Yatagarasu

On the backside of the mountain, a crow cries
Flying aimlessly
Perched on the roof, whispering
Announcing someone's death

Shaking off the black wet feathers
The shadow of those who devour corpses
If five die, come again
The sound calls the calm wind of the other shore

On the roof, a crow cries
With an ugly voice
The third one who repeats
Searches for the next house

Shaking off the black wet feathers
The shadow of those who devour corpses
If five die, come again
The sound calls the calm wind of the other shore

Forget the noisy ones in your mouth
The dirty ones who forget the rules
The peak of the gods and the resentment
Fear the crying voice as a detective