ESTA NOCHE
ME
EMBORRACHO.

Alone, worn out, falling apart, I saw her early this morning leaving a cabaret; thin, a neck two handspans long, and a coat hanger in her neckline below her Adam's apple; crooked-legged, dressed like a young girl, her hair dyed, flaunting her nakedness... She looked like a plucked rooster, showing off as she swaggered her pecked-at skin... I, who know when I can bear no more, seeing her like that, fled, so as not to cry.

And to think that ten years ago she drove me mad! That I went as far as betrayal for her beauty!... That what today is a wreck was the sweet infatuation in which I lost my honor; that, crazy for her beauty, I took bread from my mother, became vile and a sponger... That I was left without a friend, that I lived in bad faith, that she had me on my knees, without morals, turned into a beggar, when she left.

I never dreamed I would see her in a “requiscat in pace” as cruel as today's. Look, isn't it enough to kill yourself over, that because of that piece of junk I am what I am!... Fierce is the revenge of time, which makes you see in ruins what you once loved... This encounter has hurt me so much that if I think about it any more, I will end up poisoned. Tonight I will get thoroughly drunk, get smashed, really smashed, so as not to think.