Rising Sun
Japan, solemn, wounded and proud,
Shaken by it's very roots
And tossed aside by an angry and confused Sea.
Swept, but not swept clean, just strewn, crushed, trampled.
Our hearts are wrenched,
We pour out our prayers and spirits.
So much loss, so much destruction, so much grief...
But there, you see someone sweeping what is left of their home.
Another is cooking over a piece of metal, their simple meal.
Another is sharing rice balls, passing them to hungry mouths.
Japan is an old man knocked off his feet, struggling to get back up,
Struggling to remain upright, Struggling to be calm, shivering in the cold.
Retaining their honor, they look out for one another, no looting.
Nuclear disaster looms darkly; how very ironic.
Japan, wounded one, you will survive. You will heal. You will rise again.
Little children, you will mend your tattered flag.
Japan, solemn, wounded and proud,
Shaken by it's very roots
And tossed aside by an angry and confused Sea.
Swept, but not swept clean, just strewn, crushed, trampled.
Our hearts are wrenched,
We pour out our prayers and spirits.
So much loss, so much destruction, so much grief...
But there, you see someone sweeping what is left of their home.
Another is cooking over a piece of metal, their simple meal.
Another is sharing rice balls, passing them to hungry mouths.
Japan is an old man knocked off his feet, struggling to get back up,
Struggling to remain upright, Struggling to be calm, shivering in the cold.
Retaining their honor, they look out for one another, no looting.
Nuclear disaster looms darkly; how very ironic.
Japan, wounded one, you will survive. You will heal. You will rise again.
Little children, you will mend your tattered flag.
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