That scornful little glance

That scornful little glance

gleaming and threatening -

that poisonous dart -

Shoots out and strikes my heart.

Charms that have set me on fire,

and have divided me.

Wound me with a glance

Heal me with laughter!

Eyes be armed

with roughest rigor

pour on my heart

a cloudburst of sparks!

But let not the lips be late

in reviving my corpse;

let that glance wound me

but that laughter heal me.

To arms sweet eyes!

I prepare my breast for you:

take joy in wounding me

until I faint.

For if by your darts

I remain conquered,

Wound me with those glances!

But heal me with that laughter.