Viejo Guitarrero

Old guitarist, you're fading away
With the loneliness of a poor wine
Don't leave just yet, finish telling me
That which you struggle to recall
Go on, give away a piece of your voice
For one more bottle

The guitar has the dawn in it
It's got a worn-out old bull
It carries the soul in a verse that’s hard to keep up
Damn! If you knew how to play it
Go on, give away a piece of your voice
For one more sorrow

And it's leaving us in a corner
Dreams, loneliness, and a yellowed song
Don't leave just yet! Finish telling me
That which you struggle to recall
Go on, give away a piece of your voice
For one more bottle

Like a squire from a legend
In a little cup, the sleepless nights
Always inviting back memories
From a Salta in its prime
It retraces encounters, things, and humility
Like a necessity

Close to the night, its fate
Clutching the wood against its chest
In the soul, the friends, and in the temples, the song
It has melodies of a goodbye
It arrives with the crickets of a samba to the heart
With a half-voiced shout