Love is the end of the century; this is my conclusion, this warm feeling.
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Certainly, if I were to lose you, I would never want to fall in love again.
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Among everyone in the world, I've kept searching for you -- the partner whom I love and am loved by;
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it was like counting the unceasing tears that were shed.
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My heart was waiting and yearning with an agitated rhythm, my love;
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you're starting to feel its pulse too, aren't you?
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You, so easily hurt, are everything to me;
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if it seems like we fight, even with suffering, always, you're the one.
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Always, in the middle of wind blowing against me, I keep feeling these overflowing feelings.
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Even to the opposite side of the world, I'll keep moving toward where your love is.
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In my dreams, I want to keep holding you forever, just like this.
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The crescent moon that floated on the waves rushes the night that only we two share.
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It's all right just to continue like this; I want strong bonds, my love.
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There is nothing that can replace you; you look dazzling to me.
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Time gradually let us draw closer to togetherness.
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Now I understand that precious significance: you're the one.
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Love is the end of the century; this is my conclusion, this warm feeling.
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Gazing across at just that same moment, let's keep on living facing each other.
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Love is the end of the century; this is my conclusion, this warm feeling.
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Use rusted common sense's key; our love looks mature.
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Even if this star disappears, you'll still see how I keep loving you.
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If you feel sad, if you feel conflict, when you want to cry, I'll be there.
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