|
Words of mine and songs must fail |
|
But this oath binds us both |
|
Now let us be |
|
Like the solitary rose |
|
Now have us drown |
|
In truth's garment of sound |
|
And how strange to be here |
|
Atop your floating bridges |
|
Now we shall dive for abalone |
|
You carry peaches and sugar |
|
Still wrapped in the foliage |
|
Of distant shores |
|
A seafarer's trade |
|
An angry sacrifice made |
|
This flight has now binder |
|
What anger blinded |
|
There is no rest yet |
|
We strip each word bare |
|
With the tenderest of care |
|
And as your mouth longs for tears |
|
My heart still flows toward you |
|
Is it our calling |
|
To live in peace with virtuous friends |
|
Or to sleep inside |
|
The cannon's mouth? |
|
I know that words of mine |
|
And songs must fail |
|
But this oath binds us both |
|
For we have a pact of blood |
|
With the sun |
|
For we have a pact of blood |
|
With the sun |
