Montenegra

Three years and a day ago I arrived in the northern town and was just one more among the strangers.
Today you would say that I have aged at least ten years.
I dedicated myself for a while to sing to you in the port songs that I had learned right here.
A few spoke of heaven and many of the abyss.

I met her one morning behind a guitar and that tune sprang from her lips.
As if it were a curse, I couldn't forget it.

And I could go back and I could say that things are going well over there in the northern town.
And omit that there a strange woman taught me that no good comes without bad.

And although I asked, she always kept quiet or said, 'You don't want to know about my life, don't make me talk.
If I drink, it's to forget.'

Since that day, that melody clings to my soul.
Tearing it away is impossible.
Because it resonates with the perfection of a terrible memory.
And now when I try to write new verses, I only find disappointments.
And now I know for sure that I won't write any more songs.

And I could go back and I could say that things are going well over there in the northern town.
And omit that there a strange woman taught me that no good comes without bad.
And although I asked, she always kept quiet or said, 'You don't want to know about my life, don't make me talk.
If I drink, it's to forget.'

And although I asked, she always kept quiet or said, 'You don't want to know about my life, don't make me talk.
If I live, it's to forget.'