(儚き春の一幕) Hakanaki Haru No Ichimaku

Passing in front of my eyes, the whisper of a distant wind
Even the burning cheeks turned even redder when you looked back

The good spring, the small spring breeze
In the season of self-indulgent love

Afraid of the wind, you dug a hole for a bicycle
The gently sloping hillside reflects the view, the blue town grows hazy

Surely, that day you were wearing a blue-colored blouse
Next to me, you picked a flower, smiled

The fleeting distance of spring melts into your fleeting heart