(v1.5) Padma-Madma; Mysterious Life-Purification Rod 蓮花酔；神秘な命祓いの笏棒（しゃくぼう）

the fiend spake to me,
the pallid-lidded fiend of equivalent exchange, the fiend of black-faced genie.
he spake. 
in the words of eternal law of the ocean, he spake to me,
in the words of the ever-shifting sea; that 
"the more bodily I were to forget, the more mentally I were to fight and lose, 
the closer my true existence were to be, to where She is, far from here."
"She, who is not right here. Far, distant; echoes from here She has not heard."
There, over there, beyond the darkly laid starless canopy I held in memory, and what I cherished
in darkness unready as with my flesh and soul; my deepest lost love, my darkest smoldering light-wishes, lambent unto Herself.
in and through my cold, hard and white bones' house's Spectacle-Glass I behold her visage imaginary…
dearly, dearly, daily and nightly so dearly.
the most uncanny genie of the Way, the twofold sorrow-destiny.
the spirit of music tragedy spake to me, he spake in sad musical melodies.
"the more thou seekst, the more thou comest to know and gain,
reaping thine harvest, thence may
further away she be and she flee, further away she will and shall be from thy chase.
those who keep,
philosophical virtues do always puzzle and amaze themselves; thus eludest thyself Her.
yet those who weep,
feminine tears in ignorance did flow wantonly, and flow now gracelessly wantonly.
every creamer's crystal chrysalis, every pupa's puella-chrysalis.
aeternal chrysalis of innocence dreamt up by two-fold Path, decrying his own changed fortune (Woe's).
in every illness and every pain, in her (Woo's) dejected diverse misfortunes, She shows herself momently in which, but flows flittering away.
Gracelessly, wantonly, as if waking up,
carelessly,
waking up, waking,
always waking."
Why couldn't you wait for me? Why wouldn't? My Dear, I am still
in a dream.
in a dream waiting for you to wake me
wake me up.
The genie of the very gentle lightless and sightless color'd realm, the Lord of frigidly ardent odorous suffering,
the genie of coldly fervent praying-beads of sweats and pantingly bubbling hope-prophesying, and the quickening, pulsating heart of hearts.
He in miraculous pity himself betook spake to me, I, whose destiny in His wondrous wisdom he held cannot foresee. 
I, whose destiny towards my to come union with Her, is a question of to be or not to be.
"Friend, thou art still young, and drowning, in the sea, in the river,"
Fiend.
"in the pond, in the puddle. thou art living and dwelling
swelling up in thy tears, in washed-up memory---of She…"
that flew away, that flows away.
She is not here, She is not to be…she was here…
I am drowning…in my puddle, bubbling…through my prayer.
I pray to the tiny droplets of rain to come upon the surface of my mirror-heaven, I am here
down under the puddle, down under the sea.
I am lying lying, in stillness and death lying and dying.
Waiting for thee to wake me up. I am here.
I am lonely, I am the water…
waiting to be parched…so I can leave the eternal wet and undulant ocean.
its aimless, witless, loveless tides…I can leave…
as neither flesh nor soul, nor ghost…I shall leave…the water shall be parched.
the fiend of dark, hopeless, lightless, essence-bare doom spake to me.
the fiend, the cause of all Universal Evils and their undergoing,
he spake in friendship, brotherly love, deepest sympathy
he spake with sympathising tears, candid, guileless tears.
"Fish, as long as thou swimst. 
Thou and She were not to be.
Slumber in thy depths. 
Wait till the stars thus turn and return,
fulfilling their destined wheellike trajectories, till cold sky
is old with the newest born shining stars' glimmering yet again."
"Wait till the ocean to dry.
so thy blue, inky sorrow, down in the abyss
can become one with the red flame above even us, who are regal heavenly."
He still has not answered, he still lies.
always, to the creatures meaninglessly dies…this is difficult mercy..
but pointless.. this is pointless…
what is the worth of three-thousand-myriads' unspeakable unknownable syllableless mantra-hums (songs without Her)
seven-hundred-million-folded prismatic light-immolating sutra-colors (sight without Her)
threesome unbreakable undifferentiable thunder-roaring-adamantine self-proven yoga-trinity (scent-essence without Her)
all solid and tumescent, barbaric customs and lies, mendacious dissimulation without a tiny droplet (the mercy-rain that is Her)
of She, who is the Eternal Truth, unitary, Oneness, that penetrates the Sight and leave Him forever blind? (the truth-water that is Her)
a drop of crystal rain in the fallacious blue and black Ocean? 
(the ray that broke the dissembling mirror, that is Her who broke the Moon)
the fiend…he spake no more…he is too sad…
he is too young and ignorant, and does not know…the End…
so he returns to his haunt, the Tomb of every Being and un-Being in the universe.
and cries Himself to sleep, for he misses his Mother. He misses School and being taught and praised. He misses Field Sports and drinking Mare-Milk fermented Wine…He is all alone in the universe, for he is God.
I am still in the waterless puddle waiting for rain. Where are you?
Where are you? My Love, I am waiting for you!
I am waiting for you to wake me up! I am waiting for the dream to end.
I hate all frivolously light and heartless songs! I only long for your beloved calling---calling my Name!
I am waiting for the palm tress to grow up and date fruits to bloom out of flowers, from the dark, damp formless soil-sea (desert). I am waiting for the honey to ferment into jolly dancing drunkenness falling unto my lips---dripping falling sweetness that is neither of Man nor of God…the unknownable, unsingable, orderlessly ordered through neither black nor white…the immaterially non-existing and missing quintessence, the Eternal Drunkenness that is You beyond all Names, Colours, Dreams, Warmths, Shapes and Understandings….I am waiting for the end of the falsehood that is this deceiving and pretending Universe. and For thou to wake me up from my Eternal Desert of Night to the Twilight…like Fish in the water thirsting for the Rain to fall upon the pond and fulfill the Absolute Emptiness that is Everything.

The more I forget, the more I shall not get, the more I lose of myself…
the closer I am to be, with Her…the swifter my flying pace…
When the water of my Eyes dry up one day…maybe I can soar away from this deep Well of Eternal Lies, and finally start my flying journey searching for Her…in an uncharted, much broader and more indefinite Heaven, where I am not Man anymore. 

The black-faced fiend who was lying upon His grave till now, faintly heard my prayer, was woken up gently; and with His pallid back*2 still turned against me, He started to sob, allowing tiny drops of his tears of his inmost heart to fall from his fleshy cheeks once more.
The fiend, known as the Equivalent Exchange.*1

インスピレーション
#東方 レインレイム - ゾウノセのイラスト - pixiv

東方輝針城 タイトル曲ーー不思議なお祓い棒
Double Dealing Character title music---Mysterious Purification Rod

*1 alternative version
The black-faced fiend who was lying upon His grave till now, faintly heard my prayer, was woken up gently; and with His turned back against me, He started to sob and weep tiny drops of tears again.
The fiend, known as the Equivalent Exchange.

The black-faced fiend who was lying upon His grave till now, faintly heard my prayer, was woken up gently, and with His back against me, started to sob and weep tiny droplets of tears again. (into mid-air)
The fiend, known as the Equivalent Exchange.

The black-faced fiend who was lying upon His grave till now, faintly heard my prayer, was woken up gently--though with pallid-lids still closed, and with His back against me, started to sob and weep into midair tiny droplets of tears again.
The fiend, known as the Equivalent Exchange.

*2 This genie is also a metaphor for my eye-lids, the front is black as I cannot see, the back is pallid colour which is pressed against my eyeball as I close my eyes. (and the light penetrating through them make them as if pallid)