I wonder if you still remember
that we, under a tree in summer, tossed ice cream into our mouths and waited for the wind.

I wonder if you remember us saying, “This world is full of lies.
We should go looking for true values,” and laughing together.

So as not to forget it, not to let it fade away.
So that what’s left as an object would not be everything.

Teach me more words, tell me that summer is coming.
I’m drawing; what I saw with my eyes is the ghost of summer.
Your skirt sways in the wind. Let those memories slip by.
I take a shallow breath, wipe off the sweat and it feels like summer.

Have you forgotten?
When we sat under the tree in summer, there was a cloud popped out of a faraway hill.
You tried to grab at it, acting foolish with your hand hitting thin air.
I draw a cloud on a piece of paper to show you and grasped it with a laugh.

So as not to forget it, not to let it fade away.
What goes down with history is not everything, so―

Just for now, without a face,
with all the words out of your mind,
you’re laughing.
Waiting for summer, we are the ghosts.
Teach me more about feelings.
Tell me what summer smells like.
I take a shallow breath.

So as not to forget it, not to let it fade away.
What touches our hearts is not everything, so―

Teach me more words.
Teach me even how to say goodbye.
You know I still see
the ghost in a flower blooming in summer.
Not words, but time.
Not time, but your heart.
I take a shallow breath, wipe off the sweat and it feels like summer.

It smells like summer.

I wonder if you still remember
that we, under a tree in summer, tossed ice cream into our mouths and waited for the wind.