The girl with the strong pride and short height
Who had childhood pain but was bright and funny
What was the struggling girl’s dream?

We didn’t ask about her deep feelings inside
She was expected to know my heart
But her dreams were ignored

Her memory, I’m late but I’m finally opening my ears
Her memory, lost many things but only look at me
I love you, with those late whispers in her ears
I couldn’t catch her going away

The one photo of our garden in our house that had many butterflies
That spring, that face, I remember, the small and old wings flapping

Her memory, it tells me what happened that day long ago
Her memory, the true feelings that she never told me
I love you, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you back then
But it’s my habit these days, I love you

The memory, I’m late but I’m finally opening my ears
The memory, I miss her so much, I’m asking the same things
I love you, though it’s too late
I can’t hold back my habits these days, I love you