The more I think of you, the farther away you seem
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Echoing through the shadowy patterns, the cicada's rain
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When I write poetry, love overflows without end
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What blooms is a flower, a dream
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That is, that is, to the other side of time
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Faintly, faintly, still fleetingly
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It will likely vanish like bubbles
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Repeating as I search for fragments
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The more I think of you, the farther away you seem
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Echoing through the shadowy patterns, the cicada's rain
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(Cicada's rain, cicada's rain ...)
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When I write, love overflows without end
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What I long for is the heavens, the rainy clouds
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That is, that is, on the calm surface of the water
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Pure, pure, not yet gone
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In every fleeting moment, it continues to tighten my heart
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Carried by the wind, returned to the sky
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The hydrangeas along the rainy path
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Bloom proudly, infused with colors of affection
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Suddenly, at the sound that grazes my ear,
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I stop in my tracks and turn back...
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Repeating as I search for fragments
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The more I think of you, the farther away you seem
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Echoing through the shadowy patterns, the cicada's rain
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