The saloon fixed me with its ethanol,
Finding me a pack of cards to destroy
And my life as well.
Salmon and pistols, pastries and bullets
Were working fine for me, like a clock.
But the revolver was positioned in such a talented
Way that I wasted my life once.
Music erupted forming bubbles in the air,
Dams of bright water fulfilled the task.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem