Just what are the words I’ve piled up meant to protect?
I’d be satisfied with them merely making me stronger; I don’t need an answer any more.
But if it were really nothing more,
Than something to cause me pain, it would be so sad;
Nonetheless, I’m still looking up to the sky.
Like the moon’s shadow when it has nowhere left to run, or a headwind increasing in strength,
An unknown thing obtained, in an unknown place, made an audible noise before vanishing.
That’s right: in the corners of the world, prayers and oaths exercise no meaning,
Forgetting where they belong only to walk on endlessly.
Just who is the blade we hold aloft meant to protect?
I’d be satisfied with it merely making me stronger; I don’t need an answer any more.
But even if it was really nothing more,
Than something to cause me pain, I wouldn’t mind;
I’m still looking up to the sky.
Everything that reflects in my eyes is full of pain, even the scenery I see lying face down,
As the entirety of some unknown person’s desires gets carried away by the wind.
That’s right: just by the world spinning ’round, any hopes still left will exercise no meaning,
Leaving all who sought them to walk on endlessly.
Just what are the words I’ve piled up meant to protect?
If I can face my weaknesses, I’ll no longer have need for tears.
But if these days are to consist of nothing more,
Than repeating, “Farewell!”, “Farewell!”, it would be so sad;
Nonetheless, I’m still looking up to the sky.
Even now, I’m still searching for the stars.
The travelers who sought after the dawn,
Are a pale sun shining at midnight,
Walking on and on,
Until all the pain exchanged to and fro converts to heat.
Just what are the words I’ve piled up meant to protect?
I’d be satisfied with them merely making me stronger; I don’t need an answer any more.
Just who is the blade we hold aloft meant to protect?
If I can face my weaknesses, I’ll no longer have need for tears.
Even if the only real purpose for this heart,
Is to be wounded, I wouldn’t mind;
I’m still looking up to the sky.