In his own desert
he quietly builds mountains.
There, he draws a tiny river with his index finger.
A single teardrop may reach the sea
or may not reach the sea.
If tomorrow, the rain should stop,
shall he go out somewhere?
As soon as the clouds disperse,
won't he gallop out to that place?
Like giving someone a rose,
he can also do such shy things.
Like betraying someone he loves,
he can also do such cruel things.
Maybe someday, it will be as though
lies convert into truth.
一粒の涙が海に 届くかも 届かないかも