Morning ticket gates, a river of people
Departure melodies ringing without pause
At the whistle's signal the doors slide shut
Today again, small journeys begin
A stranger's shoulder brushes mine
Touching, parting — a morning that ends there
Here it is: those who go and those who return
Parting only to meet again
Known and unknown, passing each other by
This place is truly the Gate of Meeting Hill
Today again, someone sets out on a journey
March wind, a one-way ticket
Clutched tight as I boarded the train
My mother waving on the platform
Growing smaller past the moving window
My father, who never showed a tear
Stood in the corner, shoulders trembling
Here it is: those who go and those who return
Clutching a single ticket
Known and unknown, through the same doors
We pass, transferring from life to life
This place is truly the Gate of Meeting Hill
A thousand years ago, at a mountain checkpoint
A blind poet played his biwa
Listening to the footsteps come and go
He turned the whole human world into song
When I close my eyes, I can hear it too
The crowds of that day, the crowds of today
Here it is: those who go and those who return, parting
Known and unknown — the Gate of Meeting Hill
A gentle wind before the first-train station
My son's back disappearing through the gates
Under one roof, we only passed each other
My shoulders trembled for all those days as well
Everyone, inside their own story
Opens the door to tomorrow once again
Here it is: those who go and those who return
People grow kinder with every parting
Known and unknown, we are all travelers
So I sing the miracle that we ever met
This place is truly the Gate of Meeting Hill
Praying you travel safe, until we meet again
The Gate of Meeting Hill...
The Gate of Meeting Hill...
