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Soon the head torn off is raised on a long pole into the heights,
A sign of the enemy bravely conquered.
Behold, for you, Murathe Murad III, the desecrated rewards of the right hand.
Then many evils come upon your head, and you die
By furies, and by Diana the Moon, an Ottoman symbol raging.
Victim, thus you fall, owed to the CRECVICIAN a Latinized reference to the site of the clash shades.
Soon that son of yours, whom you left as master in the kingdom and in war,
The head and inventor of crimes,
Sent the offerings of the slaughtered brothers to you in his funeral
At the first entrance of the kingdom. Because indeed, perjuries
Pleased the Machanian Ottoman/Turkish people first, from Baia Sethe Bayezid
The brother of the Amuratidian Murad-descended CELEBI a Turkish honorific, in order thereafter
And they stain the beginnings of the kingdom with blood, and they appease
The cruel shades. But you, nevertheless, surpass the rest.
For yours added mothers, and with a dire omen
Into crime, and at the same time he succeeded to the ancestral kingdom.
But that punishment did not seem enough for the perjuries.
Violated faith overturns wealth, and constricts kingdoms.
How many turbans of satraps does the court desire?
Hassan, and Ferratus, and those whom you would scarcely name
By the evidence of barbarian genius. But indeed, the hard
Nemesis also calls you, SINAS Sinan Pasha. Neither your gifts, nor
Does the deceit in your spirits liberate you. The Styx must be swum by you,
And just burial must be paid by the merit of the Grecuician Ottoman-Greek/Turkish.
Thus, Murathes, your troops pay the penalty.
What losses, miserable one, did you send to the late descendants?
By how much blood of Bashas and kings has it been appeased?
Perhaps this fame also comes to you under the lowest shades,
That the son of Murathe, with a vast accompanying force of men,
Fled shamefully, terrified by the opposing enemies,
And if the fates of God, if the averted mind had not been,
And if the traitor had not recalled the fugitives to arms,