The little girl throws me little oranges
but I swear that if I were to throw them back to her
love would cause them to become blossom-bursts
On my way to a masquerade-ball I sauntered under her balcony
I saw the sun hiding mischievously in her eyes
as her dawning body frantically flung little oranges
As she knows nothing of love she thinks that everything is a joke
but I swear that if I were to throw
those little oranges back to her
love would cause them to turn back into blossom-bursts
Lope de Vega Carpio