Away from thee I never weep nor sigh,
And lose I not my mind when thou art nigh.
But if for a while I have no word with thee,
There’s something missing, someone I must see.
I wonder, yearning thus for days on end:
Art thou my love or maybe just a friend?

When thou hast gone, I cannot in my mind
Recall thy face though gentle so and kind.
However, oft I feel, yet wish it not,
That it is somewhere really near my thought.
And all these doubts of mine may never end:
Art thou my love or maybe just a friend?

I suffered much, but reckoned not, as yet,
To go and let thee know my sad regret.
With no idea where my feet should go,
How come I find thy house I do not know;
And neither at thy door my doubts may end:
Art thou my love or maybe just a friend?

To save thy health, my life I would expend;
To grant thee peace, to Hell I would descend.
Though in my heart no bold desires I nest,
Do know that I would be thy health and rest.
But still these doubts of mine may never end:
Art thou my love or maybe just a friend?

And when thy hand lies gently in my palm,
My mind grows quiet, and my soul is calm;
Meseems my life may in this sleep depart,
But wakes me up the beating of thy heart,
And thus return my doubts that know no end:
Art thou my love or maybe just a friend?

Composing this my song for thee, my mind
Was not to any bardic mood inclined;
I am amazed myself, it baffles me
How I have found the thoughts and rhymes for thee,
To finally write these doubts that may not end:
Art thou my love or maybe just a friend?