𝙳𝚎𝚜𝚍𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚘 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚊, 𝚕𝚘𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚘 𝚖𝚒 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚐𝚒𝚘. 𝙼𝚒 𝚗𝚘𝚖𝚋𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚜 𝚉𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚢 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚒́ 𝚎𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚗̃𝚊 𝚌𝚒𝚞𝚍𝚊𝚍 𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚗̃𝚊𝚜 𝚢 𝚛𝚒́𝚘𝚜 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚊 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚊𝚜, 𝚅𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚣𝚞𝚎𝚕𝚊. 𝙼𝚒 𝚑𝚘𝚐𝚊𝚛 𝚎𝚛𝚊 𝚞𝚗𝚊 𝚖𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚊 𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚙𝚒𝚘 𝚍𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚓𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚎 𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚌, 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗 𝚎𝚕 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚘 𝚍𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚜 𝚊𝚗̃𝚘𝚜 𝚖𝚒 𝚙𝚊𝚙𝚊́ 𝚕𝚊 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚘́ 𝚜𝚘́𝚕𝚒𝚍𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚘… 𝙲𝚘𝚗 𝚞𝚗 𝚓𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚒́𝚗 𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚘 𝚍𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚖𝚒 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚞𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚋𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚗 𝚎𝚜𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚘. 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚘 𝚕𝚘 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚖𝚊́𝚜 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚋𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚗𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚊 𝚎𝚛𝚊 𝚕𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚗̃𝚊 𝚋𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚖𝚒 𝚙𝚊𝚍𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚒́𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚒𝚍𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚜.

𝙻𝚊 𝚋𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚊 𝚎𝚛𝚊 𝚞𝚗 𝚕𝚞𝚐𝚊𝚛 𝚖𝚊́𝚐𝚒𝚌𝚘. 𝙻𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚜 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚞𝚋𝚒𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚎 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒́𝚊𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚜 𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚘𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚜 𝚝𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚗̃𝚘𝚜 𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚜. 𝙴𝚕 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚊 𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚕 𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚓𝚘 𝚢 𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚊 𝚖𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚒́𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚟𝚎𝚣 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚊, 𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒́𝚊 𝚞𝚗𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚣 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎. 𝙴𝚛𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚘 𝚜𝚒 𝚌𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚋𝚛𝚘 𝚝𝚞𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚛𝚊 𝚞𝚗𝚊 𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚎, 𝚞𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚘 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚎.

𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚞𝚎𝚛𝚍𝚘 𝚕𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚊 𝚟𝚎𝚣 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚋𝚛𝚒́ “𝙲𝚒𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚗̃𝚘𝚜 𝚍𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚍𝚊𝚍” 𝚍𝚎 𝙶𝚊𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚕 𝙶𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚒́𝚊 𝙼𝚊́𝚛𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚣. 𝚃𝚎𝚗𝚒́𝚊 𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗̃𝚘𝚜, 𝚢 𝚊𝚞𝚗𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒́𝚊 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚘 𝚕𝚘 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚒́𝚊, 𝚕𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚊𝚗 𝚊 𝚞𝚗 𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚘 𝚍𝚎 𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖𝚘 𝚖𝚊́𝚐𝚒𝚌𝚘. 𝚂𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒́𝚊 𝚞𝚗𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚣𝚌𝚕𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚋𝚛𝚘 𝚢 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚍, 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚘 𝚜𝚒 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚛𝚊 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚞𝚗 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚘.

𝙼𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚢𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚗 𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚒 𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚛 𝚙𝚘𝚛 𝚕𝚊 𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚊. 𝙼𝚒 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚛𝚎, 𝚞𝚗𝚊 𝚖𝚞𝚓𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚊́𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚞𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚎 𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚘́𝚗 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚘 (𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚊), 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚒́𝚊 𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚞𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚍𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚛. 𝙼𝚒 𝚙𝚊𝚍𝚛𝚎, 𝚞𝚗 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚋𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚘 𝚢 𝚜𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚘, 𝚖𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚗̃𝚘́ 𝚊 𝚌𝚞𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚘 𝚜𝚒 𝚏𝚞𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚘𝚜. —𝚄𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚋𝚛𝚘 𝚎𝚜 𝚞𝚗 𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚕, -𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚒́𝚊 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚛𝚖𝚎-.

𝙰 𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚒́𝚊, 𝚕𝚘𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚜 𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚗 𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚒 𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚎, 𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚒́𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚜. 𝙴𝚗 𝚕𝚊 𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚊, 𝚌𝚞𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚕𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚜 𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚜 𝚖𝚒𝚎𝚍𝚘𝚜 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚛𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚋𝚊𝚗, 𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚎𝚕𝚘 𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚊́𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚜. 𝙼𝚎 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚋𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚓𝚎𝚜, 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒́𝚊 𝚜𝚞𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚒́𝚊𝚜 𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚘 𝚜𝚒 𝚏𝚞𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚗 𝚖𝚒́𝚘𝚜. 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚞𝚎𝚛𝚍𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚘 𝚊𝚕 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚍𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚒́𝚍𝚘 𝙻𝚊𝚗𝚣𝚊𝚜 𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚎 𝙰𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚘 𝚄𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝙿𝚒𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚒. 𝙻𝚊 𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚊 𝚖𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚝𝚒́𝚊 𝚟𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚛 𝚖𝚒𝚕 𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚜, 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚛 𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚊𝚜 𝚢 𝚊𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚌𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚟𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚘𝚜𝚊𝚜.

𝚄𝚗 𝚍𝚒́𝚊, 𝚖𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚜 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚊 𝚞𝚗𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚛𝚒́𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚐𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚘, 𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚎́ 𝚞𝚗 𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚓𝚘 𝚎𝚓𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚍𝚎 “𝙴𝚕 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚘”. 𝙴𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚊 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚐𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚍𝚘 𝚢 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚒́𝚊 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚜 𝚖𝚊́𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚜, 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚘 𝚊𝚕𝚐𝚘 𝚎𝚗 𝚎́𝚕 𝚖𝚎 𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚖𝚘́ 𝚕𝚊 𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚘́𝚗. 𝙻𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚛𝚎́ 𝚢, 𝚊𝚕 𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚛 𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚊, 𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚒́ 𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚜 𝚙𝚊́𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚜. 𝙻𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚎 𝙰𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚍𝚎 𝚂𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝-𝙴𝚡𝚞𝚙𝚎́𝚛𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚗 𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚒 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚘́𝚗 𝚍𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚗𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚊 𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚒́𝚊 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚍𝚘. 𝚂𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒́ 𝚞𝚗𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚒𝚘́𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚗 𝚎𝚕 𝚙𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚗̃𝚘 𝚙𝚛𝚒́𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚙𝚎 𝚢 𝚜𝚞 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚘́𝚗 𝚍𝚎𝚕 𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚘.

𝙴𝚜𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚋𝚛𝚘 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚒𝚘́ 𝚖𝚒 𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚊. 𝙼𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚣𝚘 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚞𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚛𝚒́𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚛 𝚖𝚒 𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚛 𝚙𝚘𝚛 𝚕𝚊 𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚊́𝚜. 𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚒́ 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚖𝚎 𝚎𝚗 𝚋𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚘 𝙰 𝚕𝚘𝚜 𝟷𝟼 𝚊𝚗̃𝚘𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚋𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚗 𝚕𝚊 𝚂𝚛𝚊. 𝙻𝚞𝚒𝚜𝚊 𝙼𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚘, 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚜 𝚍𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚘́𝚗 𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚊 𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚊 𝙱𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚜𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚊 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚘 𝚔𝚒𝚕𝚘́𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚘 𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚒 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚊.

𝙲𝚘𝚗 𝚕𝚊 𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚜 𝚢 𝚎𝚕 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚝, 𝚕𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚣𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚞 𝚟𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚛. 𝙻𝚘 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚎𝚛𝚊 𝚞𝚗 𝚕𝚞𝚐𝚊𝚛 𝚍𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚞𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘 𝚢 𝚊𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚣𝚊𝚓𝚎, 𝚊𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚊 𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚊 𝚞𝚗 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚕 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚊𝚍𝚘. 𝙻𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚒́𝚊𝚗 𝚕𝚊 𝚒𝚗𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚣 𝚍𝚎 𝚕𝚊 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚘́𝚗 𝚍𝚒𝚐𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚕. 𝚃𝚘𝚍𝚘 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚘́ 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚜 𝚙𝚞𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚜. 𝚂𝚒𝚗 𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚘, 𝚢𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚐𝚞𝚒́𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚞𝚗 𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚞𝚘 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎 𝚍𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚜 𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚛𝚒́𝚊𝚜 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚗 𝚎𝚗 𝚎𝚕 𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚘.

𝙻𝚘𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚜 𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚗̃𝚊𝚍𝚘 𝚊 𝚜𝚘𝚗̃𝚊𝚛, 𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚛 𝚢 𝚊 𝚟𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚍. 𝙼𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚗̃𝚊𝚍𝚘 𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚜 𝚖𝚊́𝚜 𝚘𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚘𝚜 𝚢 𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚍𝚊𝚍𝚘 𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚣𝚊 𝚌𝚞𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚖𝚊́𝚜 𝚕𝚊 𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚊. 𝚈 𝚊𝚜𝚒́, 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚊́𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚜 𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚜, 𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚘 𝚖𝚒 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚘́𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚘 𝚢 𝚖𝚒 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚍. 𝙽𝚊𝚌𝚒́ 𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚊 𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚘́𝚗 𝚍𝚎 𝙻𝚘𝚜 𝙻𝚒𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚜…