ポケットから手を出せないでいる [Pokette-kara Te-wo Dasenaide Iru] [English translation]

A kite hanging from a wire, torn and broken

flapping mournfully in the winter air

My hands tucked away in my pockets

A soul in a standstill, admiring the clouds in the sky

My breath forms a cloud,

which the setting sun pierces with its rays

My breath forms a cloud,

which colors pierce with all their tints

Is everything transient in this world?

Will the testaments hold good for good?

My hands tucked away in my pockets

A soul, mute and silent, expecting a snowfall

Sentiments fall on the ground, violet-tinged

Realities fall on the ground, violet-tinged

Those recurring flashes and blackouts

They appear without notice

and then disappear without a trace

Sentiments fall on the ground, violet-tinged

Realities fall on the ground, violet-tinged

My hands tucked away in my pockets

Glimpse of reflections on glass panes

My hands tucked away in my pockets

Just keeping my pace steady