229. Federico Garcia Lorca

En Viena hay cuatro espejos

donde juegan tu boca y los ecos.

Hay una muerte para piano

que pinta de azul a los muchachos.

Hay mendigos por los tejados,

hay frescas guirnaldas de llanto.
¡Ay, ay, ay, ay!

Toma este vals que se muere en mis brazos.

Federico Garcia Lorca

There's a concert hall in Vienna

where your mouth had a thousand reviews.

There's a bar where the boys have stopped talking,

they've been sentenced to death by the blues.

Ah, but who is it climbs to your picture

with a garland of freshly cut tears?

Ay, ay ay ay

Take this waltz, take this waltz,

take this waltz, it's been dying for years.

Leonard Cohen

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