A cat slumbers by a water mill
I walk, passing the brook
The sound of grass whistles, the pair dance of honeybees
A mischievous fox steals numbers from me
“Please leave them behind”
Things distort in my vision, like melted jelly beans
Even your home address changes to an unfamiliar number
Here is the countryside we once passed, and it turns into a memory
A strange step that chases an afterimage, Shall we dance?
I borrow the vision of a butterfly
Perched on the back of a gray horse
He runs, the wheat blows, the waves beat
The hungry rabbit eats my numbers
Its red eyes crying
I went away for a long time, losing my way home
I counted the nights from that lonely day, You were mine
However a flower breaks through snow, and the bears will awaken
Not counting, but being filled is a sign, Everyone knows
When the ant prepares for winter, the bird must start its journey
Not counting, but being unfilled is a sign, Life goes on