There is no postman
For my himistu no letters

Secretly I fold the page into two halves
And neatly write about the trees and the stars,
Sometimes about berries and sprouts
Sometimes how you got lost in the crowd;

I have written my Himitsu no letters
And kept them folded in the hole between the walls,
I know you will never receive them.

Yet, I have written how much I love you,
Below them all.