Florida

Without the mask of pain,
thinking of love,
they all go to Florida...
In the superb sunset,
smiling, the woman
is a hymn to life.
On that fashionable street
she's always gentle,
dreaming, sweet, of the wedding
that will make her happy...
She goes down Florida Street
the beautiful street where love is.

The boys, too,
savoring illusion,
they carry their hearts
in a lyrical train.
And the subtle compliment
on their lips, is honey
that nourishes the carnation
of human life.
The two contemplate each other
with ideal frenzy.
She says yes;
he never says no.
And in the same sweetness
through Florida they go,
which is the street without peer,
in the things of love.

In that meeting point,
also, after the illusion,
goes the old boastful man.
With a rose in his buttonhole
aching to step on it,
he curses his rheumatism.
And in that beloved street
by the caburé
she never feels defeated
passion and faith.
Bless you, Florida!
As long as I live I will not leave you.