Cupid, you wing'd fool,
you convinced me,
love was real,
but you don't shoot straight,
messing with love,
you imp,
you laugh and mock,
Is this all for your pleasure?
Make love seem there,
but never it 'twas,
break the heart,
or are these short-lived loves meant to lead,
to the real thing?
Cupid, archer who wounds the heart,
the target of foolish game,
see what wrenches we are?
I see your scharade,
God curse thee,
you wrenched imp!
Cupid, be gone!
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