The moon fails to shine down on either day or night,
And the night bird calls out in sadness.
When I turn to look,
The flowers had all fallen away.
It was as if all comfort
Had vanished from the world.
As the gods leave to gather in the new world,
Day breaks,
And the night bird calls out.
The blossoms
Beseech the gods.
"Even though in this world
We may know grief and suffering,"
"Our dreams shall never die,"
And they fall from the branch in anger.