One cup
Two cups
Three cups and my hands stop shaking
A corner of the tavern, a seat where I sit alone
The seat beside me is always empty
People look at my hands, never at my eyes
Three bowls of rice wine, that's what makes the blade light
Two today, one yesterday
I don't know their names, no need to know
One sheet of paper with the magistrate's seal
That's all, that's my job
Mangnani — the name people call me
Mangnani — my father was one too
The blade is heavy and the wine is light
The night is long — and there is no name
As a boy I went to the village school too
Heaven, earth, I memorized it all
But they said letters are no use to a butcher's son
So I took my father's blade
At the market the children throw stones
Mothers cover their children's eyes
But those nobles, that magistrate, those rich men
At night they send me wine
To say thank you, and to say keep quiet
I didn't kill anyone
The paper killed them
The seal killed them
I am just — the hand
Mangnani — the name people call me
Mangnani — my father was one too
The blade is heavy and the wine is light
The night is long — and there is no name
Tomorrow another sheet of paper
Tomorrow another three bowls
Someone has to do this work
Don't ask me why it's me
When I open the tavern door and step out
People clear the road
The road opens faster than for a king
That's the only noble treatment I get
One cup
Two cups
Three cups