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The Palm of A Tiny Hand
The Palm of A Tiny Hand
Even in this tiny hand, there could someday be strength surpassing our own
From the day I cried beneath the ripe grapes, I started to walk
Even if my hand is small, even if we're separated, we'll walk this road
And on the day that will someday come, we'll store away our best memories
Even in this tiny hand, there could someday be strength surpassing our own
Those wet cheeks reflected a number of smiles
Even if my hand is small, even if we're separated, we'll walk this road
And on the new day we too stored away our memories
[1] This is one of those hard-to-translate bits of wordplay; the word used for
"rice" here sounds the same as the word for "sail."
Transliterated by guuchan