1. Many a night I stayed up waiting for our meeting
And wandered the path of the lost for so long

2. No more does yearning carry me, for after our separation
I have become sickly and frail

3. I place my heart in your hands, its pulse
I was never stingy with that innocent pulse

4. If you could but hear its pulse, you would have mercy
For the bereft cannot live long

5. Take what you will, and return to me
For I will melt in sorrow if I see a replacement