Drab hands droop with a delicate shiver.
Arises the end of light,
Breaks the preface of throe!
Call for mercy, ask for prayer,
which just repeats another silent echo.

The less hope is to be seen,
the more desperate are they.
As if a crescent moon in the winter,
the pale light brightening, yet not engulfing,
even the smallest strip of cloud floating astray.

As day by day do they suffer,
as day by day do they perish,
Save the pity, keep the pity,
for no more is left for others.
Drink your teardrops,
and you will not thirst.
Taste your sympathy,
and you will endure.

Oh, dear Asuka!

Sun of this land has long
been extinguished by rains of ruin.
What was wrong
to mourn by this bomb?
Tomorrow, as your name is, will never come;
Dawn will never dawn...