Natalia Ochoa and Ismael Ludman – Amarroto

Te pasaste treinta abriles de una esquina a otra esquina sin saber que era una mina, ni una copa, ni un café. La yugabas como un burro y amurabas meneguina practicando infantería de tu casa hasta el taller. Fútbol, timbas y carreras eran cosas indecentes, sólo el cine era tu vicio... si podías garronear. Y una vuelta que asomaste los mirones por Corrientes al marearte con las luces te tuvieron que auxiliar. Hijo de 'Quedate quieto' y la zaina 'No te muevas', nunca, nunca te rascaste ni teniendo sarampión... Flor de chaucha que en la esquina no ligaste ni una breva porque andabas como un longhi chamuyándolo al botón. No tenías ni un amigo, 'que el buey solo bien se lame', según tu filosofía de amarroto sin control. Y amasabas los billetes como quien hace un salame laburando de esclavacho, como un gil, de sol a sol. Hoy te veo engayolado... Te chapó una solterona que podría ser tu nona y que es toda tu pasión... Y seguís amarrocando para que ella, tu monona, se las dé de gran princesa a costillas del chabón. En el banco de la vida al final siempre se pierde, no hay mortaja con bolsillos a la hora de partir. Vos que no sabés siquiera de un final 'bandera verde', aclarame, che amarroto... ¿para qué querés vivir?

You spent thirty years from one corner to another corner without knowing it was a mine, or a drink, or a coffee. You played the game like a donkey and you mopped up meneguina practicing infantry from your house to the workshop. Soccer, gambling and racing were indecent things, only the cinema was your vice... if you could get away with it. And one time when you saw the peeping toms on Corrientes when you got dizzy with the lights they had to help you. Son of 'Quedate quieto' and the zaina 'No te muevas' (Don't move), you never, never scratched yourself, not even if you had measles... You were such a good boy that in the corner you didn't even get a single because you went around like a longhi, sucking up to the button. You didn't even have a friend, 'because the ox licks itself well', according to your philosophy of uncontrolled amaroto. And you kneaded the bills like someone who makes a salami working as a slave, like a gil, from sunrise to sunset. Today I see you in a mess... You've been chipped by a spinster who could be your nona and who is all your passion... And you keep on tying her up so that she, your monona, to pretend to be a great princess at the guy's expense. In the bank of life you always lose in the end, there is no shroud with pockets when it's time to leave. You who don't even know about a 'green flag' ending, tell me, che amarroto... what do you want to live for?