On the platform, the afternoon when I left,
I swore to you, “I’ll return! Wait for me!”.
Many years have passed,
and that afternoon is so distant,
provincial girl.
Your good love,
I lost it in Buenos Aires,
it got lost,
in the maze of its streets.
And that’s why I write to you,
this letter in which I ask,
that you forgive my betrayal.
Goodbye!
My provincial sweetheart, goodbye.
One morning,
when you go to pray,
for our love,
whisper a prayer of peace.
Goodbye!
My provincial sweetheart, goodbye.
By the brook,
where the weeping willow stands,
throw away the ring I gave you.
In vain it was,
to tie our love to a promise,
another love broke yesterday.
They are the things of fate,
that happen unthought,
and change our path.
Your feminine patience is almost heroic,
I understand your provincial bitterness.
Little girl in love,
so alone, so forsaken,
left by my ingratitude.
