El último organito

The muddy wheels of the last barrel-organ
will come from the afternoon looking for the suburb,
with a skinny horse and a lame man and a monkey
and a chorus of girls dressed in percale.

With muted steps it will choose the corner
where moonlight and store lights mix
so that the pale marquise and the pale marquis
may dance waltzes behind the niche.

The last barrel-organ will go from door to door
until it finds the house of the dead neighbor,
of that neighbor who grew tired of loving;
and there it will grind tangos for the blind man to weep,
the inconsolable blind man of Carriego's verse,
who smokes, smokes, and smokes sitting on the threshold.

The last barrel-organ will have a white box
and the autumn asthma will shake its sound,
and its boards will be adorned with little angel heads
and the echo of its piano will be like a farewell.

The shut-in brides will greet its absence
opening the shutters behind its song,
and the last barrel-organ will fade into nothingness
and the soul of the suburb will be left voiceless.