Mi Tristeza

How will my sadness be (repeat)
If I manage to reach old age,
When my hands can no longer (repeat)
Clean the back of a horse

Adjust a saddle
Nor shake a false
Perhaps not even put on the brake
Much less ride it,
That is the worst punishment
That the years can give me.

Because I have dedicated my whole life
To the plains,
And to see that I can no longer do
What I did when I was young,
The few days I have left
I will spend thinking.

I won't bullfight a bull again (repeat)
Or cross a river swimming,
Nor milk a cow (repeat)
Or work in the mud.

I won't pick up a rope again
Or brand a calf,
And maybe not even throw a lasso
In a burnt pasture,
Or do a task
Under the summer suns.

I won't wake up again
At the foot of a harp singing,
Among sticks of aguardiente
With a girl by my side
Dealing with the sly verse
With veteran singers.

Maybe I won't wear a hat (repeat)
Borsalino or guama fiber,
Nor my new liquilique (repeat)
To stroll in distant towns.

I won't enter a cattle pen again
Showing off a spirited horse,
Nor will I taste again
The sweetness of some lips,
That after a rodeo
Were the best gift.

I won't enter a cockfight
Nor will I sharpen a rooster,
Nor at a gaming table
Make a pair of dice roll,
Or fight as it was done
Just to test a countryman.

I won't stay up all night again (repeat)
The people in my neighborhood,
I who turned nights into days (repeat)
On those long roads.

And where I would dawn
I maintained the same enthusiasm,
I who had a thousand adventures
Without needing a guide,
Always leaving on the road
Many offspring sown.

That with time will give
The same shade as this tree,
And thinking about what I was
And seeing that I will be old,
I will stand on a corner
To look up and down.