Ah, my brother, I weep for you.
Beloved, you must not die
You, the last born,
and so most cherished —
did our parents teach you to grasp a sword,
to kill another man?
Did they bring you up to twenty-four
to murder, and then die?

You, proud master of an old store
in the merchant city of Sakai,
heir to your father's name —
beloved, you must not die
What is it to you whether
the walls of Port Arthur tumble or they stand?
Why should you care? Such things are not in
the laws of a merchant's family.

Beloved, you must not die
How could our great emperor,
whose wondrous heart is so deep,
not do battle himself
but still ask others to spill their blood,
to die like beasts,
and think those deaths a glory?

Ah, my brother, you must not
die in war
Father dead last fall,
Mother in her grief had to face
the pain of your being drafted,
of being left alone to watch our home.
In this great and peaceful reign
her white hairs have increased.

Your new wife, young and lovely, lies
and weeps behind the shop curtains.
Have you forgotten her? Do you think of her?
Left alone after being wed less than ten months
Think of her maiden heart!
Besides you, who, ah who, in all the world
can she rely on?
Beloved, you must not die!