I'll cry.

I just look wistfully at you who are in a showcase.

The other side space which I am not allowed even to touch.

And a glass separates me and you.
Though I say to myself that it is just as well.

My heart starts to break, and can not keep the self-discipline.

But there is nothing I can do.
Even if I shatter the glass and achieve a meeting with you,

I can never make you happy.

I'm sure I'll cry about myself.
And I'll make you sad about me.

My crooked feeling that want to hurt nobody hurt everybody after all.
In other words, It's me that I do not want to be hurt by me.
How selfish can I be?


I just stand rooted to the spot with
my back to you who twitter in the dark.

The other side space which I used to go down to
and regard as my living place.

A thin curtain exists between you with me.
Though I say to myself that it is just as well.

My ardor starts to overflow, and can not keep the self-discipline.

But there is nothing I can do.
Even if I burst and tear the curtain and seek your trail,

I can only be your foulness.

I'm sure I'll cry because of your aspect.
And I'll make you sad because of my aspect.

If I do things like encourage you, it lets surely you feel a duty and a load.
So, I feel a burning in another meaning without urging.
I can't say even one word.

Still, there is nothing I can do.
Though it should be the admonition for it.
At the very end,

I will become nothing more than fetters of you.


I'm sure I'll cry about you.
And I'll make you cry about me.

Each time the distance between us gets near through a series of small accumulation,
the indescribable sorrow standing between us get greater.

Have a heart,
Have a heart and
please let me be here until the last minute
which allows me to be in the same position now.
I beg you.
And let me say I'm sorry.