Pebeta de mi barrio, papa, papusa,
que andás paseando en auto con un bacán,
que te has cortado el pelo como se usa,
y que te lo has teñido color champán.
Que en lo peringundines de frac y fuelle
bailás luciendo cortes de cotillón
y que a las milongueras, por darles dique,
al irte con tu 'camba', batís 'allón'.

Hoy tus pocas primaveras
te hacen soñar en la vida
y en la ronda pervertida
del nocturno jarandón,
pensá en aristocracias
y derrochás tus abriles...
¡Pobre mina, que entre giles,
te sentís Mimí Pinsón...!

Pensá, pobre pebeta, papa, papusa,
que tu belleza un día se esfumará,
y que como todas las flores que se marchitan
tus locas ilusiones se morirán.
El 'mishé' que te mima con sus morlacos
el día menos pensado se aburrirá
y entonces como tantas flores de fango,
irás por esas calles a mendigar...

Triunfás porque sos apenas
embrión de carne cansada
y porque tu carcajada
es dulce modulación.
Cuando implacables, los años,
te inyecten sus amarguras...
ya verás que tus locuras
fueron pompas de jabón.

English translation

Pebeta from my neighborhood, papa, papusa,
that you're driving around in a car with a cool guy,
that you have cut your hair as it is used,
and that you've dyed it champagne-colored.
That in the peringundines of tails and bellows
you dance wearing cotillion cuts
and that to the milongueras, to give them dike,
when you leave with your 'camba', you beat 'allón'.

Today your few springs
make you dream of life
and in the perverted round
of the nightly jarandón,
think of aristocracies
and you squander your coats...
Poor mine, that between giles,
you feel like Mimí Pinsón...!

Think, poor little girl, papa, papusa,
that your beauty will fade one day,
and that like all the flowers that wither
your crazy illusions will die.
The 'mishé' that pampers you with his black pudding
the day you least expect it will get bored
and then like so many mud flowers
you will go through those streets to beg...

You succeed because you are just
embryo of tired flesh
and because your laughter
is sweet modulation.
When relentless, the years
inject you with their bitterness...
you will see that your follies
were soap bubbles.