Megumi Mori

When it's spring, you, the crocus
When everyone awakes
Your pursed lips wait, for someone
You're a bud, a bud, a bud
That's your charm

You, the crocus, are the fairy of flowers
Your standing fugure is fascinating
One by one your petals
Open, open
It bewilders me

You, the crocus, capture my heart
As though you hurt my heart
That flower, emitting yellow
A foreign dream, a foreign dream
a foreign dream