A Medianoche

When the suburb is dozing
Under the rain or on a calm night
An old lady crosses like a lost soul
Through the sad streets

Wandering until dawn
And in the shadows, she tends to hide
Poor woman, she walks without stopping
Carrying all her pain on her back

The good folks from the low neighborhoods
Those humble ones who know their story
Say that one day her wicked granddaughter
The little brat, got her on her knees

And since then, winter and summer
At midnight, the old woman
Lives with her bitter complaint
Drowned in loneliness

And so she gets lost in the backstreets
A pitiful human wreck
Because in her tyrant life
She found nothing but deceit

Like a painful moan
Dressed in rags, head down and wilted
She always moves silently
With all the weight of her dark anguish

And cursing her luck
That left sorrows in her chest
She cries for her end, seeing she's lost
The sweet love that forgot her

Maybe the wicked and mean granddaughter
Today doesn’t remember her tender grandmother
She only knows that the poor nest
Is asleep, the one she abandoned