Being arrayed, of the coffins, the shadows pale coloured.
Making himself up to look younger, wide spread in the sky, the song for self-torture.
By the girl. like the words said, how beautiful it's.
At the summer resort, a Kwaidan in the snow, having told.
Dripping wet, a made numb with cold, to avenge hers. Or, dripping wet, his second daughter numb with cold, to avenge hers.