Balada Para Un Loco

Recited

The late afternoons in Buenos Aires have that... well, you know.
You leave your house down Arenales Avenue.
The usual: on the street and in me...
Then suddenly, from behind a tree,
he appears.

A strange mix of the next to last tramp
and the first stowaway on the trip to Venus:
half a melon on the head,
the shirt stripes painted on the skin,
two half soles nailed to the feet
and a free taxi flag raised in each hand.

Ha, ha! It seems that only I see him.
Because he passes among the people,
and the mannequins wink at him;
the traffic lights give him three sky-blue lights,
and the oranges from the corner fruit stand
cast their blossoms at him.
And this way, half dancing and half flying,
he removes the melon, greets me,
gives me a little flag, and says to me...

Sung

I know I'm crazy, crazy, crazy...
Don't you see the moon rolling through Callao;
that a carnival of astronauts and children, with a waltz,
dances around me... Dance! Come! Fly!

I know I'm crazy, crazy, crazy...
I look at Buenos Aires from a sparrow's nest;
and I saw you so sad... Come! Fly! Feel!...
the crazy desire I have for you:

Crazy! Crazy! Crazy!
When night falls in your porteña loneliness,
by the shore of your sheet I'll come
with a poem and a trombone
to keep your heart awake.

Crazy! Crazy! Crazy!
Like a demented acrobat I'll jump,
over the abyss of your cleavage until I feel
I drove your heart crazy with freedom...
You'll see!

Recited

And, saying this, The madman invites me
to walk in his super sport illusion,
and we're going to run over the cornices
with a swallow in the engine!
From Vieytes they applaud: