“Khi anh hạ mình thì em có khóc?...” “And wilt thou weep when I am low?...”

“And wilt thou weep when I am low?...”

And wilt thou weep when I am low?
Sweet lady! Speak those words again:
Yet if they grieve thee, say not so–
I would not give that bosom pain.

My heart is sad, my hopes are gone,
My blood runs coldly through my breast;
And when I perish, thou alone
Wilt sigh above my place of rest.

And yet, me thinks, a gleam of peace
Doth through my cloud of anguish shine:
And for a while my sorrows cease,
To know thy heart hath felt for mine.

Oh lady! Blessed be that tear–
It falls for one who cannot weep;
Such precious drops are doubly dear
To those whose eyes no tear may steep.

Sweet lady! Once my heart was warm
With every feeling soft as thine;
But Beauty’s self hath ceased to charm
A wretch created to repine.

Yet wilt thou weep when I am low?
Sweet lady! Speak those words again:
Yet if they grieve thee, say not so–
I would not give that bosom pain.