La negra melena enluta la almohada
de un pobre muchacho, que está en el final,
pasea en la pieza su triste mirada,
clavando el olvido su fiero puñal.
La colcha acaricia su mano alargada,
que tantas cinturas bailando apretó;
un pucho se duerme en la zurda cansada;
sólo se oye el tic-tac del reloj.

Desfilan en la penumbra
recuerdos de lo que ha sido;
pasado, que se derrumba,
presente, que lo ha vencido;
vencido de mala suerte
porque el vivir es un tango,
la compañera es la Muerte,
que sola, viene a buscarnos.

Espera que venga a llevarlo a su lado,
total a ninguno le importa más de él,
y alivia su pena mirando al costado,
el viejo cuadrito de Carlos Gardel.
La vista se entrega, quedándose quieta,
dejándole un velo de llanto amargao
y el suelo que alfombra una Crítica 'sexta'
recibe un suspiro y un pucho apagao.

English translation

The black mane mists the pillow of a poor boy, who is at the end
of a poor boy, who is at the end,
He walks in the room with his sad gaze,
oblivion stabs him with its fierce dagger.
The quilt caresses his long hand,
that so many dancing waists squeezed;
a cigarette falls asleep in her tired left hand;
only the ticking of the clock is heard.

In the half-light parade
memories of what has been;
past, which collapses,
present, which has defeated him;
defeated by bad luck
because living is a tango,
the companion is Death,
who alone, comes looking for us.

He waits for me to come and take him to his side,
no one cares any more about him,
and relieves his sorrow by looking to the side,
the old Carlos Gardel picture.
The sight surrenders, remaining still,
leaving him a veil of bitter weeping
and the floor that carpets a 'sixth' Criticism
receives a sigh and a pucho apagao.