She was sobbing and sighing
And was asking terfully,
Do you love me, do love me?
Sobbing and sighing
And asking she wailfully,
Do you love me, love me?
So pathetic was it to see, so painful was it to view,
But who make it understand the foolish heart
That true love is rare, rarer so much?
But instead of, she went on crying,
The handkerchief of hers wet with,
A girl in tears, simple and innocent soul, saw I in tears
Asking the lord to be kind enough to her
So the poor soul may rest and peace of mind
And wisdom prevailed upon
Yea, a change of heart took place
As said he running to,
I love you, love you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem