I’m looking back and realizing that
the new times took away
the stripe and high heeled military boots
I’m feeling here in my left side
that the heart ridicules me.
Nothing hurts as much as seeing
the reel unwind
the thread of youth.
Goodbye wisterias, vine canopies and geraniums…
Everything, everything is gone…
Where would they be, the guys from that bar where I sang my first song?
And those patios where soon I earned
brave applause, the first ones I heard.
Where would they be, Traverso, the Cordobés and the Noy,
the dark skinned Augusto, Flores and Aldao the black?
That’s how my flight as thrush started…
The tough guys of Abasto rhymed my song.
I’m that singer of the humble neighborhood
creole goldfinch that pulsed
the humble muse in percale dress.
I remember, twenty Springs ago
those dance parties lit with oil lamps…
When in one ear there was,
like an axe blow on the side,
the red stain of a carnation.
Guys, time has carried it all away.
Everything, everything is gone.
Where would they be, the guys from that bar where I sang my first song?
And those patios where soon I earned
brave applause, the first ones I heard.
Where would they be, Traverso, the Cordobés and the Noy,
the dark skinned Augusto, Flores and Aldao the black?
That’s how my flight as thrush started…
The tough guys of Abasto rhymed my song.