Mas Guapa Que Cualquiera

She was named Solitude and was alone
like a port battered by the waves,
she collected sad butterflies,
addresses of streets that don't exist.
But she had the whim to play
and make an exception with me

and, first, we went dancing
and, in the middle of an 'I love you' she forgot me.
She had nothing of Hope but the name
she who expected nothing from men,
she collected unfortunate loves,
mutilated lead soldiers.
But she wanted one night to check
what a heart is for
and lit a cigarette and another
as all hope vanished.
That's why, when time summarizes
and dreams seem like nightmares,
that perfume returns
from yellowed photos.
And, even though I know she wasn't
the prettiest in the world... I swear she was
prettier than anyone.
She was named Immaculate that whore
who cured the recruits' measles,
she collected summer clouds,
tulle veils gnawed by worms.
But she wanted to fall in love
like an ordinary blonde
and for me to take her out of the
'street of loveless kisses'
And, a thousand years later, when other cats
disrupt my nights of madness,
I recall those moments
of clumsy passions.
And, even though I know she wasn't
the prettiest in the world, I swear she was
prettier, prettier than anyone.