I regained my senses only when they had mastered the ways of cruelty; curse this heart of mine, which alerted me at such an unfortunate time.

The poet laments the cruel irony of love with wry, self-deprecating wit. As long as the beloved was inexperienced in the art of torment, the lover remained blissfully unaware; but the moment the beloved perfected their cruelty, the lover's heart chose to awaken. This untimely realization brings no peace—only the agony of being fully conscious of every blow.