Love, tell me, for pity's sake thus all humans
and gods alike are always in your realm,
who supplies thy arrows, 
since thou goest about, always angry, in thousands upon thousands of places
and loosest thy flame-fletched shafts into the hearts of men and gods?


I pray thee, tell me, is it not the god Mars, 
when he comes back loaded with the booty of soldiers 
dead in battle? 
Or is it Vulcan, who makes thee new ones in his forge
(when thou losest thine old ones) 
and always gives them thee back?

Poor little one (Love replied), dost thou not know
The harshness, the sweetness, the force and the power 
of thy lover's sweet eyes? 
The more I loose my shafts against men and gods, 
the more of them, in a moment, thy lovely Marie's eyes
supply me again.