Lacrima Hold back those tears! Don’t waste that precious water... I don’t see why you should fill the rivers just because you see someone’s old widow die. Don’t torment yourself. You can’t dissolve that gray cloud. Many have tried to stop the golden wings of those who must leave their prison behind. What would you achieve? Just more waste... A fallen tree, lifeless, won’t be saved by your tears. Eighty-six thousand four hundred seconds— all squandered. So hold back those tears! Fragments of time, petals of a rose— preserve them in your crimson palace. Eighty-six thousand four hundred seconds of loving—are enough