Please play not with my delicate heart,
Since my heart is wholly in your hands.
You are the caretaker of my whole being –
You decide whether I live or die,
As time passes by.
But be merciful my beautiful surgeon
And let me live once more.
Brandishing your knife with anger,
You cut deep into my heart.
Ouch! I do wonder if this surgery
Is being undertaken under anesthesia;
Perhaps your anesthetic drugs
Couldn’t stop my ruthless pains.
Or are these fatal wounds in a row
Coming from Prince Cupid’s arrow?
That wouldn’t be a tough row to hoe
Since you alone can bridge and narrow
Them before the sun rises morrow.
Oh my heart’s doctor!
Would I be able to live at all
When this surgery is over?
Even if I live –
Will I be able to live a normal life?
Oh! The mender of my heart!
Please tell me something
For I am very frightened and nervous
Oh! Tell me something my life owner
You’re now the giver of my life –
You determine whether I live or die.
Please, the thermometer is slowly reading,
And the drip which seemed endless is ending,
Hear the distant siren puffing and humming,
The lanky hands of the clock is tick – tocking,
And all too soon, everything seems a-running,
But the euphoria in this theatre is laxing,
And my body is paling,
For I am about fainting,
My pulse is fading,
My limbs are perpetually trembling,
But you seem not caring,
To have any feeling,
For an innocent heart a-dying.
Won’t you mend my broken heart?
Can a broken heart be mended at all?
I am frail and frightened
I cannot think straight
I am going insane –
Perhaps the disease has eaten deep into my brain
I am bleeding through my eyes
Oh! My tears have turned red wine
To intoxicate me day and night
And stain the sheet during my late night’s pine
My tender crimson heart oozes red blood
To paint you a lovely red Rose
Oh my heart’s doctor!
Even just a spark of smile from your red lips
Can give me an immortal hope
For I need you by my side all day
Please, never and ever tell me, no way.
My heart is rhythmically rhyming
Please, put off your coy timing
Since the irregular beats of your heart’s ringing
Is but your imaginary consummation
Yes! You’re my ordained heart’s surgeon
Who after my heart’s operation
Would make it look like its maiden creation.