Lyrics: Aimerrhythm
Music: AlbatoLuce
English Translation: Fenny (@thefantasyfen)
長い雨に遠ざかる声
足を止めて町を眺める
煙る空がどこか綺麗で
懐かしい場所に変わって
いつも傍にいてくれたよね
俄雨に立ち尽くす日も
不意に浮かぶ過ぎた景色と
木陰の下 雨宿り
小さくて幼いそれまるで
泣き虫な誰かみたいで
四月の雨 濡れた羽
ひばりはまだ飛べずにいる
浅い春の冷たさに
身をすぼめて 時を待ち続ける
日差しの種 淡い夢
羽ばたくまで
唄を添えて
遠い空の切れ間へと
5月の花の名を 今は知らずに
長い影と呼びかける声
時を止めて星を見た夜
眠る前に交わした言葉
失くしたくないものばかり
小さくて幼いそれはいつも
泣いていた 傍にいたくて
失くせないもの増えるたび
暖かさに沈んでゆく
通り雨の冷たさに
身をすぼめて 歩き出せずにいる
譲れないもの一つだけ
鞄の中仕舞い込んで
今でもまだ覚えてる
右手の温もりと 唄を頼りに
遠く響く雷鳴には
春の嵐の手招きの音
いつか ここで 同じ景色を見てた
四月の雨 風に揺れる
ひばりは今 空を見上げ
浅い春の冷たさに
身を委ねて 羽を広げてゆく
ゆずれないもの一つだけ
鞄の中仕舞い込んで
遠い空の切れ間へと
花咲く五月へと
傘もささずに
Upon hearing the fading voice in the middle of the rain
I stopped walking to gaze upon the city
The hazy sky is turning into
somewhere beautiful and nostalgic
You have always stayed by my side, you even
stood still on days when the rain pours unceasingly
even as scenery floated past unexpectedly
under the shelter of the trees
The small and young something is just like
someone who cries easily
The lark is still unable to fly
as its wings were drenched by the April Showers
In the cold of early spring
it furls its body, awaiting the passing of time
Just as this dream with subdued colours
is adorned by seeds of sunlight,
I will adorn the lark with poems until its wings could flap again
and it can fly to the distant skies
without knowing the name of the flower in May
A long shadow and a voice calling out to me,
the night I stopped time and saw the stars,
words exchanged before going to sleep,
these are all the things I do not want to lose
The small and young something
is always crying, wanting to stay by my side
When the things you can’t afford to lose ever increases
submerge everything in warmth
In the coldness of the passing rain
it furls its body, and stayed still
The one thing I can’t afford to lose
is buried inside my bag
Even now, as I depend on a song
I can still remember the warmth of your right hand
The distant echo of booming thunder
is the sound of the beckoning spring storm
I will see the same scenery here someday
The April Shower is swayed by the wind
The lark is now looking at the sky
In the cold of early spring
It spreads its wings in abandon
The one thing I can’t afford to lose
is buried inside my bag
I head on to the distant skies and
I head on into the month of May, where flowers bloom
without opening my umbrella
Lyrical Journeys 