(I)
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"The Last Veranda"
Have you heard of the last city on top of the sacred mountain,
Where the immortal god shoulders the eternal sun?
In silence, dawn lingers on.
In stillness, hope is never truly gone
O displaced soul, where does your path now lead?
The black tide's surging. Chaos is raging. Death is prevailing.
O exiled vagabond, do you still expect tomorrow?
The gods are silent. Fate is gloomy. Madness is rampaging
Seek the paradise amidst the fallen world,
Where sunlight, pure springs, and fertile soil still exist.
Find the veranda of that merciful god,
Where laughters, feasts, and fine wine are not yet lost
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