Wasurena Tsukiyo

From <The Seventh Archive>, I have established a connection between <what could be called consciousness> and the seventh horizon...
[She] received a marriage proposal from a certain man in power. However, the woman would stubbornly refuse that proposal even though she knew that she was in no position to do that. A fated, dreamlike meeting that later generations would call <a fairytale>. The woman would die, crucified on a cross, for staying true to her young, faint feelings towards her first love...
The <factor> that was predicted to change the outcome of this tragedy - I attempted a [denial] of [her] ad921d60486366258809553a3db49a4a. Well then. Is the cat within the box alive, or is it dead? Let us take a peek inside the cage...

Forget Not this Moonlit Night

I look up to the moon in the sky at dusk...and feel a sense of nostalgia...
All of a sudden...a single <droplet>[raindrop] falls...

It trails down my cheek...and my mind is filled with the <phantom lights>[lights] of <remembrance>[the past]...
I gently wiped it away with my fingertip...and whispered to myself, to <deny> this contradiction...
I am...happy...

What really was the moonlight to her?
She unknown lady, who lived outside the pages of Märchen.
She is the Nein.

The cold, dignified air of a tranquil morning
All alone in the rays of the sun, I make the sign of the cross

I offer my prayers, indulging in this sense of fulfillment
And a moment of retrospection-

The <marriage>[banquet] of nobles are but a transient <fantasy of one night>[dream]
Left with no choice for our partner in dance
Used as a piece in a worldy <battle for power>[game]
I end my <life> in a small birdcage....

I did not gain release from that cage out of my own will
I was simply disposed of, like <a defective object that no longer serves its purpose>[trash]...

I was brought to court as the accused.
It was a divorce trial in name only.
Everyone, from the judge to the observers,
Were all people with connections to <Rhein-Pfarz>[my husband].

A witch who can’t leave behind an heir.
(“If you can’t bear a child, you must be a witch.”)
A farce to get rid of a nuisance.
They made a long list of accusations, a mix of facts and fabrications
And the final verdict was that the marriage was invalid.
(“I declare this marriage to be invalid!”)

If a woman is deemed sinful just because she can’t bear a child
Then I have no attachments to this Ninth Reality[world]; I’m even glad to be rid of it
I don’t want anything to do with it!

Immediately -> the prince-elector -> flies into rage <- and the moonlight watched him...

(“I’ll never forgive you, Elisabeth...never, I say!! How dare you shame me like this!?
And here I was wondering why a spinster like you decided to finally grow up and get married, and this is how it all ends!?
Do you really think you can just waltz back into the house after what you did!?
Just get the hell out and go wherever you want! Curse mother for digging you up and curse your own fate as you die outside!”

“Milady!!!”)

“Elderly people certainly get up early!!”
(The Abbot’s away for some errands,
So we decided amongst ourselves that we’ll skip the morning prayer & worship since we’re sleepy
But this shitty divorced old hag just had to be all serious about it and wake up early
Also, isn’t she rumored to be the abbot’s older sister or something?)

I turn my back and ignore the thinly veiled malice
To the average noble’s daughter who’s here as part of her training to become a bride
I am the worst example of what can occur, a future that must be avoided at all costs

A woman’s <prime time for childbearing>[season] is but a short <transient season>[summer]
It passes by in the blink of an eye
A plaything of short-lived <values>[standards]
My <life> is bound <by the fundamental opinion of the majority>[a small birdcage]...

Will there ever be <an era when women are free> to escape from that cage
And take flight by their own will?

(“Good morning!!!” “Shut up!”)

The sleepyheads finally get out of bed, and another morning begins anew
They run towards me and kiss me good morning, and I hear two voices from three pairs of lips

“I love you!”
(“I told you to shut up!”)

Ah...poor angels, avoided by their parents and left in our care...
(“Angels, who?”)
They all laugh innocently, but-

All of them have severe disabilities
One in the ears, one in the eyes, and the last in the throat-
(“Who cares...”)

Ah....the mother of gentleness is not strength, but suffering
(“What?”)
And strength her daughter
(“They’re just abandoned kids..”)

Even if the <temporary nun-in-training>[girl] with little faith calls them abandoned kids
“We’ll be fine, because we have Elise-mutti!”

Oh...Lord...what purpose does love serve...
And for whom....does motherhood exist?

Oh...Lord...what purpose does life serve...
And for whom...do blood relations exist?

(“I think Saint Maria would be someone like mutti!”
“I think so too!”)

I don’t regret this at all, ah...for this is my life
Neither <a saint especially worthy of admiration>
Nor <a witch especially deserving of hatred>
I am <just a woman>[Elisabeth]

Just [someone who devotes herself to loving her neighbours who have suffered similar sadness in life][Elisabeth]

I look up to the moon in the sky at dusk...and feel a sense of nostalgia...
All of a sudden...a single <droplet>[raindrop] falls...

Translated by Defade.