Here's a poem by the Spanish poet Concha García. The translation is by me:

I'd like to be the man
with a thin mustache who takes the bus,
his hands aren't frozen.
A man of medium height
who is not headed for the bar
a man who chats
with the bus driver
and tells him: I've finished
for today it's done. Someone
who feels that for today it's done
and not to have frozen hands.
I've done it, he tells the driver.
In his lips there is a hint of illusion.
It's as though something else
were awaiting him
somewhere, I can't define what it is
that could make someone
of medium height and mustache
say, I'm done. I wonder
what type of sensation that might be. That he's done
and that probably he's done.
I don't know what he could have done
it's obvious in the way he says it

The interesting thing for me is the verb "acabar"--to end, to finish to be done, to accomplish something. At what point in the poem does "being done" change over from the sense of accomplishment to the sense of being "done" in the negative sense? The ambiguity carries through in the English translation.