19 Días y 500 Noches

Ours lasted
As long as two ice cubes
In a whiskey on the rocks
Instead of pretending
Or smashing a glass out of jealousy
She started laughing

Suddenly I found myself
Like a stray dog
Barking at the gates of heaven
She left me a toiletry bag with grievances
Honey on my lips
And frost in my hair

My lovers were right
When they said I used to be the bad one
With one exception, this time
I wanted to love her and she didn't

So she left
She left my heart in pieces and me on my knees
From the taxi, in excess
She blew me two kisses, one on each cheek

And I returned
To the curse of the drawer without her clothes
To the damnation of the cocktail bars
To the Cinderellas of sales and corners
And through those doors of Fino La Ina
Paying the bills of soulless people
Who lose their calm with cocaine

Driving myself crazy
Wasting my money and my life
Little by little
I considered her lost

And even though
To not overwhelm Maria with flowers
To not besiege her with my anthology
Of cold sheets and empty beds
To not buy her with costume jewelry
Nor be the show-off who goes on pilgrimage
With the brotherhood of holy reproach

I loved her so much
That it took me a while to learn to forget her
Nineteen days
And five hundred nights

She said hello and goodbye
And the door slammed like a question mark
I suspect that's how
She was getting back at me, through forgetting, Cupid of me

No, I don't ask for forgiveness (I don't ask for forgiveness)
What for, if she's going to forgive me because she doesn't care anymore
She always held her head up high, had a sharp tongue
And wore a very short skirt

She left me
Like old shoes are left behind
She shattered the lenses of my glasses from afar
She took her vivid portrait out of the mirror
And I was such a bullfighter through the alleys
Of gambling and wine, that yesterday the doorman
Threw me out of the casino in Torrelodones

What a great shame
I would deny the Holy Sacrament
At the very moment
That she orders me to

And even though
To not overwhelm Maria with flowers
To not besiege her with my anthology
Of cold sheets and empty beds
To not buy her with costume jewelry
Nor be the show-off who goes on pilgrimage
With the brotherhood of holy reproach

I loved her so much
That it took me a while to learn to forget her
Nineteen days
And five hundred nights

And I returned
To the curse of the drawer without her clothes
To the damnation of the cocktail bars
To the Cinderellas of sales and corners
And through those doors of Fino La Ina
Paying the bills of soulless people