Pluck these glad petals from the stem.
She loves me--not--ah, love again!

Risk to lose and find love fine
but, beware the love of Borderline.

A gambler's heart likes to be teased
by the paradoxical pleas:

"God, I hate you; please don't leave!"
but there is nothing up love's sleeve.

First count the petals of love's flower
then count it joy to know a true love's power.

Real love is never born, nor feeds of hate
A gambler mustn't take the bait.