Elder sister vomits blood,younger sister’s breathing firewhile sweet little Tominojust spits up the jewels. All alone does Tominogo falling into that hell,a hell of utter darkness,without even flowers.Is Tomino’s big sisterthe one who whips him?The purpose of the scourginghangs dark in his mind.3Lashing and thrashing him, ah!But never quite shattering.One sure path to Avici, 4the eternal hell.Into that blackest of hellsguide him now, I pray—to the golden sheep,to the nightingale.How much did he putin that leather pouchto prepare for his trek tothe eternal hell?Spring is comingto the valley, to the wood,to the spiraling chasmsof the blackest hell.The nightingale in her cage,the sheep aboard the wagon,and tears well up in the eyesof sweet little Tomino.5Sing, o nightingale,in the vast, misty forest—he screams he only misseshis little sister.His wailing desperationechoes throughout hell—a fox peonyopens its golden petals.Down past the seven mountainsand seven rivers of hell—the solitary journeyof sweet little Tomino.If in this hell they be found,may they then come to me, please,those sharp spikes of punishmentfrom Needle Mountain. Not just on some empty whimIs flesh pierced with blood-red pins:they serve as hellish signpostsfor sweet little Tomino.