To you, in two thousand
Or twenty thousand years
Without knowing the name of the mourning flower…
After the bird that flew away…
Grasses and trees sprout…
Spring comes again this year…
Leaving winter behind…
In the turning seasons…
Despite singing resentful songs…
You will never return…
The final kiss…
Stained in crimson was mine…
And no one else’s…
The warmth enveloping my trembling neck…
I will face this cold
Over and over again…
“Fight!” and “Fight!”…
Repeating…
Your words from that day…
Still constantly echoing…
The calm days that time brought…
Like flowers offered…
The hidden words…
Go untold to anyone…
Requiem, requiem
In the coffin, the flowers you loved
If you forgive the sins, let the dawn shine
The world, the sword of
The young one has broken
Will reach the top of
The skyscraper
And look down laughing at
The Tower of Babel
Hate and worry are a
Double-edged plane
History repeats itself
“Be fruitful and multiply,” the earth is full
The steel bird is released into the sky
Freedom becomes a bow and arrow of crimson
Repeated many times
Unable to throw away the thrown stone
The timid “us” who
Looked up at the sky
A bow and arrow of Hades resembling a meteor
History repeats itself
And it becomes “zero” again
Can you hear it? Come out of the forest…
No matter how many times you get lost on the path
Even in the burnt field, grass and trees sprout
The shadows and lights civilization possesses
Seen by the great tree’s hollow
What do you understand?
Two thousand years… or perhaps…
To you, after twenty thousand years…
