It’s Okay

It’s Okay
It’s Okay
the snowflakes fall in heaps,
embracing even the sound of baby pheasants and quails
returning to their nests.

It’s Okay
It’s Okay
the snowflakes fall like fluffy cotton,
embracing even the sound of young girls with rosy cheeks
returning to their nests.

It embraces even the sound of all the fortunes returning home,
the crying,
the laughing,
the burdened ones
now getting up strongly.

To the big ones, big tear traces,
to the small ones, small laugh lines;
the sound of big stories and small stories
returning home, whispering softly.

It’s Okay
It’s Okay
the snowflakes fall constantly,
embracing even the sound of many mountains–
the Blue Mountains* returning home.