The name "Tokyo" may ring a bell, 

One of the best known cities, from what I can tell.

It's a shame that no one talks about southern Japan,

beautiful and full of temples that are quite grand. 

Take a plane to Tokyo, then a ferry to Osaka.

Then a bus ride to Matsuyama and a train elsewhere.

The train will eventually stop at the end of its tracks,

where I'll take a taxi to my hometown Saijo, 

a name that rings no bell. 

Born next to a rice field, 

and growing up in a rice field, 

growing older seemed implausible. 

No matter how far I walked,

I was surrounded by only rice fields.

I thought my town was a Neverland. 

In the winter, the rice fields dried up. 

In the spring, tractors ruled the tilled fields.

In the summer and autumn,

Every meal was a fresh bowl of rice. 

Never did the crops grow taller than the year before.

Watching the rice fields in winter,

Counting the days,

Every year, the dried up fields

Lasted for about 90 days.

160 days was how long the rice fields would thrive

Every year, like the last,

Never did the crops grow taller than the year before.

I thought I grew like the rice field.

Sleepy in the winter, active in the sun.

I didn’t think I would grow older and taller

Or change throughout the year.

That’s how things were until I moved abroad.

After a year, I’d come back to my Neverland, at last.

When I took a taxi to my homeland Saijo,

I realized that the rice fields seemed shorter than before.

I had left my Neverland far behind.

I had grown up into a lady, while

Never did the crops grow taller than the year before.

Now I’ve accepted that I grow with the season but also with the years.

I’ll keep growing into a woman and still watch the fields grow.

While every year, like the last,  

Never will the crops grow taller than the year before.