I am the one who mends broken shoes
I have also mended thousands of hearts
I am the nightingale sitting on a stump of a crematorium
Which wants to bring its music to your ears
Light years away from you
In your city full of fireflies
I am that weather-beaten creature
Whose soul
Beats with your soft and
Extremely beautiful name
I remember you
And I join in the wait for the next spring!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem