Lyrics: Temari
Music: Temari
Arrange: Ruvie

If this voice of mine reaches heaven, please tell me the purpose of our being
Even the sound of that heart, even the voice, even the warmth; because to call that a pretence would be too kind

At that end which is merely Godís jest, modelled on himself, we were created
This world is like a chessboard, where you and I are cruelly disfavoured

The street of bricks severes the sound, it loses form
I am searching for the place where the children sleep

In the palm of that hand, in the trickery, whatís the replica that was envisioned?
Even our birth and meeting, was it a scenario in that hand?

The ashen rain falls, while white is dyed black

As long as you were there ------

The flowers of heaven are swaying in the wind, even this end of the play seems like a fabrication
Grasping the truth, withering and falling before long, as if it's mocking us

translated by jiayan


"We were created"
This line carries an underlying nuance of being bestowed. As in, "we received the gift of being created", that sort of feeling.

"Even this end of the play seems like a fabrication"
Temari used the noun "shuumaku", which means "end". It is used for the end of performances or plays.
I included the part about the play in the translation because there were references to it throughout the song.