Between two shores, past and present, A sky stretches vast and boundless, a limitless realm of freedom. Flowers are rooted in the earth, yet they still yearn for the endless sky, And though they are without wings, they still seek to rise through the air... Just as the fate of flowers is bound by the roots deep beneath the ground, The dandelions are destined to witness the heights and freedom of the sky. The endless azure empyrean is as if a dome that reflects the world beneath it, With white clouds above dotting the calm and peaceful sky. Just as the tenacious dandelions and wild chrysanthemums, The people of the verdant ground will heed freedom's call. The tyranny of storms and bitter winter may have oppressed them, And the virtues they held may have become corrupt and gone astray, But so long as the traditions of praising the skyward gales remain, And so long as this precious freedom continues to be celebrated from generation to generation, Then the people will ever soar to the sky like all the seeds of the dandelions, Leaning on their spirited souls to pursue a boundless and unshackled freedom.