In the village of peach blossoms,
Which used to be as peaceful as could get,
A hundred years after found,
A great war broke out.
Between the high and mighty Duke,
And the once peaceful immortal Lord.
Over a pretty little girl,
Born from the trees.
But when accidentally killed,
The blossoms turned brown.
All were in despair,
And wept until their blood drained out.
The Lord and Duke,
Finally allied.
To pay homage to their maiden,
Whether dead or alive.
A great shrine was made,
At the south of town.
And it was named,
'Shrine of the Peach Maiden.'
With every person who visits there,
A peach blossom turned pink.
Every time the Lord or Duke visited it,
A new tree grew.
Every fourth of July,
The day the maiden dies,
Her soul still haunts,
Over the miserable folk.