(Tango)
I've lost, Tango ...
Who knows ... where will you be.
I could with my effort, trying to forget ...
But you ... you never forget.
You tango, claiming,
to that beauty profane.
As if I had dreamed,
nobody knew, nobody ... your authorship.
Plaintive allegories ...
orbiting my head ...
Sometimes I have wanted to dig a sett ...
To keep my hope terrified.
And in this "epiphany" ....
Back to reconnect with her.
Love almost never declines ...
If you answer ... to purity.
I recycle as a "patch" in one morning
In a suburb "Mishio" ...
The vile "strokes" of my insomnia,
incite me to evoke you.
Sometimes, you are a "patch"
I stand to not give up.
I looked in libraries hostile
and...no have luck.
Maybe you are pure deception ...
Well ... do not answer any "fees" ....
Tango, supportive and friendly ...
That night I "played" the most beautiful.
I, guess its fun silhouette
tangled between "silence" and "eighth".
A guide me a guitar resigned
I always wait, your melody.
Already have labored all roads,
I walked by her.
I have a hunch meet again,
As, appearing out of nowhere.
You and the Tango, are the same thing,
So vividness name it ... all the time ...
Your beauty and inhabits my mirrors ...
And I see you, forever ... together ...
Daniel H Guasti
"Mishio" = poor pisulinoal@yahoo.com.ar
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