Milonguita

Do you remember, Milonguita? You were
the prettiest little girl in Chiclana;
the short skirt and the braids,
and in your braids a kiss of sunshine.
And on those summer nights,
what did your little soul dream of, woman,
when you heard on the corner some tango
chamayarte low of love?

Estercita,
today they call you Milonguita,
flower of night and pleasure,
flower of luxury and cabaret.
Milonguita,
men have done you wrong
and today you would give all your soul
to dress in calico.

When you go out at dawn,
Milonguita, from that cabaret,
your whole soul shivering with cold
you say: Oh, if only I could love!...
And between the wine and the last tango
to the cotorro, you take out a bacán...
Oh, how lonely, Estercita, you feel!
If you cry... they say it's the champagne!