COAL AND DRY BRANCHES (VERSION 2)
M. García García-Pérez

On the tile roofs the afternoon sleeps.
Smoke of a cigarette that Gardel smokes.
In the licor candy that hurts savage to me.
In the pothooks that I do in the table cloth.

And I'll hope.
And if you don't return
under the olive tree
I'll remain slept.
And I'll hope
in case you lose yourself.
It will be my moon,
your ignited lantern.

I give my cloak to you,
my scarlet cloak.
My sad smile
raised in the branches,
in the pennants,
in the banderoles.
And I do a dress for you of a red poppy.

Lullaby of sailor,
knot of ills,
that nobody will love you so much as me.
If now it could be watching your eyes.
I was going to be writing this song here.

I'll hope.
And if you don't return,
under the olive tree I'll remain slept
and I'll live other prohibited lives.
To the forgetfulness of the time that I long for.
The one that I lived with you.

My dappled horse I give to you.
Coal, dry branches. I am enamored.
I want forgive you
but I'm not in a hurry.
Excuse me a little while,
that I disentangle myself.

Please have meanwhile
what you desire.
I want redeem you
but without frights.

It distills the triumph
bitter flavor.
Of the dry fruit
of disillusion.