The Legend of the Cuckoo

“Calling until spring returns, each cry heralds the full bloom of cuckoo flowers. In the third month, the cuckoos sing, but fierce crosswinds still rage.

They come as clouds on the wind, then leave with snow falling under a blazing sky. Cold light passes, a blood-red branch remains, and I leave this tale for you to tell.”

The sword stirs the rivers and lakes; your name will endure through the ages. To rid the world of evil, root it out completely; let the wicked tremble in fear. From now on, leave the affairs of the martial world to be told by those who come after.