The bar goes up.

Now is the time to get across the railway crossing.

For there is a feel of the afternoon squall.

SADNESS, TENDERNESS, RESENTMENT,

ANGER, COMPASSION, SUSPICION,

BETRAYAL, AFFECTION, LOVE AND HATE,

All these emotions suddenly float up in the mid-summer afternoon,

taking their form as a sculpture

: a thunderhead.

To see the clear sky dominated by such a violent swell of the mind,

everybody gets stunned.

As if I was called to the teachers' room, hanging my head in the middle of the alley,

the roaring thunder.

The hard rain shoots nails of water.

Let all get soaked, let us fear the pebbles hitting our skin,

numberless commands.

In the meantime, we simply laugh,

and let our laughter be heard as loud as it can be,

then, we become bitterer, paler and paler.

The bar goes up.

At such time, don't you go over the crossing?

Don't you have no way but to stand still before the disappearing train?

Under this hard rain with no drops of water,

you are looking for your own shadow.

In this helpless noisy silence,

a lot of people

from nowhere

who 

don't

forgive

you

who 

get across,

or don't

get across,

you

who 

forgive 

yourselves.