Japanese
Rōmaji
微温い丈の 疵に 泥を 塗り籠み
逝き損ねし 斎を 瞼に 重ぬ
無数に 散らばる 摘み取りし 腫物に
憫れびは 無く 只 そと 羨しびて
為合うとても せざる 受け太刀 風 すら
構えの侭 絶える 音も 無く
屠る毎に 手馴る 血振い 否む 故
其の 手を 下ろして
振りかぶれば 落ちる 私は 神鳴
生きあぐねし 道が 亦 血で 烟る
末魔の 的は 瞑ぐとも 逸らさぬ
突けば 竭く迄 只 其の 灯火と
為合うとても せざる 受け太刀 風 すら
構えの侭 絶える 音も 無く
屠る毎に 手馴る 血振い 否む 故
其の 手を 下ろして
此の 身空が 打たれたい
尽きせぬ 修羅にて 独り笑む なれど
為敢うとても 畢ること無き 不離 修羅
名乗る迄も 無いとしても 抑 名前は無い
動けば 無益な 毀傷が 痛い 故
其の 儘 討たれて 棹立ち
English Translation
Smearing mud on my scars that are merely trivial
I lay the taboo of my survival over my eyelids (1)
For the picked boils that lay scattered about by the thousands
There is no sense of pity, only silent jealousy
Should we fight, I will not defend, not even a swing
You will die in your stance, without a sound
I detest it how I grow accustomed to shaking off the blood of my sword every time I slay
Therefore, lower your hand
Held aloft, I come down, I am a thunderbolt
The road I am tired of living is again sprayed with blood
I will not miss the targeted vital spot even with my eyes shut (2)
I will just have to stab until the end, merely with that light
Should we fight, I will not defend, not even a swing
You will die in your stance, without a sound
I detest it how I grow accustomed to shaking off the blood of my sword every time I slay
Therefore, lower your hand
I want this body to be stricken down
Though I smile alone amid eternal carnage
Should I accomplish it, endless inseparability, carnage
You say there is no need to state my name, but I do not have one in the first place
Because the futile injuries ache if I move
Be killed right there, standing bolt upright