The winter sky—alone—if you look up, gently
A voice that brushes by tramples down birds
I cried only a little Those ruins grew cold
The mountain road tumbles in winding folds

In that place without seasons, what kind of sky do you see?
It seems that the white flakes here will overflow and disappear
The breeze on the ice that buries an empty heart, never ceasing,
Now even in the snow, like a distant warmth

It vanished suddenly, that tired smiling face, that twisted eye
I realized it’s the strength of a love that can’t be conveyed
Am I a coward, yearning for that moment?