Like the grasses covered in white snow

WHITE SONG
lyrics&music : hyde
english translation : lynne hobday
>>here<<

Breathe
Crisp and cleansing the winter air
I dream of a world in a peaceful sleep
Snow falling gracefully down
Rejoice in winter's deep charm
I can't wait
I can't wait

Freeze
People gather around the fire
I feel all the warmth that the cold inspires
Frost covered tree tops are bright
Shimmering silver tonight
I can't wait
I can't wait

I hope snow will fall upon us soon
Everywhere
The whole world veiled in white
I'd be reset to face the seasons
Once again

Yes on and on falls the snow
Like diamonds from the sky

Our broken hearts - paint them white
Lead us into a wonderland
Pure as the snow - virgin white
A new beginning

I hope snow will fall upon us soon
Everywhere
The whole world veiled in white
I'd be reset to face the seasons
Once again


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I was gone for almost four days last week. I attended the wake for an aunt who died from breast cancer. Her death was hard to accept for all of us. We didn’t know she was suffering from cancer. She never told us. And it is frustrating to know that she could’ve been saved. But she was afraid to be examined by a doctor, of the bills that might come forth, and of asking for help. It was only when the disease had spread through her arms and lungs did she tell us that something was wrong. As she sat on her bed in the ward, she told my cousin, who was waiting on her at that time, that truly regret comes only when it’s too late to turn things around… I am angry. She should've been here still, making us laugh with her usual quips and gibes. If only we had known sooner, we could've at least helped her --accompanied her to the hospital (force her to, if needed). But I have no use for this anger now…

Last December, one of my classmates in college passed away too. And I think I wrote something about it... More than anything, it made me think of myself and eternity. But a death in the family is different. When I arrived at my aunt’s funeral and saw my family mourning, I honestly prayed to God “please, let me die ahead of all of them.” That was cowardly of me. It was a selfish prayer. But I will not take that back --at least, I'm not yet ready to. At the small service held during the funeral, the priest prayed for my aunt’s soul. I’m not catholic, so I don’t believe in that. What I believe is that when you’re out of here, you’re out –the link between this world and you is completely severed and you either move on to heaven or hell (Rach, correct me dear if I’m mistaken). Prayer is for the living, for the ones that are still tied in here. . . . pray for strength and for acceptance -–to accept that my aunt is no longer there, inside that huge city hall where she used to work. . . and that no one will call my cousin Tintin anymore even though her name is Abby. . . and that voice, the funny way it sometimes calls out our names in jest, will no longer be heard. Was. It would take time to accept that when we talk of her we would have to say “she was.” Was is a harsh word. . . Let me not attend any more family reunions on someone's funeral. . . Let this be the last time I say prayers of this sort. Let me be selfish. Allow me to pour these words of my coward self into this tiny knot in time, and contain them here, locked up forever. . . .