Viejo smoking

Campaneá how the cotorro is becoming depopulated
all the luxury is the catrera compadreando without a mattress
and look at this poor boy how he has lost his state,
bitter, poor and skinny as a button dog.

Little by little everything has gone head over heels for the pawn
he was in the pool and had to go for a swim...
Only you're saving yourself because for me you're a dream
from which, God willing, they'll never wake me up.

Old smocking from the times
when I used to carve too...
How much papusa garaba
in your flaps cried!
Flaps that with their brightness
seemed to dazzle
and that wherever I went
my fame as a gigolo.

I don't feel the sadness of knowing myself defeated
and I am not bitter at the memory of my past splendor;
I do not regret the wind nor the years I have thrown away,
but I weep to see myself alone, without friends, without love;

without a hand to come and take me to a stop,
without a woman to cheer up the rest of my life...
You'll see that one of these days I'm going to put you as my pillow
and, lying down in the hole, I'm going to let myself die!

Old smocking, how many times
the milonguera plus papa
the shine of your lapel
of estuque and carmine stained
and in my handsome rantings
how many cries wet you!
how many taitas envied
my gigolo fame!