What kind of wind blew there
That made you take off your sweaty hat?
Are we now leaving the hill that we used to stare at with our sharp eyes,
That we called a dream?
Oh, life begins there-
“I am not sad. There is no more to cry.”
With a voice that is rare and strong,
“My friend who cannot fly, my friend who wears a mask!
Let’s go through the days of your messy hair.”
What is the reason I stood there blankly?
Am I lost on the pathless road?
I knew it then, but I don’t know it now.
Does another day pass on those questions?
Oh, life stops there.
“I am not sad. There is no more to cry.”
With a voice that is rare and strong,
“My friend who cannot fly, my friend who wears a mask!
Let’s go through the days of your messy hair.”
But we know. With every sigh I let out,
I recall the fluttering wings of a butterfly
The wind that blew at that moment
“I had a dream. I had a lot to laugh about.”
I spoke with a voice that was rare and strong,
“Hey, young friend, my friend who has held his breath!
Let’s get past the days of messy hair.”
I swept my hair in the blowing wind
And shook out the hem of my pants that were stained with dreams.