And let my hapless dust be buried here,

Not near the dust of him who's dear to you,

Not on this spot - not near - but some way off,

There - at the very threshold - at the gate,

That there, in passing, you might touch my grave

With your light foot or with your garment's hem

Whene'er you come to bow your curly head

Upon this haughty monument and weep.

DONA ANNA. You've surely lost your senses.

DON JUAN. - Dona Anna,

To wish for death - is that a sign of madness?

Were I a madman, then would I be fain

To stay among the living, I'd have hope

Some day to touch your heart with tender love;

Were I a madman, I would spend the nights

Below your window and disturb your sleep

With serenades; I would not hide myself.

But, on the contrary, I'd strive to be

Oberved by you wherever I might go;

Were I a madman, I'd refuse to suffer

In silence...

DONA ANNA. SO you call this silence, then?

DON JUAN. Chance, Dona Anna, carried me away;

For otherwise, you never would have learned

Of this, the gloomy secret of my heart...

DONA ANNA. And have you then been long in love with

me?

DON JUAN. How long I've been in love I do not know.

But only since that hour I've known the value

Of this brief life, yes, only since that hour

I've understood what happiness could mean.

DONA ANNA. Begone! Begone! You are a dangerous

man.

DON JUAN. Dangerous! How?

DONA ANNA. - I fear to listen to you.

DON JUAN. Then I'll be silent; only do not send