𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒔𝒖𝒏. 𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝑯𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒄𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒅 𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒆, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒑𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓. 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝑵𝒐-𝒎𝒂𝒏❜𝒔-𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒅𝒆𝒃𝒂𝒕𝒆; 𝑯𝒊𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒅, 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑨𝒃𝒚𝒔𝒔 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅: 𝑵𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒂𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒔 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒂𝒚, 𝒏𝒐 𝒗𝒐𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒃𝒂𝒅𝒆. 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒘𝒊𝒇𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒚 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒉, 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒐𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑵𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆.
via YouTube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8oHTNB_QWkI

Comments