The Pontic Muse enchants me, moves me, inspires me. Nothing can distract me from my experiences. In the temple of the Muse of my ancestors, I practice asceticism out of spiritual need.

Living bearers of the Pontic Muse – elders and old women – have been telling me, for years, glories and grandeur, misfortunes and adventures of their uprooted generation. They sing joys and sorrows in the same majestic way.

This is why the stories of the ancestors and the proclamations of their Muse forbid them to neglect the Duty to Tradition.