Amiga Mia

Carlos Gardel

My Friend

He hasn’t seen you tremble, waiting
for a word, some gesture,
a hug.
He doesn’t see you like I do, sighing,
with your little eyes wide open,
hearing me say his name.
Oh, my friend! I know, and he does too.

My friend, I don’t know what to say,
nor what to do to make you happy.
I wish I could command the soul
or freedom,
that’s what he’s missing,
fill your pockets
with won battles,
with renewed dreams and hopes.
I want to gift you a poem;
you think I’m just
breaking the news.

My friend, I hope one day
while listening to my song, suddenly,
you understand that what I never wanted
was to tell your story
because it might come off as touching.
But, forgive me, my friend,
it’s not intelligence or wisdom;
this is my way of saying things.
It’s not that it’s my job,
it’s just my language.

My friend, princess of an endless tale.
My friend, I just intend
for you to count on me.
My friend, let’s see if one of these days,
I finally learn to speak
without going around in circles,
that this whole story matters to me
because you’re my friend.

My friend, I know, you only live for him,
he knows it too, but he doesn’t see you
like I do, begging my mouth to say
that he’s confessed to me over drinks
that it’s your skin
he dreams of at night...
My friend, I don’t know what to say,
nor what to do to make you happy.
I wish I could command the soul
or freedom,
that’s what he’s missing,
fill your pockets
with won battles,
with renewed dreams and hopes.
I want to gift you a poem;
you think I’m just
breaking the news.