Un bandoneón
con su resuello tristón.
La noche en el cristal
de la copa y del bar
y del tiempo que pasó…
Mi corazón
con su borracha emoción.
Y en otra voz, la voz
de la historia vulgar,
dice mi vulgar dolor…
Mariposita,
muchachita de mi barrio,
te busco por el centro,
te busco y no te encuentro,
siguiendo este calvario
con la cruz del mismo error.
Te busco porque acaso nos
iríamos del brazo…
Vos te equivocaste con tu arrullo
de sedas palpitantes,
y yo con mi barullo
de sueños delirantes,
en un mundo engañador.
¡Volvamos a lo de antes!
¡Dame el brazo y vámonos!
Ni vos ni yo
sabemos cuál se perdió.
Ni dónde el bien, ni el mal,
tuvo un día final
y otro día comenzó…
Yo bebo más
porque esta noche vendrás.
Mi corazón te ve;
pero habrá que beber mucho…
¡pero mucho más!…
A bandoneon
with its sad breath.
The night on the glass
of the cup and the bar
and of the time that passed…
My heart
with its drunken emotion.
And in another voice, the voice
of the common history,
says my vulgar pain …
Little butterfly,
girl from my neighborhood,
I look for you around down town,
I look and I don’t find you,
following this ordeal
with the cross of the same error.
I look for you because perhaps we
would go arm in arm…
You were wrong with your lullaby
of fluttering silk,
and I, with my racket
of delirious dreams,
in a deceitful world.
Let’s go back to before!
Give me your arm and go!
Neither you nor I
know which one was lost.
Nor where the good or evil,
had a final day
and another day began …
I drink more
because tonight you will come.
My heart sees you;
but it’ll have to drink a lot …
But much more! …
Copyright (c) Planet Tango 1998-2012 All Rights Reserved
Sing along with ANGEL VARGAS with ANGEL D’AGOSTINO
On November 3, 1905, the upper class clientele of the exclusive Restaurante Americano gathered as ususal listen to pianist Jose Luis Roncallo and his classical orchestra play. A few days earlier, Angel Villoldo had shown to Roncallo the melody of a Tango he had just composed. It was by far the best Villoldo had written but Roncallo fretted at the idea of playing a Tango for the “creme-de-la creme” of Buenos Aires society dining at the Restaurante Americano. Yet, the sound of the unnamed tune was so compelling that Roncallo decided to sneak it by disguised as a “danza criolla”, a Creole dance. And so, he did on that balmy evening of November 3, 1905. The name had been decided by Villoldo, who named it El choclo, the ear of corn, because “I loved it from the very first note, and for me the ear of corn is the tastiest ingredient of the ‘puchero’, a meat and vegetables stew …” The “puchero” reference reflected Villoldo’s hope that the success of the Tango would bring food to his table. To earn a living was commonly referred to as earning the “puchero.” An appropriate name for an undercover Tango being premiere at a restaurant.Juan Carlos Marambio Catan wrote the 1930 lyrics at the request of Villoldo’s sister and heir Irene Villoldo de Corona.Enrique Santos Disceopolo wrote a new set of lyrics in 1946 at the request of Libertad Lamarque who wished to sing the tango in the movie Gran Casino directed by Luis Buñuel. In order to do so, Discepolo had to reach a laborious agreement with Marambio Catan.In his version, Discepolo makes excellent use of lunfardo lexicon.Bailongo: lunfardo for a place where people dance, i.e. a milonga Bacan: lunfardo for a wealthy man or one who pretends to be wealthy. A man who keeps a woman. A pimp who owns a woman. A concubine of a prostitute. Cana: lunfardo for the police, a policeman or the jail. Canyengue: lunfardo word with several meanings. It refers to somebody or something from the slums, i.e. low class. It also describes a gathering where people from the slums dance. Finally, it is a rhytmic effect created by Leopoldo Thompson by hitting the string of the contrabass with the hand or the arch of the bow. Carancanfunfa: in the lingo of the compadritos, the dance of tango with interruptions (cortes) and also those who dance it that way in a very skillful manner. Gavion: lunfardo for a libertine man who seduces women. A Don Juan that charms the women. A seducer, a mocker. Grelas: lunfardo for woman. Mishiadura: lunfardo for poverty. Mina: lunfardo for woman. Paicas: a lunfardo word for girl. Pebeta: lunfardo for young woman or girl. Reo: lunfardo for hobo, unemployed, given to partying and reticent to work. Typical of people of lower class status. Also, it is used as humble, poor. Shusheta: lunfardo for a person who takes excessive care of his posture and attire. Also it is used to describe a police informant, a person who accuses in secret, a snitch. A fop, a dandy.
CASTELLANO
ENGLISH
VERSION DE DISCEPOLO DE 1946
1946 DISCEPOLO’S VERSION
Con este tango que es burlon y compadrito
se ato dos alas la ambicion de mi suburbio;
con este tango nacio el tango y como un grito
salio del sordido barrial buscando el cielo;
conjuro extraño de un amor hecho cadencia
que abrio caminos sin mas luz que la esperanza,
mezcla de rabia de dolor, de fe, de ausencia
llorando en la inocencia de un ritmo jugueton.
Por tu milagro de notas agoreras,
nacieron sin pensarlo, las paicas y las grelas,
luna en los charcos, canyengue en las caderas,
y un ansia fiera en la manera de querer…
Al evocarte, tango querido,
siento que tiemblan las baldosas de un bailongo
y oigo el rezongo de mi pasado…
Hoy que no tengo mas a mi madre,
siento que llega en punta’e pie para besarme
cuando tu canto nace al son de un bandoneon…
Carancanfunfa se hizo al mar con tu bandera
y en un ‘perno” mezclo a Paris con Puente Alsina.
Fuiste compadre del gavion y de la mina
y hasta comadre del bacan y la pebeta.
Por vos shusheta, cana, reo y mishiadura
se hicieron voces al nacer con tu destino…
Misa de faldas, querosen, tajo y cuchillo,
que ardio en los conventillos y ardio en mi corazon!
With this tango, mocking and show off,
tied two wings the ambition of my slum;
with this tango tango was born and like a shout
left the sordid bog looking for heaven;
strange spell of a love turned cadence
that opened paths with no more light than hope,
mixture of rage, pain, faith, absence
crying in the inocence of playful rhythm.
From the miracle of your ominous notes,
were born without a thought, the paicas and the grelas,
moon on the puddles, canyengue on the hips,
and a fiery desire in the way to love…
Evoking you, tango beloved…..
I feel the shaking of the tiles of a bailongo
and I hear the grumbling of my past…
Now that I don’t have my mother anymore,
I feel her coming in tiptoes to kiss me
when your chant is born to the sound of a bandoneon.
Carancanfunfa crossed the sea with your flag
and in a Pernod mixed Paris and Puente Alsina.
You were buddy of the gavion and the mina
and even crony of the bacan and the pebeta.
Because of you, shusheta, cana, reo and mishiadura
became voices that were born with your destiny…
Mass of skirts, kerosen, slash and knife,
that burned in the tenements and it burned in my heart!
VERSION DE MARAMBIO CATAN DE 1930
1930 MARAMBIO CATAN’S VERSION
Vieja milonga que en mi horas de tristeza,
traes a mi mente tu recuerdo cariñoso
y, encadenandome a tus notas dulcemente,
siento que el alma se me encoje poco a poco;
recuerdo triste de un pasado que en mi vida
dejo una pagina de sangre escrita a mano
y que se he llevado como cruz de mi martirio
aunque mi carga infame me llene de dolor.
Hoy que los años han blanqueado ya mis sienes,
que en mi pecho solo anida la tristeza
como una luz que ilumina en el sendero
llegan tus notas de melodica belleza.
Tango querido, viejo tango que me embargas
con la cadencia de tu musica sentida
quiero morir bajo el arrullo de tus quejas,
cantando mi querellas, llorando mi dolor
recuerdo aquella epoca, tan linda que se fue.
Old milonga that on my hours of sadness
brings to my mind an affectionate reminiscence
and chaining me to your notes sweetly,
I feel my soul shrinking little by little.
sad memory of a past that in my life
I leave a page of handwritten blood
and that I have carried my cross of martyrdom as
but my burden infamous fill me with pain.
Now that the years have whitened and my temples,
that nest in my chest just sadness
as a light that illuminates the path
your notes arrive melodic beauty.
Tango dear, old tango that overwhelms me
with the rhythm of your music felt
I want to die under the cooing of your moaning,
singing my complaints, crying my pain
I remember that time, so nice that has gone.
Copyright (c) Planet Tango 1998-2012 All Rights Reserved
Cada vez que te tengo en mis brazos,
que miro tus ojos, que escucho tu voz,
y que pienso en mi vida en pedazos
el pago de todo lo que hago por vos,
me pregunto: ¿ por qué no termino
con tanta amargura, con tanto dolor?…
Si a tu lado no tengo destino…
¿Por qué no me arranco del pecho este amor?
¿Por qué…
si mentís una vez,
si mentís otra vez
y volvés a mentir?…
¿Por qué…
yo te vuelvo a abrazar,
yo te vuelvo a besar
aunque me hagas sufrir?
Yo sé
que es tu amor una herida,
que es la cruz de mi vida,
y mi perdición…
¿Por qué
me atormento por vos
y mi angustia por vos
es peor cada vez?…
¿Y por qué,
con el alma en pedazos,
me abrazo a tus brazos,
si no me querés?
Yo no puedo vivir como vivo…
Lo sé, lo comprendo con toda razón,
si a tu lado tan sólo recibo
la amarga caricia de tu compasión…
Sin embargo… ¿Por qué yo no grito
que es toda mentira, mentira tu amor
y por qué de tu amor necesito,
si en él sólo encuentro martirio y dolor?
Every time that I hold you in my arms
I look at your eyes, I hear your voice
and I think about my life into pieces,
the payment for all I do for you.
I wonder “Why not finish
so much bitterness, so much pain?”
If next to you I have no future
why don’t I rip this love from my chest?
Why …
if you lie once,
if you lie another time
and you lie again…?
Why …
I embrace you again,
I kiss you again
even when you make me suffer?
I know
that your love is a wound,
it is the cross of my life
and my ruin.
Why
I’m tormented for you
and my anxiety for you
worsen each time? …
Why,
with the heart in pieces,
I cling to your arms,
if you don’t love me?
I can’t live like I live…
I know, I understand rightly
if with you all I get.
the bitter caress of your compassion …
But … Why I don’t cry
it’s all lies, your love is a lie
and why I need your love,
if in it I only find martyrdom and pain?
Copyright (c) Planet Tango 1998-2012 All Rights Reserved
This is the story of a man who casually runs into an old sweetheart after ten years of their separation.
In the first stanza he describes her with mocking words but then he recognizes that can’t endure the sight of her decline and flees feeling close to tears.
In the second stanza he now remembers when she was so beautiful that turned him crazy and drove him to betrayal of friends and principles so much as to sink his mother in poverty and losing all, even his human dignity just to give her luxury and pleasure. He ask himself how this “old wreck” could led him to ruin his life so completely.
In the third stanza he ends up thinking in a philosophical way, that he never thought he would see her the way she is now and fearing that if he entered too deep in those thoughts he could commit suicide. He decides to get so drunk as to keep his mind dumb enough to produce any thought.
CASTELLANO
ENGLISH
Sola, fané, descangayada,
la vi esta madrugada
salir de un cabaret;
flaca, dos cuartas de cogote
y una percha en el escote
bajo la nuez;
chueca, vestida de pebeta,
teñida y coqueteando
su desnudez…
Parecía un gallo desplumao,
mostrando al compadrear
el cuero picoteao…
Yo que sé cuando no aguanto más
al verla, así, rajé,
pa’ no yorar.¡
Y pensar que hace diez años,
fue mi locura!
¡Que llegué hasta la traición
por su hermosura!…
Que esto que hoy es un cascajo
fue la dulce metedura
donde yo perdí el honor;
que chiflao por su belleza
le quité el pan a la vieja,
me hice ruin y pechador…
Que quedé sin un amigo,
que viví de mala fe,
que me tuvo de rodillas,
sin moral, hecho un mendigo,
cuando se fue.
Nunca soñé que la vería
en un “requiscat in pace”
tan cruel como el de hoy.
¡Mire, si no es pa’ suicidarse
que por ese cachivache
sea lo que soy!…
Fiera venganza la del tiempo,
que le hace ver deshecho
lo que uno amó…
Este encuentro me ha hecho tanto mal,
que si lo pienso más
termino envenenao.
Esta noche me emborracho bien,
me mamo, ¡bien mamao!,
pa’ no pensar.
Lonely, ugly and all broken
I saw her this dawn
coming out of a nightclub.
Skinny, a full yard long of neck
And a hanger by neckline
under the chin.
Bowlegged, dressed as a broad,
hair-dyed and flirting
her nudity
She looked like a featherless bantam
mockingly showing off
her pecked hide.
I, that know when I am fed up,
Just run away from there
trying not to cry.
I recall ten years ago,
she was my craze.
I went far as to betrayal
for all her beauty.
This, that now is an old wreck,
was my sweet at heart
where I lost my dignity.
That crazy about her beauty,
I stole food from my mother,
I was mean and I was base.
I was left without a friend,
I lived a wrong and wicked life.
And she had me on my knees,
With no honor, just a beggar
When she left me.
Never I thought I’d see her
in a state of R.I.P,
so cruel and bad as I saw her today
Tell me, shouldn’t I kill myself
thinking that for this old junk
I was left as what I’m now.
Ugly this revenge of time
that lets you see destroyed
the one you loved.
This meeting made me feel so bad
That if I think it through
I’ll get poisoned,
this night I’ll drink me out,
thoroughly drunk
So I wont think.
Copyright (c) Planet Tango 1998-2012 All Rights Reserved
The percale was the fabric of choice of lower class women and it was a symbol of humility and virtue.
CASTELLANO
ENGLISH
Percal…
¿Te acuerdas del percal?
Tenias quince abriles,
anhelos de sufrir y amar,
de ir al centro, triunfar
y olvidar el percal.
Percal…
Camino del percal,
te fuiste de tu casa…
Tal vez nos enteramos mal.
Solo se que al final
te olvidaste el percal.
La juventud se fue…
Tu casa ya no está…
Y en el ayer tirados
se han quedado
acobardados
tu percal y mi pasado.
La juventud se fue…
Yo ya no espero más…
Mejor dejar perdidos
los anhelos que no han sido
y el vestido de percal.
Llorar…
¿Por qué vas a llorar?…
¿Acaso no has vivido,
acaso no aprendiste a amar,
a sufrir, a esperar,
y también a callar?
Percal…
Son cosas del percal…
Saber que estás sufriendo
saber que sufrirás aún más
y saber que al final
no olvidaste el percal.
Percal…
Tristezas del percal.
Percale …
Remember the percale? …
You were barely fifteen,
longings of suffering and loving,
of going downtown, to succeed
and forget the percale …
Percale …
Road of the percale …
You left your house
Maybe we heard wrong,
I only know that at the end
You forgot the percale…
The youth is gone…
Your home isn’t there…
And in the past, discarded
They’ve remained,
cowering
Your percale and my past …
The youth is gone
I no longer wait
Best to let be lost
The longings that have not been
And the percale dress …
To cry…
Why are you going to cry…?
Haven’t you lived,
haven’t you learned to love,
to suffer, to wait
and also to be silent…?
Percale …
They’re things about the percale …
Knowing that you are suffering,
Knowing that you’ll suffer even more
And knowing that at the end
You didn’t forget the percale…
Percale …
Sadness of the percale …
Copyright (c) Planet Tango 1998-2012 All Rights Reserved
This is one of the most romantic lyrics with a positive message of love apt for being dedicated to a friend or loved one.
CASTELLANO
ENGLISH
Quisiera que la vida les brindara
A los jóvenes amigos, una piba como vos.
Que todos, como yo, tuvieran cerca
La caricia y la ternura, de una piba como vos.
La vida se hace hermosa y lisonjera,
Es eterna primavera si a mi lado oigo tu voz.
Las flores me sonríen cuando paso
Recreándome del brazo, de la dueña de mi amor.
La lluvia es alegre y alocada
Si la veo en la mirada de una piba como vos.
El viento es caricia que arrebata,
Que me empuja, que me arrastra
Con fuerza de juventud.
La vida es un puñado de primores
Si se tienen los amores de una piba como vos.
El cielo me parece tan cercano
Que una estrella hay en mi mano
Una estrella como vos
I wish life would give bring
To young friends, a girl like you.
That everyone, like me, had near
The caress and tenderness, of a girl like you.
Life is beautiful and flattering
It is eternal spring if by my side if I hear your voice.
The flowers smile at me when I walk
With pleasure, arm in arm with the lady of my love.
Rain is happy and crazy
If I see it in the eyes of a girl like you.
The wind is caress that captivates,
That pushes me, that pulls me
With the force of youth.
Life is a bunch of beauties
If one has the love of a girl like you.
The sky seems so close
That a star is in my hand
A star like you.
Copyright (c) Planet Tango 1998-2012 All Rights Reserved
Julio Sosa’s rendition of Madam Yvonne is the best to my taste. The late Uruguayan singer wrote the recited verses that serve as an introduction to the tango. The word “mamuasel” is a phonetic replication in Argentine jargon of the original “madmoiselle.” He substituted “Les Quatre Arts” for “aquel boulevard” (that boulevard). Also, in the 7th verse he sings “Until one day an Argentine man arrived”.
CASTELLANO
ENGLISH
RECITADO
Ivonne,
yo te conocí allá en el viejo Montmartre,
cuando el cascabel de plata de tu risa
era un refugio para nuestra bohemia
y tu cansancio y tu anemia
no se dibujaban aun detrás de tus ojeras violetas.
Yo te conocí cuando el amor te iluminaba por dentro
y te adoré de lejos, sin que lo supieras
y sin pensar que confesándote este amor
podría haberte salvado.
Te conocí cuando era yo un estudiante de bolsillo flacos
y el París nocturno de entonces
danzaba al espacio en una cascada de luces
el efímero reinado de un nombre,
Mademoiselle Ivonne…
FIN RECITADO
Mamuasel Ivonne era una pebeta
que en el barrio posta de viejo Montmartre,
con su pinta brava de alegre griseta
animó la fiesta de Les Quatre Arts.
Era la papusa del barrio latino
que supo a los puntos del verso inspirar…
Pero fue que un día llego un argentino
y a la francesita la hizo suspirar.
Madame Ivonne,
la Cruz del Sur fue como el sino,
Madame Ivonne,
fue como el sino de tu suerte…
Alondra gris,
tu dolor me conmueve,
tu pena es de nieve…
Madame Ivonne…
Han pasado diez años que zarpó de Francia,
Mamuasel Ivonne hoy solo es Madam…
La que va a ver que todo quedó en la distancia
con ojos muy tristes bebe su champán.
Ya no es la papusa del Barrio Latino,
ya no es la mistonga florcita de lis,
ya nada le queda… Ni aquel argentino
que entre tango y mate la alzó de París
RECITED
Yvonne
I met you back in the old Montmartre,
when the silver bell of your laughter
was a haven for our Bohemia
and your tiredness and your anemia
were not drawn behind your dark circles violets yet.
I knew you when love lit you from inside
and I worshiped you from afar, without you knowing
and without thinking that confessing this love
I could have saved you.
I knew you when I was a student of lean pockets
and the Paris night back then
danced into space in a cascade of lights
the brief reign of a name,
Mademoiselle Yvonne …
END RECITED
Yvonne was a young girl
that in the choice district of old Montmartre,
with her blustery elegance of happy streetwalker
animated the partying at Les Quatre Arts.
She was the pretty thing of the Latin quarter
who used to inspire the verse writers…
But it was that one day, an Argentine man arrived
and to the little French girl he made her sigh.
Madame Ivonne,
the Southern Cross was like the destiny,
Madame Ivonne,
was as the destiny of your luck …
Skylark gray
Your pain moves me,
Your sorrow is of snow …
Madame Ivonne …
It has been ten years since she sailed from France,
Mamuasel Ivonne today is only Madam …
Who sees everything long way away at a distance
with very sad eyes she drinks her champagne.
She is no longer the pretty thing of the Latin Quarter,
she no longer is the humble lily flower,
She has nothing is left … Nor even that Argentine man
who between tango and green tea lifted her from Paris
Copyright (c) Planet Tango 1998-2012 All Rights Reserved
Hasta siempre, amor,
pasarás de otro brazo
y dolerá el fracaso
igual que hoy.
Hasta siempre, amor,
corazón como el mío,
que compartió tu hastío,
no encontrarás.
Y entre la gente buscarás
la mano amiga que te di
y sólo así comprenderás
que por quererte te perdí.
Hasta siempre, amor,
pasarás de otro brazo
y dolerá el fracaso
igual, igual que hoy.
Hasta siempre, amor,
Hoy me sangra el recuerdo
como una espina nueva
del corazón.
Hasta siempre, amor,
cuando sueñes conmigo
en las noches de frío
ya no estaré.
Y no me llames, si me ves
a mi también con otro amor,
porque es inútil esperar
si la esperanza ya murió.
Hasta siempre, amor,
pasarás de otro brazo
y dolerá el fracaso
igual, igual que hoy.
Farewell, love,
you’ll move to another arm
and the failure will hurt
same as today.
Farewell, love,
heart like mine,
which shared your distaste,
you won’t find.
And among people you’ll seek
the friendly hand I gave you
and only then you’ll understand
that for loving you I lost you.
Farewell, love,
you’ll move to another arm
and the failure will hurt
Same, same as today.
Farewell, love,
Today the recall bleeds
as a new spine
of the heart.
Farewell, love,
when you dream with me
on cold nights
I will not longer be there.
And don’t call me, if you see me
with another love too,
because it is useless to expect
if hope already died.
Farewell, love,
you’ll move to another arm
and the failure will hurt
Same, same as today.
Copyright (c) Planet Tango 1998-2012 All Rights Reserved
From the Album de Oro de Julio Sosa, this is poem written by Celedonio Flores and recited by Julio Sosa over the background of the classic tango La cumparsita by Gerardo Matos Rodriguez.
CASTELLANO
ENGLISH
Pido permiso señores
que este tango… este tango habla por mi
y mi voz entre sus sones dira
dira porqué canto asi…
Porque cuando pibe me acunaba en tangos
la canción materna que llamaba al sueño,
y escuché el rezongo de los bandoneones
bajo el emparrado de mi patio pobre.
Porque vi el desfile de las inclemencias
con mis pobres ojos de llorar abiertos,
y en aquella pieza de mis buenos viejos
tuvo la pobreza su mejor canción…
Y yo me hice en tangos,
me fui modelando en odio, en tristeza,
en las amarguras que da la pobreza,
en llantos de madres,
en las rebeldías del que es fuerte y tiene
que cruzar los brazos
cuando el hambre viene…
Y yo me hice en tangos,
porque es bravo, fuerte,
tiene algo de vida,
tiene algo de muerte…
Porque quise mucho, porque me engañaron,
y pasé la vida barajando sueños…
Porque soy un árbol que vivió sin flores,
porque soy un perro que no tiene dueño…
Porque tengo odios que nunca los digo,
porque cuando quiero me desangro en besos…
Porque quise mucho y no me han querido…
¡Por eso yo canto tan triste, por eso! querido
por eso, canto, tan triste…
!por eso!
I beg your pardon, gentlemen,
This tango … this tango speaks for me
And my voice in its sounds will tell…
It will tell why I sing this way.
Because as a kid,
Because as a kid, the maternal song cradled me in tango
To put me to sleep.
And I heard the grumbling of the bandoneon
Under the arbor of the old patio;
Because I saw the parade of the elements
With my poor eyes watery and open
And in the sad room of my good parents
Poverty sang its winter song.
And I was made in tangos,
I was being molded in mud, in misery,
In the bitterness that comes with poverty
In maternal tears,
In the rebellion of being strong and having to cross the arms
When famine strikes.And I was made in tangos
Because … Because tango is male!
Because tango is strong!,
It has something of life,
It has something of death;
Because I loved a lot, and because I was cheated
I spent my life shuffling dreams;
Because I’m a tree that never bore fruit,
Because I’m a dog that has no owner,
Because I feel hatred that I never express,
Because when I love, because when I love I bleed in kisses,
Because I loved a lot, and they have not loved me;
That’s why I sing, so sad…
That’s why, I sing, so sad
That’s why.
Copyright (c) Planet Tango 1998-2012 All Rights Reserved
Sing along with HECTOR PACHECO with OSVALDO FRESEDO
Dedicated to all the girls I loved
CASTELLANO
ENGLISH
Esta puerta se abrió para tu paso.
Este piano tembló con tu canción.
Esta mesa, este espejo y estos cuadros
guardan ecos del eco de tu voz.
Es tan triste vivir entre recuerdos…
Cansa tanto escuchar ese rumor
de la lluvia sutil que llora el tiempo
sobre aquello que quiso el corazón.
No habrá ninguna igual, no habrá ninguna,
ninguna con tu piel ni con tu voz.
Tu piel, magnolia que mojó la luna.
Tu voz, murmullo que entibió el amor.
No habrá ninguna igual, todas murieron
en el momento que dijiste adiós.
Cuando quiero alejarme del pasado,
es inútil… me dice el corazón.
Ese piano, esa mesa y esos cuadros
guardan ecos del eco de tu voz.
En un álbum azul están los versos
que tu ausencia cubrió de soledad.
Es la triste ceniza del recuerdo
nada más que ceniza, nada más…
This door was opened for you.
This piano trembled with your song.
This table, this mirror and these pictures
keep echoes of the echo of your voice.
It’s so sad to live among memories …
It’s tiresome to hear the murmur
of the subtle rain crying time
about what the heart wanted.
There will be no equal, there will be none,
none with your skin or your voice.
Your skin, magnolia wet by the moon.
Your voice, whisper that warmed the love.
There will be no equal, they all died
the instant you said goodbye.
When I want to get away from the past,
is useless … the heart tells me.
That piano, that table and those pictures
keep echoes of the echo of your voice.
In a blue album are the verses
that your absence covered with loneliness.
It’s the sad ash of remembrance
nothing more than ash, nothing more …
Copyright (c) Planet Tango 1998-2012 All Rights Reserved
