Letra de Homero Manzi
Música de Aníbal Carmelo Troilo
Traducción de Walter Kane
On the icy marble, crumbs of croissant,
and an absurd woman who eats in a corner
Your muse is bleeding and she’s having breakfast
the dawn doesn’t forgive, doesn’t have a heart.
Finally, who is guilty of the grotesque life
and of the soul stained with crimson blood?
Better that we leave before dawn,
before we cry, old Discepolin!
I know of your long boredom
and I understand what it costs to be happy,
to the sound of every tango I sense your presence
with your enormous talent and your nose,
with your bitter, hidden tear,
with your pale clown-mask,
and with that sad smile
that blossoms in verse and in song.
People approach you with their heap of sorrows
and you caress them almost with a shudder
It hurtsas your own, someone else’s scar:
that guy was not lucky and this one didn’t have love.
The dance floor has filled with people to the sound of the orchestra…
sawdust-filled puppets embrace under the floodlight.
Don’t you see that they are dancing? Don’t you see that it’s a party?
Let’s go, even though everything hurts, old Discepolân