Amurado

Ringing the bell at my lady's house and I find it deserted
All I have left as a memory is the little painting that's there
Old clothes; some flowers and my tormented soul
That's all that's left since she left here

One more afternoon sadder than the sorrow that afflicts me
She packed her little bag and left me downhearted
I didn't say a word; not a reproach; not a complaint
I watched her walk away and thought: it's all over!

If she saw me I'm so old; my head is white
Could it be the sadness of my black loneliness?
It must be because I'm hit with such lousy whims
That I go to the bars to seek happiness

Little corner that knows my bitter misfortunes
Don't be surprised if I talk to myself, my pain is so great
If I lack her caresses; her comforts; her tenderness
What will I have left in my old age? If my life is in her love

How many nights I wander! Distressed and silent
Remembering my past with my friend, illusion
I go on a bender; I don't deny it, it will be very shameful
But I bring more drunk to my poor heart

If she saw me I'm so old; my head is white
Could it be the sadness of my black loneliness?
It must be because I'm hit with such lousy whims
That I go to the bars to seek happiness