Señor X

He was the last survivor of his clan,
His friends slowly said goodbye to him
And through that obituary page of 'abc'
He celebrated the fortune of those who have 'remained',
Sincerely regretting not having anyone
To boast a great bet finishing the game
In that casino in Madrid, where he was always
A respectable gentleman and founding member.

Mr. X,
Bullfighter and womanizer,
Lover of life and winner,
Avid taster of all pleasures,
Expert in betting and bluffing.

Mr. X
Showman and bullfighter,
Of Montecristo, silk, and starch,
Handsome mannequin in tie and hat,
A prototype of a conqueror.

His fortune dwindled without knowing why
And the girls from 'Eslava'
Said goodbye to him,
And he sought in that autumn
Cold of Madrid
A corner where
His fifty could rest,
And he found a woman's arms
To surrender in
And in that 20-year-old skin
Love awakened,
And he ventured out into the street again
In his gray suit
Reminding us with his gaze
Of what he always was.

Mr. X
Tavern and flamenco,
Octogenarian, mischievous, and gentleman,
Eternal dreamer
Strolling through life
With the gravedigger's permission.

Mr. X
Of duplex and girl,
Of nights of conversation and coffee,
Proud victor
In all battles
Yesterday he went to the other neighborhood.

Mr. X
Showman and bullfighter,
Of Montecristo, silk, and starch,
Handsome mannequin
In tie and hat,
A prototype of a conqueror.

A prototype of a conqueror.