When my blood soaks the grains in the field,
Take them home and plant inside a pot, I will stay your shield.
I'll sprout as wheat in winter on our windowsill.
Take me with you even when you leave this place on appeal.

Silent autumn awaits its leaves.
Cuckoo, cuckoo, how long is left for peace?

I’m still alive in your serene, quiet world.
Turn on your light to save us from the coming storm.
Grow through us in winter, become one with our hearts.
Take us with you, even when this place must fall apart.