Where there is light, the shadow is all the more a transient illusion.
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The laws of this present world are thus so fleeting.
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To the butterfly that has fallen into a nightmare, fluttering and scattering.
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Even if I reach out softly, it just disappears and drifts away.
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The lamp's melody[sweetly], played like a flower[far away].
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If you seek refinement, the moon.
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Gently hold fast to the warmth that will not return, and embrace it toward the evening light.
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Soar high, bound to the heir's crest.
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The heart I wish to guard, to the very depths of memory's abyss.
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Dance and whirl, blooming with pride; this light that called us to one another.
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Again and again, it shines anew-the vow's blossom drifting in the crimson lotus.
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Softly, the figure is reflected in the rippling water.
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Even if I finally reach out, it just vanishes and drifts away.
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Words overflow[softly], swaying to the rain's sound[deeply].
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Look up, and the stars appear.
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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.
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I want to shed both the pain and the sadness buried in memory.
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Dance and drum; this heartbeat returning from the land of the dead.
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For ages, it repeats again-the flower of fate, drifting in the crimson lotus.
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Dyeing the color of untainted eyes.
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Though they vanish in a fleeting moment, they still soothe the heart.
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Guiding in the moonlit night is the floral crest.
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To the edge of time, the crimson dream invites us to dance.
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Even if that soul is formless...
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Soar high, pledged to the heir's crest.
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The heart I wish to guard, to the very depths of memory's abyss.
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Dance and whirl, blooming in pride; this light we called to one another.
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And once more, it shall shine anew.
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The vow's flower, drifting in the crimson lotus.
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The delicate flower of fate draws near.
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