May Buddha let us meet.
In my best days,
I prayed for it.
For 500 years.
Buddha made me a tree.
On the road you may choose,
In the blooming flowers, I wait in the sun.
Every flower carries my previous hopes.
Please listen carefully when you approach.
The trembling leaves are my passion for waiting,
When you pass that tree.
Didn't notice me,
My friend, on the ground behind you.
Not falling petals, but my withered heart.
I can't speak Japanese.