Oh gentle winds beneath starry skies,
Do you not hear my concave cries?
Below the kindling, here now,
Do you not sense my regret and guilt?
Side shimmering rivers, sparkling stars,
Do you not hear my doleful screams?
Upon the pastures, tortured with fire,
Do not you see my hearts askew?
Beneath the hundred burning flames,
Do you not feel my jagged scars?
Seek not my mournful heart that wafts,
For you'll not find it amongst these thorns.
It's scattered across the starry skies,
Accompanied by heartfelt sighs.
It's swimming in the silent rain,
A symbol of my silent pain.
It's buried beneath the pastures fair,
Conjoined with all the sorrow there.
It's lost amongst the stars tonight,
Too far to alleviate my quiet fright.
No gentle winds, seek not my heart,
For simply ... it has torn apart.
Figure out whose cries these are?
Take care!
Soni