Today, because it started to rain,
breaking my promise, I was at home, mmm.
Sorry, it's not that I hate you.
I don't know why I wanted to do that.
I tried decorating with a single blossom,
which a tear-like drop quietly trickled down.
I'm glad I'm not a red poppy;
I don't feel like blooming innocently.
That insignificant flower is like me.
Silently, I pray alone.
You know, when we join both hands,
it's selfish to think of God, mmm.
But, he should explain to me
at least the reason for this misery.
If I were reborn as a flower,
I'd prefer canary yellow petals.
Being a red poppy up on the hill,
I'd gaze at the wind and chat.
Leaving my sigh that day to the stars,
like a child, I want to bloom.
I'm glad I'm not a red poppy;
I don't feel like blooming innocently.
That insignificant flower is like me.
Silently, I pray alone.