El loco Antonio

(Milonga)

Milonga, what are you thinking
what are you going to tell,
don't come out with sadness,
I don't think about that anymore.

You say that I loved her,
look, you talk too much,
talk about Santa Lucía
twenty-one years ago.

Iron bridge over the grassland,
water aimlessly, like in the sea,
the moon abandoned it
and it flooded in the mud.

Crazy Antonio loved it more,
wooden oars and boat,
the low tides found him
thinking and smoking.

Crossing the bridge, milonga,
remember there is a place
where the herons squawk
beside a spring.

Think that in those days
that you want to remember
Santa Lucía was already there
with its bridge and its canal.

Iron bridge over the grassland,
floods, like in the sea,
the moon abandoned it
and it flooded in the mud.

Crazy Antonio loved it more,
wooden oars and boat,
the low tides found him
thinking and smoking.

Crazy Antonio loved it more,
wooden oars and boat,
the low tides found him
looking towards the canal.