rA lonely badly-bruised woman.Sadness comes to my eyeswith the speed that the tide is full of.
Pains tear up all these bodiesat speed of a train passing with you.
A lonely badly-bruised woman left on a platformdoes
not know art to catch up with
and I play a manly woman and begin to walk.
But I go to a room cold darkly which one, nobody wait for.
The town where you are not anymore does not have a fragment of solace.
I am lonely, and I follow the course that came.
I am desperate the moon is missing,
and the tide pulls it,
and loneliness is colored sometime by a cherry treeand sadness is green
before long and is dyed,
and to change pains into strength,
and I continue walking. In fact,
I continue walking in spite of being resignation while waiting for you.
In addition, till I become a full moon.
In addition, till I become a high tide.
While thinking of you.