Sound, whiny tango, bold and streetwise,
like my sad and battered heart sounds in distress.
And if you see my beloved, don’t tell her I care,
because I’m ashamed to think of her betrayal yet.
Sound, tango, and if you see me dance to your tune with another,
don’t let on that you heard my moan accompany your play.
I don’t want her to know the anguish I endured,
and that since that afternoon, I’ve done nothing but sob.
Tango!…
Melancholic witness
and my sole friend
in solitude.
Tango!…
In the turns of fate
perhaps on my path
I’ll meet her again.
But then, with no bitterness or desire for revenge,
my forgiveness shall give shelter and the musical sigh
of this torn tango, full of pain and hope,
will be the cry that accuses her of causing me such hurt.
Sound, whiny tango, bold and streetwise,
like my sad and battered heart sounds in distress.
And if you see my beloved, don’t tell her I care,
because I’m ashamed to think of her betrayal yet.