Tradine Oru, a newly rediscovered onzine by the Poldevian prince, poet, traveler and ambassador to the court of Zahiruddin Muhammad Babur, Estaurate Peresç, was composed, based on internal evidence, during the ultimately vain attempt by the Timurid emperor to retake Samarkand in 1511-12. Far from the erotorodomundane pleasures of his Kabul palace, one imagines the wily ruler from the east, Prince of Fergana, Emperor of Transoxiana, after a grueling, harrowing, dusty, sweaty, bloody day of aetio-equine battle, taking, in the cool comfort of his yurt, much less labyrinthine pleasure in a simple game, oiled with arrack, of cards with his friend and benefactor from the west, the Poldevian prince, Estaurate Peresç. (Let us remember that the compassionate poet-warrior forbade his soldiers from engaging in the rape, pillage and looting that has been the man-at-arms' larder, breadbasket and petty consolation since time immemorial; he paid his loyal legions cold, gold cash, a great deal of which came directly from the Kingdom of Poldevia's prodigal son's own profligate pocket. In addition, Poldevia provided, through the urging of the Prince, the artillery which greatly aided its Timurid ally's victory over the forces of Sultan Ibrahim Lodi at the Battle of Panipat, and hence instaurated the Mughal empire as history knows it today.) No game, however, however innocently pleasant it may be, is ever free of intrigue, as the treacherous king of hearts who's gone missing with his traitor's gold verily proves. Exhiliratedly exhausted by battle and play, arrack-elated and brain-a-buzz with heterolexicality, Peresç returned to his own yurt and, mixing, by the unfaithful light of an oil lamp, his inks and his inspiration, his paints and his parole (Persian, Poldevian, Turkic, Ityalian), before retiring for the night, he still had energy enough to recount, with a lyrical yazdehanity that shivers like an arrow shot from his age to ours, the day's quenellian tally, the night's ludict encounter with a Central Asian sovereign. One of us (B.V.) chanced upon the treasured parchment when it dropped from between the leaves of a dusty tome he (B.V.) happened to notice was innappriately shelved in the Institute's (ISOCPHYS) stacks and it (author, title, publisher forgotten) slipped from his grasp in his effort to save some poor future researcher both futility and frustration. Over an appropriate arrack-substitute (hard to come by in Owlstain), he (B.V.) invited his most qualified OFF colleague (K.D.) and one of Our Resident Lectuers (D.I.S.) to join him on his porch for a recreative bout of heteroloxical situationality (B.V.) in the lexical ecology of translexification (K.D.) and translexicization (D.I.S). B.V. is on top, K.D. is in the middle, D.I.S. is on bottom.