Ella

I got tired of begging,
I got tired of telling her
that for her
I die of sorrow.

She didn't want to listen to me
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 forgetfulness
in the Jalisco style
but those mariachis
and that tequila
made me cry.

I got tired of begging
with tears in my eyes
I raised my glass
and toasted with her.

She couldn't despise me
it was the last toast
of a bohemian
with a queen.

The mariachis fell silent
dropping my glass
from my weak hand
without realizing.

She wanted to stay
when she saw my sadness
but it was already written
that on that night
I would lose her love.