双樹 || A Pair of Trees

Album art.
Album art.

双樹
souju
A Pair of Trees

Vocals: 秣本 瑳羅 (Sara Matsumoto)
Arranged by: Cororo
Album: bullshit! [Official site]
Circle: Riverside
Event: Reitaisai 12 [RTS12]
Original theme: Illusionary Joururi [幻想浄瑠璃]

Requested by: Moon

The cover art gives us a very strong “Seija disrupts society” vibe, but that album title…

As for the song itself, the title references a ‘pair of trees.’ However, it’s also a shortened form of the word for a sal tree (沙羅双樹). In Buddhist mythology, Buddha died lying between two sal trees. The sal tree also appears in The Tale of the Heike, and its brief flowering period is a symbol of how glory is fleeting. Two sal trees, two Tsukumo sisters…


歌詞

はらはらと舞うは薄紅 朧夜に煌めいて
聴こえるか お前の為に紡ぎ出す極上の調べ
ゆらゆらと走る波紋は 幾重にも重なって
聴こえるか 懐かしかろう 何度でも奏でてやるから

今は眠れ

ざわざわと舞うは蜉蝣 朧夜に揺らめいて
聴こえるか 歪な薄刃 片羽が奏でる静寂
ひそひそと伝う波紋は 幾重にも重なって
聴こえるか 恐ろしかろう 何度でも歌ってやるから

今は眠れ 耳の痛みが消えるまで

恨みは我が弦に集う儚き刃 春の夜に狂う沙羅双樹が笑う

ふらふらと琵琶を探して 宙をかく細い腕
知らぬだろう 付喪と化した我が姿 盲いたその眼は
きらきらと水鏡の様 朧夜を写し出す
聴こえるか 懐かしかろう 共に歌った愛しき人よ

ここにいるぞ ここにいるぞ

狂い咲きやがて枯れて散りゆく 兵どもが夢の跡
経に隠された語り部の歌 今宵も求めて彷徨って

はらはらとあふるる涙 その歌を待ちわびた
灯火は弱々しくも 幽玄の輝きを放つ
しとしとと落ちる影より 反魂の香が薫る
月明かり 九十九の祈り 頼りないその手を掴んで

誘うの鬼火 諸行無常の音に踊れ

乱れよ我が弦に唸れ嵐の如く 地獄の塚より 鶴が走り去る
恨みは我が弦に集う儚き刃 春の夜に狂う沙羅双樹が笑う

Romanisation

hara hara to mau wa usubeni oboroyo ni kirameite
kikoeru ka omae no tame ni tsumugi dasu gokujou no shirabe
yura yura to hashiru hamon wa ikue ni mo kasanatte
kikoeru ka natsukashi karou nando demo kanadete yaru kara

ima wa nemure

zawa zawa to mau wa kagerou oboroyo ni yurameite
kikoeru ka ibitsu na usuba katabane ga kanaderu seijaku
hiso hiso to tsutau hamon wa ikueni mo kasanatte
kikoeru ka osoroshi karou nando demo utatte yaru kara

ima wa nemure mimi no itami ga kieru made

urami wa waga gen ni tsudou hakanaki yaiba haru no yoru ni kuruu sarasouju ga warau

fura fura to biwa o sagashite chuu o kaku hosoi ude
shiranu darou tsukumo to ka shita waga sugata meshiita sono me wa
kira kira to suikyou no you oboroyo o utsushidasu
kikoeru ka natsukashi karou tomo ni utatta itoshiki hito yo

koko ni iru zo koko ni iru zo

kuruizaki yagate karete chiri yuku tsuwamono-domo ga yume no ato
kei ni kakusareta kataribe no uta koyoi mo motomete samayotte

hara hara to afururu namida sono uta o machiwabita
tomoshibi wa yowayowashiku mo yuugen no kagayaki o hanatsu
shito shito to ochiru kage yori hangon no ka ga kaoru
tsukiakari tsukumo no inori tayori nai sono te o tsukande

sasou no onibi shogyou mujou no ne ni odore

midare yo waga gen ni unare arashi no gotoku jigoku no tsuka yori tsuru ga hashiri saru
urami wa waga gen ni tsudou hakanaki yaiba haru no yo ni kuruu sarasouju ga warau

Translation

Light pink flowers flutter and dance down. They glisten in the misty moonlit night.
Can you hear it? I spun the finest melody for your sake.
Ripples run unstably. They overlap over and over again.
Can you hear it? Perhaps it’s nostalgic. I’ll play this melody countless times.

Now, sleep…

The dragonflies rustle and dance. They waver in the misty moonlit night.
Can you hear it? The blade is twisted. One of the pair performs in the silence.
Ripples travel, whisper-like. They overlap over and over again.
Can you hear it? Perhaps it’s terrifying. I’ll sing this melody countless times.

Now, sleep. Sleep until the pain in your ears disappears.

Malice is a fleeting blade gathering near my strings. The sal trees, gone mad in a spring night, laugh.

They search for their biwa with no goal in mind. Their narrow arms draw in space.
Perhaps they are unaware of their form, having become a tsukumogami. They are blind.
Like the shining water’s surface, their eyes reflect the misty, moonlit night.
Can you hear it? Perhaps it’s nostalgic. O, beloved person who sang together with me!

I am here. I am here.

They bloom out of season, then eventually wither and fall. The soldiers are traces of a dream.
The storyteller’s song is hidden in scripture. Tonight I wander, searching for it.

My tears fall silently. I’m tired of waiting for that song.
Though the light is weak, it emits a subtly graceful light.
A scent, calling back spirits, is fragrant. It comes from the shadows that gently rain down.
Moonlight. Tsukumo’s prayer. I grasp their indistinct hand.

The will-o’-wisp lures you. Dance to transient sounds!

Lapse into chaos and rage at my strings like a storm! The crane flees from a hellish barrow.
Malice is a fleeting blade gathering near my strings. The sal trees, gone mad in a spring night, laugh.

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