誰も座っていないベンチ
Dare mo suwatte inai benchi
An empty bench
I hold your hand. We sit on that bench over there.
As you look at the horizon, you tell me about your life that I don't know, the lips kissed by the late afternoon sun, the hair moved by the caress of a gentle breeze.
I listen in silence, enraptured, choking my breath not to miss a single inflection of your voice, as I pray that this moment lasts forever.
You turn, give me a shy smile and I fall into the beautiful, infinite vastness of your eyes.
The bench of my heart is still there, empty for so long that I have forgotten what happiness means.