Una cancion

The glass of alcohol to the endand in the end your fog, still life...Monotonous and fatalthe accordion envelops mewith a tango vapor that makes me ill...Let's see, woman! Repeat your songwith that metal gangly voicethat smells of rumyour percale robeand tastes like honeyyour heart...A songthat kills my sadness,that will put me to sleep, that will stun meand in the cold of this tableyou and me: the two of us in curda...The two of us in curdaand in the sentimental sorrowthat the drunkenness gives meI ask you, my darlingto sing to me like before,slowly, slowly,your song one more time...The hard misfortune of both of usleads us to the same course, always the same,and the wind of your voicethe wind of your voicethat whistles the torture of the end...Let's see, woman! A little more rumand close up your calico robeI saw your heartnaked in the glass,trembling as I listenedthat song...