The flower that opens in order to go scattering
The color that reflects ephemeral meanings
Without that which to
be frightened of in the passing seasons
While being beaten down by the chilly rain
Conceiving the time when it will bloom vividly
Before laughing and scattering,
struggling and surviving
The moon's shape changes, truth buds
The light that overflows in the chest
The insignificant flower, for what reason,
Spreads both hands, looks up to the sky.
With Pain, even bitterness,
and resolution, it blooms.
The moon's shape changes, reality is fragrant
The light that flares strongly
The moon's shape changes, truth buds
The light that overflows in the chest
The moon's shape changes, reality is fragrant
The light that flares strongly