Falling leaf returns to its branch;

Dancing snow flies up to its cloud;

Evaporative water turns into droplets;

Eyes blowback endless tears;

Pens erase all the writing;

the cock crows for the polar night;

And you are missing me.

Pink sakura blooms back to buds;

Green shoots germinate nothing;

Big smiles withdraw from our face;

Under that tree,

Where we first met,

Soft wind breezes,

Sweet sun shines for nothing.

And you are missing me.

Ripe apple grows into a bud;

Orange sunset sucks back its lights;

The silver tide returning at dust,

The golden moon falling in the east,

Hands apart,

Hearts separate,

Kisses disappear,

In this white, board, mystical beach;

And you are missing me.

Cold winter changes to autumn;

Decayed leaves alive;

The biting, arid wind stops;

Hush,

Listen to this dead awkward silence;

Rude words return back to my mouth;

Huge fight disappears into nothing;

Stupid enmity is killed before saying it;

Suspicious behavior is covered by caress;

True heart exposes sincerely;

Maybe you are missing me.

Maybe you are missing me.

The second spring,

Sakura blooming,

The illusory year pasts,

You have never been with me.

I don’t want to see you;

I don’t want to miss anything;

I am a strong, independent woman;

I will apologize to nothing.

But what are you mourning for, girl?

Why are you crying?

When does the pink flower die in the bleak winter?

What are you regretting?

If,

If life can be rewinding,

You will be missing me, 

Just like I do,

Just like I am missing,

Missing the old time,

Missing the lost fairy tale,

Missing the tree, the moon, the beach

Missing

—you.

And you are missing me. 

And you are missing me.