Why cry? Why tell you my sorrow?

Why cry? Why tell you my sorrow?

It doesn't really matter to you that I love you.

Am I begging for a kinder farewell? Do I want

to feel the past forever alive in you?

My sorrow is the punishment of my folly,

bitter draft before the splendor of your eyes.

Today I must break the tie between us,

entering eternal absence.

That is why I weep and I so sorrowful, dear soul,

as sad as last night when we almost wept,

when the anguish of departure moved us.

Soon you'll be sleeping in a distant city

and all I will hear 'neath the heavy branches

is the fountains' monotonous lay.