Pompas de jabón
ebeta de mi barrio, papa, papusa,
que andás paseando en auto con un bacán,
que te has cortado el pelo como se usa,
y que te lo has teñido color champán.
Que en lo peringundines de frac y fuelle
bailás luciendo cortes de cotillón
y que a las milongueras, por darles dique,
al irte con tu "camba", batís "allón".
Hoy tus pocas primaveras
te hacen soñar en la vida
y en la ronda pervertida
del nocturno jarandón,
pensá en aristocracias
y derrochás tus abriles...
¡Pobre mina, que entre giles,
te sentís Mimí Pinsón...!
Pensá, pobre pebeta, papa, papusa,
que tu belleza un día se esfumará,
y que como todas las flores que se marchitan
tus locas ilusiones se morirán.
El "mishé" que te mima con sus morlacos
el día menos pensado se aburrirá
y entonces como tantas flores de fango,
irás por esas calles a mendigar...
Triunfás porque sos apenas
embrión de carne cansada
y porque tu carcajada
es dulce modulación.
Cuando implacables, los años,
te inyecten sus amarguras...
ya verás que tus locuras
fueron pompas de jabón
Soap Bubbles
Daughter of my neighborhood, daddy, doll,
why are you out driving with a rich guy,
why did you cut your hair as it's in fashion,
and dyed it champagne color.
That in the high society parties,
you dance showing off your party dresses,
and that to impress the tango dancers,
when leaving with your 'camba', you wave 'allón'.
Today your few springs
make you dream about life
and in the perverted circle
of the nocturnal revelry,
think about aristocracies
and you waste your youthful years...
Poor girl, who among fools,
you feel like Mimí Pinsón...!
Think, poor girl, daddy, doll,
that your beauty will one day fade away,
and like all flowers that wither,
your crazy illusions will die.
The 'mishé' who spoils you with his money,
will get bored one day
and then like many mud flowers,
you'll go begging in the streets...
You succeed because you're just
an embryo of tired flesh
and because your laughter
is a sweet modulation.
When relentless, the years,
inject you with their bitterness...
you'll see that your follies
were just soap bubbles