もうとっくに　日が落ちて　夕闇を人が行く
もうとっくに　鳥も帰り　静かにまた物語の幕があく

夏の夜の満月を　見上げるように
秋の枯れ葉に　耳を澄ますように
雪降る音を　聞くように

時には　遥か南の海に眠る　幾百万の魂を　弔おう
時には　遥か大地に　森に眠る　幾百万の魂を　弔おう

そして　彼らの物語に　もの言わぬ言葉に　静かに耳を傾けよう

あるいは母のために　あるいは父のために
あるいは天皇のために　あるいは国のために　
あるいは愛する人のために　あるいはこの山河のために

多くの人を殺し　多くの人が殺されたこの物語を
また　誰が演じるというのだ
底知れぬ恐怖と悲しみの物語を
また　誰が演じるというのだ

無声映画のように　もの言わぬ彼らの言葉に　耳を傾け
そして時には　雪の中　小さな鈴を振るように　彼らを弔おう
そして時には　満月を映す海を静かに泳ぐように　彼らを弔おう
そして時には　雨の日　窓打つ音を聞きながら　愛する人を思うように

彼らを弔おう

あるいは母のために　あるいは父のために
あるいは天皇のために　あるいは国のために　
あるいは愛する人のために　あるいはこの山河のために

多くの人を殺し　多くの人が殺されたこの物語を
また　誰が演じるというのだ
底知れぬ恐怖と悲しみの物語を

また　誰が演じるというのだ

もうとっくに　日が落ちて　夕闇を人が行く
もうとっくに　鳥も帰り　静かにまた物語の幕があく


また　物語の幕が開く

-------------------------------------------

Story

Long since,
the sun has gone down,
and people walk through the dusk.

Long since,
the birds have returned,
and quietly,
the curtain rises once more
on the story.

As though looking up
at the full moon on a summer night,

as though listening closely
to the withered leaves of autumn,

as though hearing
the sound of falling snow.

At times,
mourning for the millions of souls
sleeping far away
in the southern seas.

At times,
mourning for the millions of souls
sleeping far away
in the northern earth,
in the forests.

And quietly listening
to their stories,
to their wordless words.

For their mothers.
For their fathers.
For the Emperor.
For the nation.
For the one they loved.
For these mountains and rivers,
this homeland.

This story
in which so many killed
and so many were killedー

who, then,
would ever perform it again?

This story
of unfathomable fear
and sorrowー

who, then,
would ever perform it again?

Listening to the wordless words
of those who are silent,
as though watching
a silent film.

And at times,
mourning them
as though gently shaking
a little bell in the snow.

And at times,
mourning them
as though quietly swimming
through a sea
reflecting the full moon.

And at times,
on a rainy day,
listening to the rain
against the window,
as you think of the one you love.

Mourning them.

For their mothers.
For their fathers.
For the Emperor.
For the nation.
For the one they loved.
For these mountains and rivers,
this homeland.

This story
in which so many killed
and so many were killedー

who, then,
would ever perform it again?

This story
of unfathomable fear
and sorrowー

who, then,
would ever perform it again?

Long since,
the sun has gone down,
and people walk through the dusk.

Long since,
the birds have returned,
and quietly,
the curtain rises once more
on the story.

Once again,
the curtain rises
on the story.