“Joyful garret of Paris,
old memory and something gray
of those student years,
of dreamer and wanderer.

Who knows today where they will be
the companions of that yesterday
and that girlfriend of mine…
Strange memory…
the years go by
and I never forgot them.

An attic that was a poem
facing the waters of the Seine.
The snow that fell incessantly
painted a sad picture in the city.

And there, in the Latin Quarter,
the voice of an Argentine tango…
and those sad eyes of Mimi
crying the day I left.

That garret in Paris
it’s an old gray picture
that with pain I am looking,
because it is fading…

Those verses to Mimi,
sun and an April sky,
I keep remembering them…
Golden hair and blue eyes,
unforgettable for me.”