Ayumi Hamasaki - Hanabi (Short Ver.)

In motley clothes and with an elder flute—  
To each of us, hope was a generous tribute.  
Far from summer, our winter is grim—  
Yet surely, somewhere, spring must begin.

Someone must drive all the rats from the town—  
The bell like a hammer strikes temples at night.  
Up to Horeb, we climb, then only down—  
Pray that the water will vanish from sight.

Pray that the whirlpool unravels its snare,  
The trail lashes ‘round in a field’s wild advance:  
Till Shavuot, the drought—no rain anywhere,  
Vineyards are ruined, ash in the dance.

Just follow me—  
  Long is the way, and rough,  
  Where heat will strip  
  Your heart ’til it’s raw enough.  
Just follow this torch,  
  No needless speech or doubts;  
  Where light will scorch  
  Your bones as the fever mounts.

A red cloak to heel, and red pointed cap,  
The hunters call out with their Jericho horns.  
Set off on the trail, on the road—an odd scrap;  
The flags dance like mercury, torn by the storms.

Yet we are not wolves—the flags are not law—  
The flute does not cease, we’re deaf, song’s tune sneaks.  
And who leads us on, where our footsteps withdraw?  
Through bogs you can't reach shiny mountain peaks.

With a droning tune—the hurdy-gurdy complains,  
Moss layered in mold, underfoot wind-fallen logs.  
The wiser just lie on the stove with their pains—  
In the air lingers silence, an unsung psalm fogs.

Just follow me—thus  
  the flute hisses through the night,  
  Where a convoy will drive us  
  Past barbed wire’s spite.

Just go that way  
  Where dogs cannot track—  
  Smoldering traces washed from a clay—  
  Water will clean off the muck.


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