Today, because it started to rain,
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breaking my promise, I was at home, mmm.
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Sorry, it's not that I hate you.
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I don't know why I wanted to do that.
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I tried decorating with a single blossom,
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which a tear-like drop quietly trickled down.
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I'm glad I'm not a red poppy;
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I don't feel like blooming innocently.
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That insignificant flower is like me.
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Silently, I pray alone.
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You know, when we join both hands,
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it's selfish to think of God, mmm.
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But, he should explain to me
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at least the reason for this misery.
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If I were reborn as a flower,
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I'd prefer canary yellow petals.
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Being a red poppy up on the hill,
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I'd gaze at the wind and chat.
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Leaving my sigh that day to the stars,
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like a child, I want to bloom.
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I'm glad I'm not a red poppy;
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I don't feel like blooming innocently.
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That insignificant flower is like me.
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Silently, I pray alone.
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