Carbón y Ramas Secas

Coal and Dry Branches

Serve yourself in the meantime
whatever you fancy.
I want to redeem myself
but without startles.
Over the rooftops, the afternoon escapes.
Smoke from a cigarette that Gardel smokes.
In the sweet liquor that wounds me wild,
in the doodles I make on the tablecloth.
And I will wait. And if you don't come back,
under the olive tree, I will fall asleep.
I will wait in case you get lost.
The moon will rise, a lit lantern.
I give you my cape,
my crimson-colored cape.
My sad smile
raised in the branches,
in the streamers,
in the banners.
I will make you a dress
of a red poppy.
Sailor's lullaby,
knot of whims,
that no one will love you as much as I do.
If I could be looking into your eyes now,
I would be writing this song here.
I will wait. And if you don't come back,
under the olive tree, I will fall asleep
and sleep among forbidden books.
To the oblivion of a time I long for.
The one I lived with you.
My black horse, I give it to you.
Coal, dry branches to the lover.
I want to forgive you
but I'm not in a hurry.
Excuse me for a moment,
let me untangle myself.
Serve yourself in the meantime
whatever you fancy.
I want to redeem myself
but without startles.
Yours is the triumph, bitter taste
of the dry fruit of disillusionment.
Laurel of triumph, bitter taste
of the dry fruit of disillusionment.