On this gray day in this gray city
From this cold and gray motel, I write to you
With my heart out of time
And the demons of this dawn, as a witness
And I always abandon myself, but I get excited when I think of you
And these badly injured streets are not so cold like this
Jumping over the roofs I go like an intoxicated cat
That is chamuya to the moon and that one cannot sleep.
There are clouds between the dream and my omens
And these capricious words, which I write
Lost there, I continue, among these suspicious rhymes, captive
And I always abandon you, but I get excited when I think of you
And this cursed city looks prettier like this
The most precious sin of this poet in poor condition
With an ax blow to the side and that here he begins to write
And although I feel very alone when I think of you and I get emotional
And these badly injured streets are not so cold like this
Jumping over the roofs I go like an intoxicated cat
That the moon is chamuya and that you can't sleep.
And I always abandon you, but when I think of you I get excited
And this cursed city looks prettier like this
With an ax blow to the side...
With an ax blow to the side... here I start to write

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