The wind, that hill
The days of my memories, I’m filling them up white
The tip of her blue skirt flies with the memories like a butterfly
She was fluttering

Am I longing for you? Or for me, back then?
You remain as a picture in a corner of my dulled heart
If your face keeps fading away
Does that mean I’m becoming an adult?

The sky, the dusk
Back then I knew what time it was without looking at the clock
Youth, on its dazzling end
The distance between the clock hands is so short
Sometimes I’m afraid

Am I longing for you? Or for me, back then?
You remain as a picture in a corner of my dulled heart
If your face keeps fading away
Will I be able to forget those times?
I long for it so much