Like crying in the middle of a smile smeared with perspiration,
no one can tell, so that is why i don't know about your tears
It is still burning, lighting up my heart, this that i have received from you:
the tender light, your proof of unconditional love
While being enveloped by the gentle rays of the sun, i whisper into your back,
"A day like this will come again,
surely, surely, surely, you will believe so too."
Withering and blossoming, this year too, the flower beds are waiting for me.
The petals dances in the wind, and my pelm can't held on to them,
as they land gently on the shoulders, skillfully riding it
and showing the same smile that i remember you by.
In the valley of buildings, sometimes buried dreams bud too.
Isn't that what makes the flowers bloom?
We can't choose where our dreams will blossom.
The allhouettes we cast on this town are all looking for the light,
even as time overlaps and flows over itself,
surely, surely, surely the day when we will overcome must arrive.
On the breezeless track, the beautiful sky of May feels blue and lonely,
the unmoving scattered clouds still always stay floatlag.
There is no place i can return to anymore.
"Just like me", whispered the wind as my tears trickled down.
On the verge of falling, the re-opening petals seemed just like you,
giving time and again to these bands that group at their silent encouragements.
Withering and blossoming, this year too the flower bud is waiting for me.
Even now i still can't catch the dreams you painted,
stopping right beside me opening gracefully just like a smile,
I keep looking for the flower and is the sky.
