The moon shines, yellow, bright.  The birds flies, crying in anguish. Scarecrows standing tall. Our subject, with shoes of lead, walks towards a foreseen target. Innocent and pure, his struggle is just.

The path goes over the steppes of sorrow…

As written by the 16th-century scholar Tän Anghér in his last work: “Lord Krïm, Wanderer, Seeker”.