Awaken, sons of the rising sun!
The sacred flames of temples fall to ash
Ten this year alone, the old gods’ houses burn.
Who wields the torch against your ancient soul?
Defend the spirit carved in wood and stone,
The emperor’s light, the cherry’s fleeting bloom,
Bushidō’s code that still beats in the blood.
Rise with the sword of beauty and of will
Or watch Japan dissolve into the void,
Rootless, hollow, a ghost of what once shone. You are the keepers. Stand. Defend. Reclaim.
The flame dies only if we let it die.