It tears apart by your hand. Memory of a far day
Stop the root of the breath of sadness.
It can pierce through the breast for which it longed on love.
The empty to which tomorrow should come is seen.
to the extent that it wavers
The bird of the side fluttered.
Light was able to be found.
Oh, would you also put on your back?
And it is made desertion in the highest
place and keeps away from tenderness.
It tears apart by your hand. Memory of a far day
Stop the root of the breath of sadness.
It can pierce through the breast for which it longed on love
The bird was seen off in the twilight.
A wind pats me to the extent that it crawls on the ground.
It is not said that he wants feather.
I want to become Melissa's leaf danced in the air at least.
already Although it keeps standing fairly and being cooked
Probably there will be no answer.
There needs to be no reliance which goes also to this wind.
It locks by your hand. There is no hesitation etc.
even if it makes a mistake it never opens as
It is made to finish with the sound from which a lock falls.
A hopeless soul is passed, disappears and dies.
It shines only at the moment of disappearing.
Now The night when the moon is full is produced.
