Sitting in a corro we wanted kisses and joints
And the hours passed quickly between smoke and laughter.
You died to return with withered forehead sang gardel
And between quotations from Borges, he avoids dancing with Freud.
It has rained since that rain until today.
I went every Sunday to your post on the trail to buy you
Carrot crumbs, tin soldiers.
With water from the Andalusian sea I wanted to fall in love,
But you did not want more love than the river of silver.
The storm lasted until the eighties.
Then, the sun was drying the clothes of old Europe.
There is no nostalgia worse than yearning for what never, never, happened.
send me a postcard of san telmo, goodbye, take care!
And the whistle of the train rang between you and me ...
I went every Sunday to your post on the trail to buy you
Crumbs of bread crumbs, tin horses
With water from the Andalusian sea I wanted to fall in love,
But you did not want another love than the river of silver.
Those flags of the homeland of spring,
To tell me that there is oblivion, tonight they have come.
It felt so good on you, that beret in the style of che.
Buenos Aires is like you told, today I went for a walk,
And when I arrived in the Plaza de Mayo I started to cry
And I started shouting: where are you?
And I did not return to your post of the trail to buy you
Bread crumb hearts, tin hats.
And nobody writes to me saying:
I can not forget you, I wish you were with me in the river of silver
Only among all we can make this a better place :)