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(Chronicle of lovers:) He and she laugh humidly kiss light words read the feathers if he and she fragile indecisions in the usual place the usual time if she and him on Saturday after school they do it seriously the dove flies tomorrow is far away tomorrow is far away if you love me now if he and she laugh humidly kiss light words read the feathers if she and he shy humid write plane trees with engravings of sincere hearts if they say 'I love you' the park smiles the season comes if she and he clouds of desires touch each other pure The meadow breathes tomorrow is far away tomorrow is far away if you love me now
(the park:) I think I have shivers again and I let myself be taken by useless questions from poor poets about my damp branches on the last leaves what are these fragile humans thinking of what are my stupid branches for what are they for if I let myself get caught up in useless thoughts I can only exist Forever living without having the moments of young lovers of young loves for what what do these fragile humans think, what use are my stupid branches, what use are they if I let myself get caught up in useless thoughts?