Me Cansé de Rogarle

I got tired of begging her,
I got tired of telling her
that without her
I die of sorrow...
She didn't want to listen to me anymore...
if her lips parted
it was to tell me...
I don't love you anymore.

I felt that my life
was lost in an abyss
deep and black
like my luck...
I wanted to find oblivion
in the 'Jalisco style'
but those mariachis
and that tequila
made me cry.

I got tired of begging her...
with tears in my eyes
I raised my glass
and toasted... to her...
she couldn't scorn me,
it was the last toast
of a bohemian...
for a queen.

The mariachis fell silent...
from my hand, weakly,
my glass fell
without me realizing...
she wanted to stay
when she saw my sadness.
but it was already written
that on that night
I would lose her love.