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Me quedé mirándola

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Me quedé mirándola (I Stayed There, Staring at Her) is the title of a tango written by Roberto Miró in 1945. The music was composed by Vicente Spina.




Vicente Spina

Year of composition:



Lyrics writer(s):

Roberto Miró

The poet narrates the painful reencounter with an old love. Seeing that there is no hope for a new beginning, since her beloved’s feelings for him have disappeared completely, the pain is so strong that he watches her walk away from his life once more, without being able to utter a single word.


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Spanish: Me quedé mirándola

Después de un año atroz de soledad
volvimos a encontrarnos sin querer.
De pronto los recuerdos de otros días
que cantaba y que reía
acudieron en tropel.
Mis labios balbucearon con temor,
los ojos le contaron mi dolor.
Mis ansias de encontrarla fueron tantas
que oprimida la garganta
me quedé mirándola.

Inútiles senderos fueron todos,
caminos recorridos sin vivir,
bordeados de dudas y dolores
y sólo sinsabores aumentan mi sufrir.
Mas ya no espero nada de la vida
ni ahora que la encuentro puede ser.
Lo dice su mirada distraída
que he matado para siempre
lo que fuera su querer.

Aquel ensueño roto del ayer
no puede ya volver a florecer.
La tengo ante mis ojos esta tarde
y comprendo que no hay nadie
en mi triste anochecer.
Ha vuelto sin llegar la que esperé;
la encuentro nuevamente y ya se va,
sabiendo que en su adiós está mi ruina.
Se alejó y de la esquina,
me quedé mirándola.

English: I Stayed There, Staring at Her

After an atrocious year of loneliness
we met again, by chance.
All at once the memories of days
when I sang and laughed
came to me in droves.
My lips babbled with fear,
my eyes revealed my pain.
My yearning for her was so strong
that, choking,
I stayed there, staring at her.

All paths were useless,
lifeless roads
lined with doubts and grief,
nothing but sorrows that increase my suffering.
But I don’t expect anything from life anymore,
not even now, that I encounter her, can it be.
Her distracted look says
I have forever killed the love that once was.

That broken dream-like fantasy of yesterday
can nevermore flourish.
This afternoon I have her before my eyes
and I understand I am alone
at my sad dusk.
She has come back but the one I waited for
did not arrive;
I find her again and she is leaving already,
knowing that in her goodbye lies my ruin.
She went away and I stayed there,
on the corner, staring at her.


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