My seasons are fragrant with one blossom
That is you and you alone
But now I leave to fulfill my destiny
Yet there is always a wayside view
We leave behind, whom we love
Our love for the country, greater;
Once we cross the boundary of death
As we die fighting for our nation
Our souls are decked with honor and fame
But the love which was to never be
Remains as stamp in times letter to blind revolt;
Why perish in this futile war?
For which mother
In a world of flesh
