strangers —

Green leaves sway under the afternoon sky, as I wonder how many airplanes have passed by. The distant murmur of the tide reaches my ears, and a passenger ship comes to rest at the harbor. This town where I live is always bustling with strangers, just as it was a hundred years ago, unchanged by time.

I’m a traveler, breathless as I run through these streets, while you’re a stranger, feeling as though you’ve been cast out from a fading, distant memory.

Even if we lose touch, I always felt that we would meet again someday, because just having that brief moment we shared is beautiful enough. A wave of nostalgia washes over me, yet I, too, am just a stranger passing through a place that will remain the same, even a hundred years from now.

You’re a traveler, for people hurt one another and comfort one another, and I’m a stranger, wishing to return somewhere, even if no such place exists. As the sunlight falls so gently, suddenly touched by sorrow in the evening calm, we are all strangers longing to return somewhere. Within this unstoppable flow of time, everything drifts away, and the setting sun is beautiful.

Detour —

If I could just go straight down this path, where would it lead me. Dreams, hopes, wishes, and prayers, such things can sometimes tear apart two people who loved each other. We watched the crimson sunset together, surely sharing the same sky even when apart. Endlessly spending time that feels so much like sorrow, letting thoughts I can never fully express wander along this detour.

“Were you sleeping? It is sunny today,” I can still almost hear your voice. Though you live only within my memories now, you still gently embrace me even today. So soar high, I do not mind being deceived over and over by moments that feel like joy. On that early afternoon, time stopped flowing for the two of us, leaving only a detour that drifts us further apart.

We watched the crimson sunset together, surely sharing the same sky even when apart. Endlessly spending time that feels so much like sorrow, letting thoughts I can never fully express wander along this detour.

trade —

I thought that affection was just an unrealistic word that I would never encounter again. A voice calling someone, a light illuminating the path ahead, I can walk on without such things, so stop the storm. Flowing away. If sorrow exists without ever disappearing throughout the ages, I shall take it upon myself. Endlessly, if loneliness exists without ever disappearing throughout the ages, I shall take it upon myself.

It irritates me that the crucial part of how to give shape to affection is always so ambiguous. A modest feeling, the approaching end, if time is limited no matter how much one struggles, show me the heartbeat. Spilling over. If they say hatred never disappears throughout the ages, I will keep smiling. Without ceasing, if it is said that desolation never disappears throughout the ages, I will keep smiling.

Without being able to tame the nature that cannot help but dwell on the days that will never return, wishing for supreme strength and turning my back on the wailing. To where he is. If sorrow exists without ever disappearing throughout the ages, I shall take it upon myself. Endlessly, if loneliness exists without ever disappearing throughout the ages, I shall take it upon myself.

Today and tomorrow —

If I could only walk toward where my heart leads, I feel that I would surely no longer be here in this place. Within love, the night is short, and romance shows us eternity.

Today, tomorrow, and beyond, what kind of thing connects them all? Reaching far out, within the sunlight filtering through the trees, there is a kindness that stirs the heart.

Though I cannot speak the words just as they come to mind, these unforgettable, powerful feelings quietly continue to live on somewhere. Every time I feel romance, I notice my heartbeat, and love touches the radiance.

Today, tomorrow, and the days I look back on, they go nowhere, they are always right there. Only my thoughts are far too free, wandering through an uncontrollable time and space.

Today, tomorrow, and beyond, what kind of thing connects them all? Reaching far out, within the sunlight filtering through the trees, there is a kindness that stirs the heart. Kindness is something that possesses thorns, shining so beautifully.

Sky Blue —

That green bus turning the corner cleverly slips through the narrow alley. Does it run freely? A white dove hiding on the veranda, I wonder how much of the world it has seen. Is it all according to a script? Even the memories that turned twisted, I hold them so close and dear. Falling into the distortion that begins to spin together with you, swallowed by the sheer comfort.

Wipe away your tears, do a back-flip on the bar, slipping through the gaps to peek at the sky blue. Wielding a toy sword and getting yourself hurt, that version of you is in the distant past. Tomorrow we will ride the wind, just depends on the mood.

Looking back, we are full of flaws. Without a single doubt, if only we could dream foolishly. Tomorrow we will again be caught by that comfort. It is just a meaningful way to kill time. The power to convey, using it to the fullest until it bursts. A little mischief is fine, kind words, sad stories, even the things we hate. Yes, all of them.

Wipe away your tears, do a back-flip on the bar, slipping through the gaps to peek at the sky blue. Let us go chasing after it, a meaningless future. We are going to paint it with colors added after the fact. A nostalgia we will never forget. Tomorrow we will ride the wind, just depends on the mood.