Las cuarenta

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With the cigarette of life squeezed between the lips,
the gaze cloudy and cold, a bit slow the walk,
he turned the corner of the neighborhood and, already drunk with memories,
like pouring out a poison this was heard accusing him.

Old street of my neighborhood where I took my first steps,
I return to you, worn out the deck in useless shuffling,
with a wound in my chest, with my dream shattered,
that broke in an embrace that gave me the truth.

I learned all the bad, I learned all the good,
I know of the kiss that is bought, I know of the kiss that is given;
of the friend who is a friend only when it suits him,
and I know that with a lot of money one is worth much more.

I learned that in this life you have to cry if others cry
and, if the group laughs, you have to know how to laugh;
not to think wrong... Why, if you still live the same!
And you also run the risk of being called a fool!

The time I wanted to be good, they laughed in my face;
when I shouted an injustice, force made me be silent;
experience was my lover; disillusionment, my friend...
Every card has a counter and every counter is given!

Today I don't even believe in myself... Everything is a group, everything is false,
and that one, who is higher, is the same as the others...
So, don't be surprised if, one night, drunk,
you saw me walking arm in arm with someone I shouldn't be with.