"The wet sunflowers hope the future for the two of us.
They bloom kindly with calm faces, seaming to protect us, they are awaiting the coming day."
I remember you looking at the puddle, I still feel you by my side now.
The hand which scolded you, when we didn't understand each other well, still hurts.
The silence which took you showed me.
I can't call out to happiness, the revolving latern* won't let me forget the reposing day.
When I draw close to the voice, I hear and the yearning confused me.
Recall and reflect upon the little by little merging day.
"Don't go", I wished
The rain and separation at the end of May are the same as that day.
They wet and shake the second meeting.
And I will be laughed at because everything was a dream.
I can feel it when our fingertips touch, the fear of tomorrow won't become words
Rather than just embracing you, I wish that both our realities, existing in kour** hearts, will not disappear.
The days like dreams were only a few. Your last dying words are too calm and, "Please do not forget", so I hoped.
The sky after the rain at the beginning of June is the same as that day.
The sun said good-bye for a second time.
And it laughed at me because everything was a dream, a transient dream.
Today I'm living, staring at the "Barretta" which you left.
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