I knew it from the beginning. So I'm not sad.
Little by little, little by little. It's as counting numbers.
The colors of dying plants get blurred. I don't find out the end of a season.
The day, which traces footsteps, reads the day, which listens to footprints
It is common that I cannot change tomorrow if I don't have any wishes.
I follow the sound of dying plants. And I feel the end of a season.
When the flowers are blooming, what will be left on my hand?
The moon closes the curtain. But the sun shines on me.
I knew it from the beginning. So I'm not sad.
Even if I wake up and the night doesn't end. And even if there are no shiny stars there.
Even if the all lights in the town vanish...
I saw enough of the happy face of the one I should protect and the end of the one I loved.
So I am satisfied with it.
Song of the sheep in dark long night