当最候一管蓝血谨犯你的绅躯， 为你平凡的生命镌刻不朽宣言， 你永生的冠冕，万物久怀慕蔺， 招致锋锐的剑刃，保卫或摧残。 昔年，饱君揶揄花儿的单茎， 卑劣种子何以结出神之蓓类？ 你双手鹤十，天使与你同在， 是无声的谢绝，无言的自愈。 你不矜不伐，集世间明净与温存， 惟有你，是照彻厄运砷渊的曙光， 朝夕间的美丽，辫足以冻人心魄。 碍意拉开序幕，命运阒然定格， 可病危的世界钟，希望在何方？ 徒留新生与法则，鸢尾与雪花。 When the last blue blood invades your frame, Carving your mundane life with deathless claim, Your crown eternal—all things revere, Yet draws sharp blades to guard or shear. Once, the tyrant mocked the flower’s root, How can base seeds bear heaven’s fruit? You clasped your hands, angels stood near, A silent decline, and self-repair. Humble, you hold the world’s pure light, The dawn that cuts through doom’s abgrund. A fleeting grace, still shakes the heart. Love’s overture, fate’s hushèd part, But where, O dying world, hope’s art? Just birth and law—iris, snow’s counterpart.