#2008.09.24

[bloompsychedelicdream]

closer translation (English)

Updated translation : new site

I was saying we’d go together, didn’t I? You’re not really interested, huh? I say “look over here.” You only nodded your head, “I see” This isn’t like a movie. We’re no good at theatrical speech, And the boredom is just circumstance. I’ve had it with this incredible acting

Dreams are more egocentric, and daydreams are too generous Reality, huh? It’s too cruel, or rather, I’m a voice gone mute

Sequence/talk You haven’t said anything Sequence/stop You had been loved Sequence/cause I was ignorant Sequence/hope And smiled as I said “see you tomorrow” Sequence/talk A hollow imitation Sequence/stop I simply Sequence/cause Yearn for love or something But it’s a crime

I tried to listen a little to the cassette tapes I had often recorded, but immediately erased them Somehow “I love you” was so shrill. You should have stopped speaking English

Sequence/talk An organic desire for love Sequence/stop A living thing’s supplementary records Sequence/cause Stranded on inconveniences Sequence/hope If it ends with a “see you tomorrow” Sequence/talk It’s an ambiguous imitation of loneliness Sequence/stop I simply Sequence/cause Yearn for love or something But it’s a crime

For whose sake does the door that greets me rust and refuse to open I say “look over there.” You only nodded your head, “I see”

Sequence/talk One must have lived Sequence/stop A silent hanging Sequence/cause Onlookers of the dance Sequence/hope The reminiscing that covered it up Sequence/talk Resignation, an escape Sequence/stop I simply Sequence/cause Keep missing my chance at love Another crime

[bloompsychedelicdream]

Kioku-yuki translation (English)

Updated translation : new site

“Memory-Bound”

Goodbye. Even if you can’t remember me, don’t cry, alright? That’s a lie from fairyland. In truth, I want you to cry just a little. 4 AM. The station is still dark. I’m just waiting for the first departure. So many emails I can’t delete. When I open my cellphone, dream light.

I wonder how far I could go with only one wish? The railway leading to you softly creaks.

The train is “Memory-Bound.” Something that said “see you next time” back then.

The world begins to turn. A faded white face is the last trace of the moon. If I had taken you farther away, would you have smiled as you leaned against me?

A glittering river of light is reflected in the glass window Passing “Your Station” to the town farthest away.

Why is it so calm, And yet so eerie for some reason.

A pendulum clock. Suppressing and moving its springs. For the rest of my days, to my final breath, I’ll never forget

I wonder how far I could have gone with only one wish? I stepped out onto a platform that felt like you were the only one in the world not there.

I wrote an email I won’t send. When I close my cellphone, time light.

I wonder how my reflection looks in your eyes, unaware

[bloompsychedelicdream]

Balloon translation (English)

Updated translation : new site

The dawn moon that bequeaths desire – from within my cage, it’s still the same The flight of a wind-up bird – if only I could fly so I could follow it

I’m able to have many dreams for some reason – to go to meet you wherever you are Cobalt watercolor – like sinking into tears thawed

Though the heart has been remolded by the season, Longing remained forgotten in the corner

Nothing to forget, nothing to remember, if one stood wholly in the present, Surely an answer would be found there. To a question asked in fragments

Unreliable is the door to the heart. When it opens, its hinges creak Lights lit in a distant town. Not a place exists beyond here

The days decorated by beautiful words ended To be adjoined by sadness before long

Nothing to forget, nothing to remember, if one stood wholly in the present, Surely an answer would be found there. To a question asked in fragments

Me, you, the hopes we hold onto so tightly, If we were to wish for the same scene, we could have gone even farther

Though the heart has been remolded by the season, Longing remained forgotten in the corner If my wish were to come true, I would have been happy to die by your side But it became a lie. It became a lie. So the light is going out

Nothing to forget, nothing to remember, if one stood wholly in the present, Surely an answer would be found there. To a question asked in fragments The wish released from my palm — to a sky suspended above the clouds Where I hope you can see it too — a sky hung with a thin crescent moon

[bloompsychedelicdream]

GEKKO OVERHEAD translation (English)

Updated translation : new site

“MOONLIGHT OVERHEAD”

Thunder claps. The 30th time at least, patience wanes The depression, the hopelessness, etc. – all war flags, mistakes in variation That’s the 10th, no, 13th time. The limits of what can be conceived A blank stuck between “child” and “elderly.” That’s how it feels

Dance, dance here. Dance and turn it on. Beg and turn it on And then cry over there. Do not curse anyone. Cry and let it out

Turn on the heart. The moonlit butterfly nestles close to you¹ time and time again How beautifully your eyes reflected the starry sky. The moonlight, transient

A 30-story building buffeted by wind. On the rooftop, patience wanes Guilt, verbal abuse, etc. – it is all self-inflicted Tear up all of the hundreds of horrible things that have been said, and finally scream The way of crawling out of that is like the samurai who lowers his blade²

Dance, dance here. Dance and turn it on. Beg and turn it on And then cry over there. Do not curse anyone. Sob and let it out

Turn on the heart. The moonlit butterfly nestles close to you time and time again How beautifully your eyes reflected the starry sky. The moonlight, transient

Dance, dance here. Dance and be saved by reincarnation And then cry over there. Do not envy anyone. It is a spectacle that tears one to pieces

The world’s cruelty glowed within the heart. I³ am the moonlit butterfly of transition The scene that can be reflected in your eyes is both the beauty and the irredeemable cruelty of the days

- - -

T/N: Another song where the narrator isn’t specified until the very end. There are several interesting things about the language used in the lyrics. It’s supposed to sound old, and the lines about the butterfly use words associated with Buddhism

¹御身 – respectful form of “you”

²構えを解く – “Kamae wo Toku,” this is a specific move used in kendo

³我が身 – a way of referring to oneself that is usually used these days to evoke an ancient feeling

[bloompsychedelicdream]

Shayou translation (English)

Updated translation : new site

“Setting Sun”

The setting sun through the window, how trite Deathly silent is the sunset hour I was daydreaming. Lost in thought. That grew tiresome so I stopped And then it emerged to tease me – my dancing shadow

Let me hear it, you shadowy imposter A confession from the heart I’ve forgotten how to be shy On the other side of the fluttering curtain The sun falls. My shadow struggles to the death

Yearning is crimson, dyed deeper it’s the color of blood The world turns redder, redder, and I ask a question No answer returns, because within the shadows There is only the past. The future does not exist.

It’s too bright, I can’t see The setting sun glowed as if to sweep it all away——.

Outside of the window is the end of days The smog burns my eyes Reflected by the light and torn to pieces, the shadow can never reform

Orange unable to go back is the color of blood at the point of no return I stand with myself in this world turning redder and redder Unable to talk, hindered by shadow The touch of fingertips brings a nameless emotion Without fear, without comfort, because it’s disappearing… Loneliness is all that remains

It’s too bright, I can’t see The setting sun glowed as if to burn it all away——.

[bloompsychedelicdream]

Fiction translation (English)

Updated translation : new site

I’m trying to blow a whistle into the crimson sky of a depressing day I had found my place in a crowd of people I know it’s an uninviting world, and when the tears spill out, They’re from my lukewarm sentimentality

I’m trying to sing a song that’s like an ineffective spell To match a frequency I didn’t know Abandoned emotions remain that way What had I lost to be seen as myself?

Sunset, sunset, for the reason I had cried Sunday, Sunday, for the meaning of a smile Sunshine

I close my eyes and when I try to form an image, it’s of myself flying with my arms outstretched Feathers of a distorted dream flutter, and I feel like I’m riding on a wind that cuts through the darkness Flying through a calm night, a calm night, a calm night All the way to the future, the future

I look only for the things I understand, and I’m held motionless and unable to move Yet my eyes fall with bittersweet sentimentality Advancing one scene at a time, reality is a parade The march pitches forward even without the dogs, the pheasants, and the monkeys!

Frame, frame, packing the scene Phrase, phrase, the beginning slowly Goes flat

I close my eyes and when I try to form an image, it’s of myself flying with my arms outstretched I wonder if this freedom I had found in a warped dream will let me go anywhere in the darkness? Dyed with the glow of the sunset, the glow of the sunset, the glow of the sunset It cast only the future, only the future

It’s a UFO! It’s flying away! No way! Shoot it down en route! It’s getting away. It’s taking me away. It’s a fable.

This is fiction.

I close my eyes and when I try to form an image, it’s of myself flying with my arms outstretched Feathers of a distorted dream flutter – maybe I’ll become the wind that cuts through the darkness If I’m being honest, even your tears would stop when I open my eyes

With deep love and sadness, From the crowd From the street I rush up to the distant sky A panorama Breaking Through the ozone layer Through the atmosphere Goodbye Goodbye Bye bye——.

[bloompsychedelicdream]

Q translation (English)

Updated translation : new site

It was swaying in the worn-out window A memory left behind by those insignificant days The sorrow all dried up was ignored To keep it even farther away than the place of forgotten thoughts

Why was I so enthralled by that railway leading To a tomorrow where my fleeting hopes showed no sign of growing stronger? If my beating heart, so empty that it hurts, were to answer, I’m afraid that even naïve illusions would be futile. Surely

You know, thoughts can’t really be transmitted Even so, we look for someone anyway You know, nothing in this world is certain But we see only what we want to see

Will I ignore even the future to arrive At a tomorrow where my fleeting hopes show no sign of growing stronger? If my beating heart, so empty that it hurts, were to answer, I’m afraid that even shallow desires would be futile. Surely

Why was I so enthralled by that railway leading To a tomorrow where my fleeting hopes showed no sign of growing stronger? If my beating heart, so empty that it hurts, were to answer, I’m afraid that even naïve illusions would be futile. Surely

[bloompsychedelicdream]

Dummy Box translation (English)

Updated translation : new site

That day when I first understood was a cloudy one. “Maybe it’s your turn next,” they said. I was happy. The number on the key I held had rusted away But more than that, the truth had been forgotten

Dummy box, a foggy night The balsam that had only just blossomed bursts¹ open Dummy box, until it rots, I just want it to be a little redder, to gently make it bloom

If you were to go somewhere, to ask someone, Would the hand of salvation be held out to you? If it’s there, if you think like that, Do you think the hand of salvation reaches to you out of pity?

The strange feeling I felt had been there that day Or maybe I just go a little crazy every time that old clock chimes Echoes, trips, strange suggestions, discomfort, indecency, benevolence, angels But more than that, I really want to forget

Dummy box, a foggy night One balsam flower, a crimson so loaded with emotion Dummy box, until it rots, I just want to dye it a little deeper, to make it bloom

A solo ballad is offered up somewhere Is it the voice of salvation that wants to be heard? If one sings there, if those feelings are sung, Do you think the voice of salvation would whisper out of pity?

Dummy box, a single thought The balsam that had only just blossomed bursts open Dummy box, it’s rotting It tears open a little redder, don’t touch it Dummy box, it had broken, but Now it’s forever in pieces. Torn apart in shades of red

If you were to go somewhere, to ask someone, Would the hand of salvation be held out to you? If it’s there, if you think like that, Do you think the hand of salvation reaches to you out of pity?

The struggling balsam The struggling balsam

- - - -

T/N: ¹garden balsam, which this song is about, is known for its seed pods that explode when touched