They were known in the streets of the neighborhood,
known in all the clubs and taverns.
He was so serious, so tall, so pale and thin,
she was black-haired and fragile, so gracious and small.
He was around fifty,
she wasn't a day over twenty four.
He taught lessons, I believe, in some private school,
and she was studying, I believe, a course in italian.
They drank and loved each other, or so it seemed,
sometimes they argued, sometimes they smiled,
they kissed and hated each other, but nobody's perfect
love is difficult and hard to find in these days.
Nighttime softens hearts,
nights of funerals, wine and roses.
Let's drink to love and its failures,
perhaps we'll be able to choose our defeat.
The sun cleans streets and memories,
it attenuates fierce passions.
Make up the ending of every story,
love is eternal while it lasts.
He came in one night at the usual club,
he was strictly dressed in mourning,
he came alone and drunk, and his face was serious,
and in his hands he carried funeral flowers.
She had left him, he calmy told us,
and he had decided to consider her dead,
and drink to her oblivion and eternal rest,
and celebrate her funeral from club to club.
So we went ahead, let me tell you:
wine glasses and laughs, also some vomiting,
hugs of friendship, eternal was that night.
Requiescat1 and let's drink to her and her memory.
Nighttime softens hearts,
nights of funerals, wine and roses.
Let's drink to love and its failures,
perhaps we'll be able to choose our defeat.
The sun cleans streets and memories,
it attenuates fierce passions.
Make up the ending of every story,
love is eternal while it lasts.
Outside of El Almendro2 he was already quite drunk,
he collapsed in the pavement and I leaned over at his side.
I knew he was quickly dying,
he said something in my ear and he dissolved in my arms.
An ambulance took him with his flowers and everything,
and I went to fulfill his cursed errand.
I came to the club he'd told me
and I looked for the girl among the smoke and the noise.
I finally saw her, she was dancing slowly,
taking shelter in the warm chest of a young man.
I told her, she heard me, she hugged her partner.
I couldn't tell if she cried, I could barely see.
Nighttime softens hearts,
nights of funerals, wine and roses.
Let's drink to love and its failures,
perhaps we'll be able to choose our defeat.
The sun cleans streets and memories,
it attenuates fierce passions.
Make up the ending of every story,
love is eternal while it lasts.
