Music: Carlos Gardel / Lyrics: Alfredo LePera
Spanish (Original)
Yo no quiero que nadie a mí me diga
Que de tu dulce vida
Vos ya me has arrancado
Mi corazón una mentira pide
Para esperar tu imposible llamado
Yo no quiero que nadie se imagine
Cómo es de amarga y honda mi eterna soledad
Pasa las noche el minuto muele
La pesadilla de su lento tic-tac
En la doliente sombra de mi cuarto, al esperar
Sus pasos que quizás no volverán
A veces me parece que ellos detienen su andar
Sin atreverse luego a entrar
Pero no hay nadie y ella no viene
Es un fantasma que crea mi ilusión
Y que al desvanecerse va dejando su visión
Cenizas en mi corazón
En la plateada esfera del reloj
Las horas que agonizan se niegan a pasar
Hay un desfile de extrañas figuras
Que me contemplan con burlón mirar
Es una caravana interminable
Que se hunde en el olvido con su mueca espectral
Se va con ella tu boca que era mía
Solo me queda la angustia de mi mal
English
I don’t want anybody to tell me
that you have uprooted me from your sweet life.
My heart is asking for a lie
so that I can wait for your imposible call.
I don’t want anybody to figure out
how bitter and profound my eternal lonliness is,
the night passes, the minutes grind
the nightmare of their slow tic-tac.
In the afflicted shadows of my bedroom, while waiting
for her steps that, perhaps, won’t come back,
some times, seems to me, that they stop their walking
without daring, after, to come in.
But nobody is there, and she doesn’t come,
it is a ghost that my illusion creates,
and that, as it fades, its vision leaves
ashes in my heart.
In the silvery dial of the clock
the hours that are dying, refuse to pass.
There is a parade of strange figures
that look at me with mockingly glances.
It is an endless caravan
that sink into oblivion with its spectral grimace.
With it goes your mouth, that was mine,
I only have left the anguish of my grief.
In the afflicted shadows of my bedroom, while waiting
for her steps that, perhaps, won’t come back,
some times, seems to me, that they stop their walking
without daring, after, to come in.
But nobody is there, and she doesn’t come,
it is a ghost that my illusion creates,
and that, as it fades, its vision leaves
ashes in my heart.