My dear,
I don't know where you lie,
I don't know if you're already asleep,
But in order not to die, at least I shall weep.
I weep for you, my boy:
My hair, my heart are full of woe,
I am but Cupid's toy, and he's playing of loving you so.
A sad game, you see:
The maiden in her deathbed
She's crying “ay, love me!”, he’s leaving her instead.
I dreamt a dream, dun dear
Of your emerald eye and your coal hair,
But as I woke up, laid here
You had stayed there.
I prayed a prayer, o hunter,
The prayer of a prey:
That in my next dream
Here you’ll may lay.
And when you and I meet
And here and there are same,
Beautiful as in a lie,
From sorrow I shain’t weep
But from joy may die.