Vieja Recova

The other night as I was walking like a drunkard,
step by step, alone and sad, walking the sidewalk,
I felt the edge of a sorrow that on the left side
insisted treacherously on cutting my heart.
Among pitiful rags a poor beggar woman
sobbing her misfortune approached me,
and as I threw her some coins the old beggar woman
covered her ashamed face with her hands.

I have seen her when young weaving fantasies
with her dreams of high flight and champagne nights.
Poor thing! who would have thought about the endings of her days
and the shameful tragic alms they give her today.
I walked away, Old Market, from her side, can you imagine,
from the friend of other times, what pain I felt!
What was once greatness today showed only ruins,
and some stubborn tears I couldn't deny.

Old Market,
corner of her life
I found her alone and lost
like a fatal sample.
Bad luck
played her a tough card,
the tables turned on her,
old age defeated her.
Old Market, if you could see how much pain!