As I lightly trace my finger along the cloudy glass,
Grey clouds gently come from the mountain valleys.
Without averting my eyes, I want to remain here.
I'm starting to be able to see the forgotten color of rain again.
From the west, the time announcement1's echo draws me close.
The raindrops, tiny dots, sound their accidental chords.
Their song is suddenly interrupted by the ritardando of the street--
A sound that can only be heard for the space of an eyeblink.
Without shutting my ears, I want to remain here,
Just letting my little sighs reveal themselves.
I feel like now, I finally understand--
Much more than I ever have before.
The powerful2 city dances, and sings only of trivial things.
Its people, at the mercy of the wind, come and go in a sky of dream-scented mist .
The powerful city dances, and sings only of trivial things.
Its days flow continuously like rapids, like downpours of falling rain.
Without averting my eyes, I want to remain here,
My absent-minded gaze staying fixed.
When I come back to myself, the tea I've been holding is a little cold3
1. An announcement of the current time which is broadcast from a loudspeaker. Quite common in Japan.2. The word Ichiko uses here, 千早振る chihayafuru, has a slightly murky meaning. It's a pillow word that's used in classical Japanese poetry which is usually taken to mean 'exhibiting power'. 'Powerful' is a little more boring but I wanted to keep the flow of the text.3. She doesn't really say anything after 'little', but the text implies the tea's gotten cold while she was in her reverie, so take it or leave it as you like.