El Tiempo Está Después
Perotá Chingó
The Time Is Later
Llupes street divides in the middle
It finds Belvedere
The train bids farewell from below
With whistles of sadness
Those endless lines
Leaving from Central
The pavement is covered
But there it is
The spring in that neighborhood
It's called solitude
It's called cries of tenderness
Begging to enter
And in the rush, it's raining
They will no longer squeeze together
My tears in your pockets
You've changed your coat
One day we will find each other
In another carnaval
We'll be lucky if we learn
That there is no corner
That there is no anchorage
That can dissolve
In its hiding place, what we were
The time is later
