That one who your daughter dreams of
that robber who robs
your love, it's me, mistress.
I know I'm not a good son-in-law.
I'm almost a kiss from hell,
but a kiss at least, mistress.
I'm the one for who now
you wonder why, mistress
your fragance wilted,
losing the life, spoiling her childhood,
keeping the dream awake,
crying her crying
with so much abundance.
If when a flower opens
the smell of the flower
forgets the flower.
Worthless were the nuns,
the whims and the flatteries
that you had in lots, mistress.
You didn't educate her, I'll take care,
for a long-haired dreamer
What are you going to do, mistress,
if in your clock the time came
to forget your home, mistress,
in the arms of an unknown,
who only gave you a Cupid blow
who didn't make you beautiful
by force of wrinkles
and lost years?
If when a flower opens
the smell of the flower
forgets the flower.
Wear and old dress
and, looking sideways, in the mirror,
go back, mistress.
Remember before cursing me,
that your had the firm skin
and a dream in it
and a dream in it
and a dream in it, mistress...