I-- raving mad in my sadness-- evoke you, and I can see that you've been
Nothing but a good woman in my vagabond's life.
Your magnanimous presence to my nest lent true warmth.
You were kind, faithful, and I know you loved me
Like you never loved anyone else, like you will never love again.
The game was exposed when you, poor ladylove, dodged poverty in the boarding house.
Now you're quite the generous grand dame; life laughs for you and sings to you.
You play at leisure with the riches of the dupe just like any good vendor, like a trickster cat plays with the pitiful mice.
Now you've filled your head with unfortunate illusions.
The dupes were able to cheat you, as did your friends and your gentleman-lover, as well;
To dance a milonga with tycoons, with all of its mad temptations, is where all milonga-like aspirations triumph and truckle.
They've made their way deep inside your poor heart.
I must not thank you for anything, as we're even now;
I don't care about what you have done, or what you do, or what you will do...
I believe that I've payed you back any favors received.
And if I've forgotten any little debt without meaning to,
Please do charge it to that dupe of yours' account.
Meanwhile, may your success, pitiful transitory success,
Be a long line of riches and pleasures.
And may the dupe that keeps you have plenty of long-lasting, sturdy pesos.
May you make way with milonga-dancing pimps.
And let all the young men proclaim, "She's a good woman."
And in the future, when you're nothing but rebuffed old furniture;
And you have no hopes in your poor heart;
If you need any help, if you need any advice,
Remember your friend that will risk his own skin
To help you out in whatever he can, when the occasion presents itself.