The scent of summer has returned
Though the winter sun still glistens upon the ice.
A strange sense of Nostalgia arises again---
I am stricken.
The flavour of our favourite ice cream
Burns my tongue with its salty sweetness.
And on the beach are strange new faces.
We have yet to meet.
Through the half-opened window there echoes
A song that was once very familiar to our ears.
The tune ceases; the fading melody suddenly disappears.
It is silent.
I listen still, but now I hear the sound of the last cicada,
Its shrill cries shatters my dream, and I am awaken now.
The scent of summer has returned
Though the winter sun still glistens upon the ice.
A strange sense of Nostalgia arises again---
It is over.
The flavour of our favourite ice cream
Has long been washed from my mouth.
And tonight the beach is vacant; not a single soul.
Where were we then?
Outside the window is the same face of town.
This is the place I have called home, but where am I now?
All the places that we went to do not quite feel the same.
I am here without a name.
I do not cast a shadow in this wonderful world,
And in this everlasting twilight I close my eyes.
The magic of sunset that I now see...
Is just a simulated memory.