It tickles my face.
The wind, blowing violently
Blow the beautiful braid you just tied.
Blow away the beautiful new headrope.
The wind, blowing gently.
Blow away my whispers
Blow away the wolf in my forehead dream.
Only the lovely little red riding hood and kind grandmother were left.
The wind is blowing warmly.
Melted a cold hard heart.
Blow up the new green of the grass brothers.
Blow the gorgeous floret.
Blow up the hard work of brother bee.
Wake up the busy butterfly sister.
The wind is blowing in a hurry.
With a happy itch on his face.
I brought my beautiful new headband.
Brought the wolf of my dreams.
Blow it to a deserted place.
Leave everything you take with you.
The wind has stopped.
Everything seems to have returned to its original state.
I don't think so
Because I feel the happy itch on my face.
There are also tears because of the loss of beautiful braids and hair bands.
Because there are no wolves in the dream.
Because ... the beautiful scenery outside.
Hard-working bee brothers.
And busy butterfly sister.