07 - Harukaze (Spring Breeze)

I pass the spring breeze on my white bicycle.
In my sky-blue shirt, I soar down to my first town.

Saying that you didn't to be separated, you cried.
Your arms clung to me.
The cherry blossoms are being scatters, the two of us from that day are also being scattered.

The pale red blossoms swaying along the railroad tracks.
A shopping street lined with rusted signs.
I thought I saw your form on the other side of the railroad crossing.
I pedal. You can't be there. The wind is blowing past.
The light is shimmering. It's a warm day.

The sun was shining in the west through the window in the white wall.
The room full of cardboard boxes is colored orange.

I leaned agains boxes filled with determination, loneliness, a little hope.
The light from the TV and my shadow, unaware of the sparrows chirping.

I run along this unfamiliar road
until my bicycle and shoelaces are the color of the city
On the way up the hill, I thought I heard you calling me.
I turn around, but you're not there, the wind has passed.
A light purple wind passed by.

I guess everything is changing.
This town, this dream, the time you were here.
I can only look back,
Because I've passed that place and I've started walking on.

A beautiful spring breeze passes through the town.
Along the railroad tracks, rows of swaying leafy cherry trees,
And I'm turning around again today.
I remember you in the middle of a long hill, walking home with no way to help.
A dusk-colored wind passes by.