Mi taza de café

The afternoon is dying behind the window
and I think as I drink my cup of coffee.
Memories, triumphs, and sorrows parade by
the lights and shadows of the time that has passed.
The street is empty just like my destiny.
Friends and affections, cards of yesterday.
Ghosts of life, lies of the path
that I recall as I drink my cup of coffee.

One day I met you cheerfully, city.
I arrived bringing verses and dreams of success.
I saw you from the height of a boarding room
and a vertigo of life felt my heart.
My town was far away, lost beyond.
Your night was close, your night prevailed.
Your streets led me, your brightness deceived me,
none were guilty, none more than me.

The afternoon wind stirs the curtain.
The hand of memory tightens my heart.
The autumn sorrow enlarges the mist:
it seeps through the crack of my desolation.
Useless pessimism, desire to be sad.
Obsession of always thinking about yesterday.
Ghosts of the past that return and persist
when in the afternoons I drink my cup of coffee.