A flower that blooms in the dark night
A flower without petals
The mind is not here
Dozing off a calm look in the empty face
A girl becomes a puppet telling nothing
Again and again
The old age appears in the evening
And the birth in the morning
No standing tree nor even earth
Only rocks strewn all around
Desperate poverty lies endlessly
A small wish for the people
Is pilgrimage for the monthly miracle
Deception, floral tribute
Put it in hеr hand
Surrounded by the Kannon Bodhisattva
Shigan, the world full of suffеring
Higan, the ideal pure land
Fabricated world
Deceitful, arrogant, nothing but lies
Filth desire never ends
The wicked pure land
Avici and Raurava, screaming for the helping hand
Avici and Raurava, screaming from the burning hell
Unknown to anyone
Become a pitiful corpse
Without even a name
Bring forth a child
Concealed silently inside the body
Everyday birth and death repeat
People revere old age as something unusual
“smell this flower" father says
The scent is sweet, strong, and beloved
Not even remembering what happened yesterday
A girl here is a beast in human shape
A scowl of resentment
A brandished hoe
“sweet smell?" says father smeared with blood
The Bodhisattva is not here anymore
Estranged from everyone
Painful loneliness remains
Sniffing the flower dyed in dark red
Even if you grief, it’s infinite
The morning that drifts is everlasting
Goes on and on
Crying for yesterday, when they swarmed
Ever since your birth
Reincarnation in the cycle of life and death
...I can keep on living...
In the world of insanity
Like flowers blooming scattered about
Without even a name
Crawling along the gloomy ground