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When an orange-colored moonlit night comes, I think of you,
as though the chic affectations in my words were someone else's words.

Even now, (I can remember) the pale light
that illuminated your silhouette as you suddenly glanced up (at that night's sky).

What is it I'm waiting for, in this room without you
it's just the clock's ticking, but it resonates in my sleepless heart like the sound of footsteps.
Even now I'm waiting; I stop here alone.
From where do you now see the moon we saw together on that day?

My behavior made a mimicry of laughter, even when I remember your voice.
The scene of the night when we walked around together is (now) an orange-colored photograph.

You forgave the lies that fell from the darkness and my selfishness,
but your tears, even now...

Without saying a word, time flows on;
the sky is extinguished by the light of the morning that's coming soon, like it melts away.
On that last night, no matter where it is,
only the moon looks at my deserted heart even now.

I'll keep waiting for you, no matter how far apart we are
it's just the clock's ticking, but it resonates in my sleepless heart like the sound of footsteps.
Even now I'm waiting; I stop here alone.
From where do you now see the moon we saw together on that day?

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