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万一你不来-零零零陆捌(今天你是第六十八次没来)
Beautiful is thy wristlet, decked with stars and cunningly wrought in myriad-coloured jewels. But more beautiful to me thy sword with its curve of lightning like the outspread wings of the divine bird of Vishnu, perfectly poised in the angry red light of the sunset.
It quivers like the one last response of life in ecstasy of pain at the final stroke of death; it shines like the pure flame of being burning up earthly sense with one fierce flash.
Beautiful is thy wristlet, decked with starry gems; but thy sword, O lord of thunder, is wrought with uttermost beauty, terrible to behold or think of.
你的手镯如此高贵,镶嵌宝石如黑夜里的繁星。
你的手腕如此矫捷,剑光闪闪如夕阳下的神鸟之翼。
你的意志如此坚定,炫耀着燃尽世俗的纯焰。
我的主,雷霆震撼大地,痛苦、死亡前的回光,也能闪耀绚丽。
我的主,赐予我你的神剑之力,让一切畏惧颤抖着退去。
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