My heart, and its key,
They are in your hands.
And its mornings, and nights,
They ask about you.
Oh, my heart and its keys,
Those belong to you.
Your love was a candle lighting up my days,
And what extinguished it was my tears,
From the day you held my hand,
It is as though you told the fire to burn.
If you are so busy, you could have just told me,
For now my heart is hurt,
From the look in your eyes,
And its days and nights,
Ask for and about you.
My heart, and its keys,
Those belong to your hands.
You, who feels no sympathy for even loved ones,
And whose love is an ocean,
With high tides,
The sweet words you speak to me,
Would burn, coming from anyone but you.
Tell me, what did my heart do to you?
Why do you treat it this way?
It misses the joy of being missed by you,
And its days and nights are spent inquiring about you.
My heart, and its keys,
Those belong to your hands.
Oh, my beloved, how I wish I could be your beloved.
And that I could be your fate,
For no matter what, I will be happy and satisfied with you,
And my soul would leave me before I leave you.
My aching heart, darling,
And my eyes, too, darling,
Have left me, and are lovesick,
And ask about you day and night.
My heart, and its keys..
Those belong to your hands.