Lustrabotas de Avenida
Lustrador de las miserias ambulantes
Sé que todos usan guantes
Para estrechar tu mano
Sucia desde el antebrazo
Hasta todos tus dedos
Que aunque sean diez
Impotentes son
Que aunque sean diez
Tus manos son dos
Luchador de la ironía cotidiana
Entre tus manos mugrientas
Oprimes tu arma de cerda
Como todas las mañanas
En la calle o en el bar
Te llaman a vos sin saber quien sos
Alumno sin maestro
Quien te dio a luz a oscuras
Si pensamos que tu vida es ignorante
Entre frascos de tintura
Entre pobres y avenidas
Tienes tu epitafio listo
Y un diez de graduado en
En la vida
Lustrando al sol
Cuanto te amé, pequeño
Cuanto lloré tu muerte
Entre diarios y franelas
Avenue Shoe Shiner
Shiner of wandering miseries
I know everyone wears gloves
To shake your hand
Dirty from the forearm
To all your fingers
Even though they are ten
They are powerless
Even though they are ten
Your hands are two
Fighter of everyday irony
Between your dirty hands
You grip your bristle weapon
Like every morning
On the street or in the bar
They call you without knowing who you are
Student without a teacher
Who gave birth to you in the dark
If we think your life is ignorant
Among bottles of dye
Among the poor and avenues
You have your epitaph ready
And a ten in
In life
Shining in the sun
How much I loved you, little one
How much I cried for your death
Among newspapers and rags