Tinta Roja
Anibal Troilo
Red Ink
Big wall
Red ink in yesterday's gray
Your emotion of happy brick
On my alley
With a blot painted the corner
And the button that in the width of the night
Put the edge of the round like a brooch
And that carmine mailbox
And that little bar where the Italian cried
His blonde distant love that he moistened with good wine
Where will my suburb be
Who stole my childhood?
In what corner, my Moon
Do you pour your clear joy as you did back then?
Sidewalks that I stepped on, tough guys that are no longer
Under your satin sky, a piece of my heart stays up late
Big wall
Red ink in yesterday's gray
Gush of my unhappy blood
That I spilled on the geranium of that balcony that hid it
I don't know if it was the black of my sorrows
Or it was the red of your veins, my sangria
Why did it come and go
After the carmine and the distant gray little bar
Where the Italian cried his nostalgia of good wine
