A la gran muñeca

I have seen you pass by on the sidewalk
with a gesture of desolation
and when you crossed you didn't even look,
I understood your disappointment.
She has left you, I know, the wicked one
and to the warmth of other eyes she leaves;
you see how there is nothing left
of that love that is killing you.

Come back, never other hands
like those of your little wife
will make in the afternoon
the gourds that I bait.
That in her foam I told you
that besides her sweetness
there was the tenderness
of the one who fattened it.

And no matter how much they love you
they will always be artifices,
no one will make the sacrifices
that your wife made for you.
In my nights of vigil
I do not sleep in sorrow
knowing that you are sick
without being able to help you.

There in the quiet night
I see you sad and mocked
by the one who has taken
my life and my heart.
Come back, you must forget her here,
my breast always waits for you,
your companion will know how
will know how to heal your passion.