(tango)
That strange Buenos Aires,
in this summer afternoon,
that silence ... but quiet.
The asphalt burning,
I mark the footprints
the collective
as it takes ... in January
Only tourists are observed.
It seems this city,
holidays,
is what transpires ...
The traffic is tamed,.
all offices closed.
The doormen are bored,
chatting about nothing ..
on the ground floor ..
Not a paltry gossip.
to tell,
the "receptionist" ..
The dark, slow moving,.
and night lights.
Tangos are heard everywhere,
two dancers ... around them.
by "Florida" Street ..
It's all a party,
but .... a lie ..
They know that this city as chaotic,
takes his leave ...
Begins to emerge the hobgoblin of Piazzolla.
with its "Summer Porteño".
marking the passage of pedestrians,
delivering magic. that overwhelms,
Like all leather shops,
very full of tourists ..
My Buenos Aires ... I will prefer it that way,
crazy .. unless ... more serene.
Give me time to meditate.
that are unique.
Today, I also invites me,.
your unique beauty, ..
And our presence ..
those who do not have a handle.
. in the center ... or neighborhoods, ..
receive this award ..
Buenos Aires .... never forget ...never...
/ / Daniel H Guasti
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