This is what happened
The baby’s first cry was in a deep forest that no one knows,
Like anger that just purely resembled thunder,
It begins, destiny
The wind inquires, “where are you going?” with resounding sarcasm;
The youth still hadn’t chosen a path in those sound days.
He decides on something, and he nearly drowns in the act,
And thus, his awakened self and his gentle self are separated.
The sun, the sun, I pray.
White flame, even in this brief summer, the sound of footsteps draw nearer.
Loneliness, the trees whisper “why?”, searching for a reason.
“The time when I still didn’t have anything, the time when I still hadn’t become anything;
This pure desire that’s worthy of being called a "dream;”
This innocent, childlike cheerfulness… surely I knew it at that time.
… Didn’t I?
Remembering that time is like an embarrassment, and I let out a loud yell, as if trying to deny it
And yet, the bittersweet regret still spreads.
That is because I haven’t lost just yet, I’m preserving this mysterious radiance.
While I may feel disgust that’s close to hatred,
It’s for this reason that I’m searching for salvation somewhere in this farcicality.
Forever haunted by this foolishness
Today, too, I’ll set traps, as proof of my immaturity.
If I just simply blame it all on youth,
Will the tranquility of this heart be somewhat restored, I wonder?
The affirmation of maturity of having walked on one’s own path,
Will it someday visit this body as well, I wonder?
Even now, I still don’t understand anything….“
"No matter what the event, there is always an end,” as if it’s that obvious,*
So I turn my back to the gray sky sinking into the scenery.
There is no reason to blame tomorrow if I grow weary of searching;
Time goes on, and soon the harvest will overflow from these hands.
The sun, the sun, I pray.
White flame, I take in all of this frozen snowfield.
Loneliness, once more, this snow-like silver heart is going to close.
“In the season when life falls into a slumber, we endure a long, long loneliness.
If I listen closely to the frozen existence under the snow,
I begin to imagine that there’s some sort of sign of life somewhere.
Is that the way to master withstanding the duration of all those years?
Is there really any meaning in playing alone? It’s not like that’s really much of a problem.
We’ve accepted the fate thrust at us a long time ago.
I just wear a perplexed expression, as if I were conspiring.
My true self is disguised, my grief is locked up… someday that’s going to become the truth.
Even if I have no interest in the abyss of life, my heart still keeps this gloomy despair,
Because I have no choice but to find my own answer.
Ah… it’s cold….
The sun begins to set, burning my eyelids
And giving the feeling that twilight is approaching just a little too quickly.”
More than eternity, until those faraway days are stained in darkness,
I count down the lonely mornings as the wind begins to rage
Without fearing the destruction.
Love, dream,overflowing light spills out of the forest of recollection.
Adorn the departing traveler with the tribute of a flower of hope.
Love, dream, if you grow used to hearing the lamentations of past illusions,
Is there a modest resistance in the petals that you tightly grasped?
The sun, the sun, I pray.
White flame, grief roams in this frozen snowfield,
Loneliness, concealing this closed, snow-like silver heart.
Destiny, this beautiful, quiet sanctuary,
Destiny,where anything and everything
Is completely shrouded in white flames.
The baby’s first cry was in a deep forest that no one knows,
Like anger that just purely resembled thunder,
It begins, destiny
The wind inquires, “where are you going?” with resounding sarcasm;
The youth still hadn’t chosen a path in those sound days.
He decides on something, and he nearly drowns in the act,
And thus, his awakened self and his gentle self are separated.
The sun, the sun, I pray.
White flame, even in this brief summer, the sound of footsteps draw nearer.
Loneliness, the trees whisper “why?”, searching for a reason.
“The time when I still didn’t have anything, the time when I still hadn’t become anything;
This pure desire that’s worthy of being called a "dream;”
This innocent, childlike cheerfulness… surely I knew it at that time.
… Didn’t I?
Remembering that time is like an embarrassment, and I let out a loud yell, as if trying to deny it
And yet, the bittersweet regret still spreads.
While I may feel disgust that’s close to hatred,
It’s for this reason that I’m searching for salvation somewhere in this farcicality.
Forever haunted by this foolishness
Today, too, I’ll set traps, as proof of my immaturity.
If I just simply blame it all on youth,
Will the tranquility of this heart be somewhat restored, I wonder?
The affirmation of maturity of having walked on one’s own path,
Will it someday visit this body as well, I wonder?
Even now, I still don’t understand anything….“
"No matter what the event, there is always an end,” as if it’s that obvious,*
So I turn my back to the gray sky sinking into the scenery.
There is no reason to blame tomorrow if I grow weary of searching;
Time goes on, and soon the harvest will overflow from these hands.
The sun, the sun, I pray.
White flame, I take in all of this frozen snowfield.
“In the season when life falls into a slumber, we endure a long, long loneliness.
If I listen closely to the frozen existence under the snow,
I begin to imagine that there’s some sort of sign of life somewhere.
Is that the way to master withstanding the duration of all those years?
Is there really any meaning in playing alone? It’s not like that’s really much of a problem.
We’ve accepted the fate thrust at us a long time ago.
I just wear a perplexed expression, as if I were conspiring.
My true self is disguised, my grief is locked up… someday that’s going to become the truth.
Even if I have no interest in the abyss of life, my heart still keeps this gloomy despair,
Because I have no choice but to find my own answer.
The sun begins to set, burning my eyelids
And giving the feeling that twilight is approaching just a little too quickly.”
More than eternity, until those faraway days are stained in darkness,
I count down the lonely mornings as the wind begins to rage
Without fearing the destruction.
Love, dream,overflowing light spills out of the forest of recollection.
Adorn the departing traveler with the tribute of a flower of hope.
Love, dream, if you grow used to hearing the lamentations of past illusions,
Is there a modest resistance in the petals that you tightly grasped?
The sun, the sun, I pray.
White flame, grief roams in this frozen snowfield,
Loneliness, concealing this closed, snow-like silver heart.
Destiny, this beautiful, quiet sanctuary,
Destiny,where anything and everything
Is completely shrouded in white flames.