Dawn came softly, your footsteps entangled with the dewdrops.
The sea breeze blew gently as you walked through unfamiliar times.
Counting the old wounds, we could not see the end of life's long uncertainties.
This little path beneath our feet led to a peaceful, warm hometown.
But these flying flames disturbed the quiet heart.
How could we believe it? Could we really believe it?
In the bitter storm, the defiant storm petrel soared.
Yet from behind the curtain, a cold gun barrel emerged.
War burned souls to ashes, roaring fiercely across the sky.
When the flames died, all fell silent, their echoes sighing over the waves.
While dawn still wore its light veil, while the sea still reflected the rosy clouds,
the heroes had long since vanished without a trace, and the harbor here was quiet.
