Don’t keep my hands away from the river.
‘Cause you’ll never get the chance to touch the flow of the water
What has gone will be gone forever
Since you won’t cross the same river twice…
Before all stands the war – a precious old father
And the very nature of this old man is nothing but a blazing flame.
A flame so long as to the edge of sky.
A flame so vivid as the birth of light.
If you ask me to describe the first day of this world,
I’ll talk to you about the flame – the semi-god who hides himself in the volcano depths.
I’ll teach you all the silent language of fire and the secret music
of the eruption
A bright war is what we start and finish with.
The flames of my war surround me…