Pequeño vals vienés [English translation]

In Vienna there are ten girls

a shoulder where death sobs

and a forest of dried pigeons.

There is a fragment of the morning

inside the museum of frost,

there is a hall with one thousand windows.

Ay, ay, ay, ay!

Take this waltz, this waltz

this close-mouthed waltz.

I love you, I love you, I love you

with the armchair and the dead book,

in the obscure attic of the lily,

down the melancholic hallway,

in our bed made of moon

and in the dance that the turtle dreams.

Ay, ay, ay, ay!

Take this waltz, this waltz

this broken-waisted waltz.

This waltz, this waltz, this waltz, this waltz

of itself, of death, of cognac,

that wets its tail in the sea.

In Vienna there are four mirrors

where your mouth plays with the echoes.

There is a death for piano

that turns the boys blue.

There are beggars on the rooftops,

there are fresh garlands of tears.

Ay, ay, ay, ay!

Take this waltz, take this waltz

this waltz that is dying in my arms.

Because I love you, I want you, my love

in the attic where children play

dreaming of old lights of Hungary,

by the side of the warm afternoon's rumors,

watching sheep and lilies made of snow

by the dark silence of your forehead.

Ay, ay, ay, ay!

Take this waltz, this waltz

this "I love you always" waltz.

This waltz, this waltz, this waltz, this waltz

of itself, of death, of cognac,

that wets its tail in the sea.

This waltz, this waltz, this waltz, this waltz

of itself, of death, of cognac,

that wets its tail in the sea.

La la la,

la la la.

Ay, ay, ay, ay

ay, ay, ay, ay.