太陽の羽化 [English translation]

The cluster of silvergrass beckons, as if it has gone mad.

The sunlight is tinged red. Summer exposes things that can't be photographed.

That is, the soon to arrive eclosion of the sun.

Sewing life as a state onto a bonnet,

I transport my body along a white line someone has drawn.

Depression clining to the scenery. At that moment my memories cramped.

I cut my finger on a seashell buried in the desert.

It's coming again today. A sad omen of a dark color.

It's finally here, the eclosion of the sun.

But, only on one side was there a wing missing.

If it's seasons, they've gone and left just now.

They've left this dull song behind.

We were separated so far from each other,

a distance so far we'll never make it back again.

I've given up on it floating in the sky.

The sun lit up the city.

Today, when I stopped starting anything--

I acted like it was just any other day.