Dear creature with eight arms, may you be so kind to spare a heart? For I've heard you've got three in your inner parts.
May you be so generous, as to give me another, for mine seems to be broken. Why, I wonder?
Dear creature with eight arms, my chest is hollow. It craves a warmth. Where did it go? Where may it be? Even I don't know.
Just one is enough. Why refuse? When you already have three, and I've lost all my muse.
May you have a heart to spare, wee one? A truce we must make under the dawning sun, for if it gets too late, another weeping may come.
Dare I travel the ocean—the one I hate so much—just to earn your trust. I promise to keep it safe this time, for I also may not live very long to shatter it once more.
Dear creature with eight arms, am I now worthy? I've done all you asked, so I kneel in your wake; desperate for a chance.
Dear creature with eight arms. I ask once more, may you be so kind to spare a heart? For I've heard you got three. May you be so generous to give one to me?
Mine seems to be broken, as you can see.