Milonga de Pelo Largo

Long-haired milonga, with dark eyes
Like the night, like the night
Tales of deep sorrows, of young folks
Of old pains, from twenty years ago

Comfort for those who are always dragged down
By the daily grind, what a serious thing
Memory of those who flee from our land
From the violence, from the misery

I offer you my wilted daisies
That are empty, that are all dried up
I give you all the sacrifices of simple things
That I've made, that I've made

Milonga, my companion who understands me
Who protects me, who keeps me warm
Blanket of the poor man who feels cold
And doesn’t complain, no longer complains