I made a rainbow, when I reached out for it, it vanished.
holding the tin watering can loosely, I stood motionless in the early afternoon.
What was the name… of this tall white flower?
As if it was forgotten at the corner of my eye, it bloomed.
In my fading and hazy memory the one thing I remember is that forgotten flower.
And when was that day I wet these wounds,
when the scenery got blurred out but that swaying flower remained in focus
And when was that day I lied to myself,
when the flower swayed in time as if singing with the wind.
One day I suddenly noticed,
that it was always there right next to me swaying and white.
For whose sake? For what reason?
When you lose your reason for living.
When you forget your own worth.
Look, you can see the white swaying flower.
The one thing we can remember is the swaying flower that never snaps
I made a rainbow, I wanted to touch it at least once.
When we grew up we scoffed at our dreams and hopes.
but, unbeknownst to us, we’re doing the same thing,
even after we’ve grown up, we’re making rainbows and reaching out for them.
I ask those people moving through all those scenes,
“What motivates you these days? What color is it? Where is it located?”
I dropped my dreams somewhere
I put a great distance between them and my hopes.
Look, the swaying white flower is still there
I never noticed that I knew its color and location.
I made a rainbow, one day the flower wilted.
and all I saw from the corner of my eye was countless puddles of water.
Something important wilted, without a sound.
I filled the tin watering can with tears…
I’m still
making rainbows. Doing it over and over again as if I can’t let go.
Even though I knew it I couldn’t touch it, I still reached out.
This tall white flower had a name.. didn’t it?
When it wilted I realized that it had bloomed for me.
I realized when it was too late, dropping my head,
my eyes caught sight of a small bud in a puddle, a new bud.
I found the purpose in my life again
and my self worth was born.
A flower that wilts, but never wilts forever blooms,
its roots deep inside me.
Look, the white swaying flower here
I never noticed and I forget its name
If its swaying inside me,
it must be my unshakable faith, swaying without ever snapping.
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