Carlos Gardel
Miscellaneous
Whistling
A street in Barracas to the south,
A summer night
When the sky is bluer
And the song is sweeter of the Italian ship.
With its dim light, a lantern
With the shadows it dribbles
And in a hallway is a gallant
Talking with his love.
And, from the bottom of the dock,
Moaning in languid lament
The echo brings an accent
Of a monotonous accordion.
And a howl crosses the sky
Of some stray dog
And a meditative prisoner is whistling this song
A street, a lantern, she and him.
And arriving stealthily
The shadow of that man
To whom the unfaithful one once left the ungrateful girl.
A moan and a mortal scream
And shining among the shadows
The glare with which a facon
Delivers its fatal slash
And, from the bottom of the dock......

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