Glory, Deferred, But Undimmed

Keep this book with you at all the times of life. The thinkings of Shining Eternal General-President Gerjalda Kazarimov will be as guides, moments of momentous inspiration. Perhaps two of your goats are poorly. Maybe your sister lacks for motivation at the aluminium works, or your mother has once again failed to win the Puzhkavian Golden Spheres Lotto. Life in our great nation is always a struggle, but a struggle embraced leads to the happy swaddling of knowledge. And this book, the Sutranamara, is brimful of learnings, ones that support and guide, lean in and whisper with confident insistence.

My people! Take down the bit from your horse’s mouth! For otherwise how will your horse speak and impart wisdom? Hold your ride close, always. Our ancestors birthed us as the proud horse-riding nomads of the Puzhkavian plains and that destiny must be embraced once more. But the ride will be wilder, and like them we must throw off the yokes of bridle, bit and saddle. The nation demands it, as we work harder than ever, particularly at the Samsung-PuzhkaviaTel joint-venture mines and at the site of the Kazarimov Palace of the People’s Victory in Abrûlz.

It is said that when a poem is beautiful it is true. But do not the philosophers also say that when a poem is penned by your humble leader, it will contain calls to greatness? In every poem therefore lies the light of direction. I have also written a complete list of the things that you should do in boldface on the inside cover of this edition, just to be clear. Freedom and action – petals that coexist within the flower of duty.

April is my name! For in glorious spring, the blossoms are fulsome, like red-cheeked warriors at last returned from distant yet glorious battle-making. April will herald a redoubling of nerve. Every child of reading age will sing a happy song, from the texts that are newly printed and rushed to every school. Hope is in the air. The weapons inspectors have likely left. April is now to be called Gerjalda.

Though our new Mausoleum of the Eternal Presidency is topped with a 400-metre gold chturetta, you shouldn’t focus on its dazzling colour (which can be espied as far away as the iridium mines of Dursk or the aluminium smeltworks of Nankangaz). No, the material’s colour matters not compared to where it points. Wisdom accrued, not from above, but in the body of myself, your Eternal President. And with my cousin Dzokhva, People’s Secretary for the Propagation of Civic Dreams, together we have wrought this tribute to what might be achieved in life and in death. Stare not at the base but the point, to gain daily focus and guidance.

Intention and expression, let them be like the twin pillars supporting the expensive gold roof atop the house of your leaders. As intention brings order, so expression frees love. And what love is greater than that for the mother of our Eternal President, Her Holiness Magazda Volnykovka? How her beautiful eyes gaze down watchfully on the children of our nation, from above every mantelpiece, and in the official hand-embroidered picture that is available in our capital city’s many gift shops.

That smile, whose magical combination of a nurse’s care and a soldier’s steel inspires every child that tarries below it. How it mirrors the very shape of our border with Ruvniyistan, in its drama, determination and contention. The humble violence of steadfastness; let it be yours – like the incursions of tempestuous lovers, when we discover our faces afresh. And we read in her face a simple and earnest determination that you shall surely do as you must.

Your humble leader has fought in all the wars, including the ones you’ve pictured only in dreams. The ones between your wife and her neighbour with the coveted headscarf, its embroidered scenes of horse dancing that set tongues a-wagging. The battle will rage and I will lead, always taking my people to victory. We will switch direction when our opponents think they have won, being of full voice in the barren valleys as well as in the biting winds of the bare and epic plains. It’s all I can – and everything I will – do.

Do not fear the mountain as you labour upon its treacherous pathways, or clear its gnarled forests. Mount Kíszkan was named for its benevolent eye o’er the nation. Yes, the fatal pathways of its north-facing ascent form stories the children love and the closely guarded military-industrial facilities near its peak shall not be spoken of here. But my fellow Pushkavianari! Soon we shall together complete the Olympic-standard ski resort and associated retail facilities that will set this great nation on a collision course with the respect and success we deserve. Your many sacrifices are already medals upon my heart.

I am Wolf! Protecting my pack is my very nature, core to my being. My being President perpetual, I must bite into enemies, scent coming difficulties on the breeze and attend many foreign summits. Like my wolf brothers I stand firm, and bay at the moon and the stars in leadership, until they hear and respect our voices, our demands. With you, my pack, at my side, our future is whatever I imagine, our beliefs in me are strong, your direction is clear and true. Onward!