How wonderful! To die in violence, the storm’s height,
like a flower just open. Praise the flowing blood! Praise death,
praise the enemy who leaves you to vultures and the dust.

What perfection! For the warrior, Pure in spirit,
swords and arrows are an offering. For other men,
the storm passes over, and the petals of the flowers fall:

but for you, Purity has made you nothing –
for you, there is nothing, beyond the vultures and the dust.

— ZirCong poem, inscribed upon a painted fan,
from the Dark Season Era