I grew fond of that large window, because I could see the lake from it.
When May comes, flowers bloom… everywhere the eye can see!
I expect that anyone seeing it would pass it by, thinking it not so uncommon,
But treasures are hidden in the most trivial of things.
A song of love that no one knows and that isn’t written down anywhere –
One that only I know the existence of: a box I’ll never open again.
Water birds swim amidst tranquility.
Within the hazy, white morning mist, those lost children dance;
When they open their eyes, they grasp proof that they were not a dream.
Once put it to words, the colors become lustrous, and this song of love takes command –
That melody changes me: a sweet, sad sound.
The touch of a cold hand… eyes that inspire compassion…
Please don’t take from me the things that person gave to me…
… the proof that I’m not a dream.
If no one knows of something, and it can’t be seen, would you say it has no meaning?
As long as I remember it, that song is right here!
A song of love that no one knows and that isn’t written down anywhere –
One that only I know the existence of: a box I’ll never open again.