  IF you’ve nothing, dear, to tell me, Why, each morning passing by, With your sudden smiles compel me, To adore you, then repel me, Pretty little neighbor, why? Why if you have naught to tell me, Do you so my patience try? If you’ve nothing sweet to teach me, Tell me why you press my hand? Of my sins, or even preach me Sermons hard to understand; But if you have naught to teach me, Dear, your meaning I demand! If you wish me, love, to leave you, Why forever walk my way? Then, when gladly I receive you, Wherefore do I seem to grieve you? Must I then, in truth, believe you Wish me, darling, far away? Do you wish me, love, to leave you? Pretty little neighbor, say! Translated from Wegener. |
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