Where there is light, the shadow is all the more a transient illusion.
The laws of this present world are thus so fleeting.
To the butterfly that has fallen into a nightmare, fluttering and scattering.
Even if I reach out softly, it just disappears and drifts away.
The lamp's melody[sweetly], played like a flower[far away].
If you seek refinement, the moon.
Gently hold fast to the warmth that will not return, and embrace it toward the evening light.
Soar high, bound to the heir's crest.
The heart I wish to guard, to the very depths of memory's abyss.
Dance and whirl, blooming with pride; this light that called us to one another.
Again and again, it shines anew-the vow's blossom drifting in the crimson lotus.
Softly, the figure is reflected in the rippling water.
Even if I finally reach out, it just vanishes and drifts away.
Words overflow[softly], swaying to the rain's sound[deeply].
Look up, and the stars appear.
Embracing my unfulfilled wishes, without a trace, seeking proof that I lived.
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Soar high, cast aside the doubts of days gone by.
I want to shed both the pain and the sadness buried in memory.
Dance and drum; this heartbeat returning from the land of the dead.
For ages, it repeats again-the flower of fate, drifting in the crimson lotus.
What is true strength?
Dyeing the color of untainted eyes.
Though they vanish in a fleeting moment, they still soothe the heart.
Guiding in the moonlit night is the floral crest.
To the edge of time, the crimson dream invites us to dance.
Even if that soul is formless...
Soar high, pledged to the heir's crest.
The heart I wish to guard, to the very depths of memory's abyss.
Dance and whirl, blooming in pride; this light we called to one another.
And once more, it shall shine anew.
The vow's flower, drifting in the crimson lotus.
The delicate flower of fate draws near.