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Se dice de mi   Leave a comment

SE DICE DE MI
It’s said about me (1943)
LYRICS by: Francisco Canaro & Ivo Pelay
MUSIC by: Francisco Canaro & Ivo Pelay
TRANSLATION by: Alberto Paz
Last updated on: 8/24/13
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Sing along with TITA MERELLO with FRANCISCO CANARO

My favorite dance is the milonga, and my favorite milonga is: “Se Dice de mí” by Tita Merello. Any chance of a translation? Regards, and thank you for your work. – Andrew
CASTELLANO
ENGLISH
Se dice de mi,
Se dice de mi,
Se dice que soy fiera,
que camino a lo malevo,
que soy chueca y que me muevo
con un aire compadrón,
que parezco Leguisamo,
mi nariz es puntiaguda,
la figura no me ayuda
y mi boca es un buzón.

Si charlo con Luis, con Pedro o con Juan,
hablando de mi los hombres están.
Critican si ya, la línea perdí,
se fijan si voy, si vengo o si fui.

Se dicen muchas cosas,
mas si el bulto no interesa,
porque pierden la cabeza
ocupándose de mi.
Yo se que muchos que desprecian con mentiras
y suspiran y se mueren cuando piensan en mi amor.
Y mas de uno se derrite si suspiro
y se quedan si los miro resoplando como un Ford.

Si fea soy,
pongámosle,
que de eso aun no me entere,
en el amor, yo solo se,
que a mas de un gil, deje de a pie.

Podrán decir, podrán hablar,
y murmurar, y rebuznar,
mas la fealdad que dios me dio,
mucha mujer me la envidio
y no dirán que me engrupi
porque modesta siempre fui.
Yo soy así

Y ocultan de mi,
ocultan que yo tengo,
unos ojos soñadores,
además otros primores
que producen sensación.
Si soy fiera se que en cambio,
tengo un cutis de muñeca,
los que dicen que soy chueca,
no me han visto en camisón.
Los hombres de mi. critican la voz,
el modo de andar, la pinta, ehe!, la tos.

Critican si ya la línea perdí,
se fijan si voy, si vengo, o si fui.
Se dicen muchas cosas,
mas si el bulto no interesa,
porque pierden la cabeza
ocupándose de mi.

Yo se que hay muchos me desprecian compañía,
y suspiran y se mueren cuando piensan en mi amor.
Y mas de uno se derrite si suspiro
y se quedan si los miro resoplando como un Ford.

Si fea soy,
pongámosle,
que de eso aun no me entere,
en el amor, yo solo se,
que a mas de un gil, deje de a pie.

Podrán decir, podrán hablar,
y murmurar, y rebuznar,
mas la fealdad que dios me dio,
mucha mujer me la envidio,
y no dirán que me engrupi
porque modesta siempre fui.
Yo soy así

It’s said about me
It’s said about me,
Its’ said that I’m ugly,
that I walk like a quarrelsome person,
that I’m bowlegged and that I move
with a conceited attitude,
that I look like (jockey Ireneo) Leguisamo,
my nose is pointy,
the silhouette doesn’t help
and my mouth is like a mail box.

If I chat with Luis, with Pedro or with Juan,
the men are talking about me.
They criticize if I already my waistline is gone,
they check if I go, if I come or if I left.

Many things are said
but the shape doesn’t matter,
because they lose their head
concerning themselves about me.
I know that many snub with lies
and sigh for me and die when they think of my love.
And more than one melts if I sigh
and if I look at them, they’re puffing like a Ford.

If I’m ugly,
let’s say it’s so,
though I’m not aware of that,
when it comes to love, all I know,
that I left stranded more than one fool.

They might say, they might talk,
and gossip and bray,
but the ugliness that God gave me
many women envied it
and they won’t say that I deceived myself
because I always was modest.
I am this way.

And they hush about me,
they hide that I have,
some dreamy eyes
besides other charms
that produce sensation.
If I’m ugly, I know that instead,
I have the skin of a doll,
those who say I’m bowlegged,
have not seen me in a nightgown.
The men criticize my voice,
the way I move, the appearance, ahem, the cough.

They criticize if I already my waistline is gone,
they check if I go, if I come or if I left.
Many things are said
but the shape doesn’t matter,
because they lose their head
concerning themselves about me.

I know that many snub the company I keep
and sigh for me and die when they think of my love.
And more than one melts if I sigh
and if I look at them, they gasp like they score a Ford.

If I’m ugly,
let’s say it’s so,
though I’m not aware of that,
when it comes to love, all I know,
that I left stranded more than one fool.

They might say, they might talk,
and gossip and bray,
but the ugliness that God gave me
many women envied it
and they won’t say that I deceived myself
because I always was modest.
I am this way.

Copyright (c) Planet Tango 1998-2013 All Rights Reserved

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Posted August 24, 2013 by Alberto & Valorie in Ivo Pelay

Tagged with , , ,

Adios pampa mia   1 comment


Updated 9/6/10

ADIOS PAMPA MIA
Farewell to my pampa (1945)
LYRICS by: Ivo Pelay
MUSIC by: Francisco Canaro and Mariano Mores
TRANSLATION by: Frank Sasson
Last updated on: 9/30/10
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Sing along with Alberto Castillo with the Osvaldo Requena orchestra
Comments
CASTELLANO
ENGLISH
¡Adiós pampa mía!…
Me voy… Me voy a tierras extrañas
adiós, caminos que he recorrido,
ríos, montes y cañadas,
tapera donde he nacido.
Si no volvemos a vernos,
tierra querida,
quiero que sepas
que al irme dejo la vida.
¡Adiós!…Al dejarte, pampa mía,
ojos y alma se me llenan
con el verde de tus pastos
y el temblor de las estrellas…
Con el canto de tus vientos
y el sollozar de vihuelas
que me alegraron a veces,
y otras me hicieron llorar.¡Adiós pampa mía!…
Me voy camino de la esperanza.
Adiós, llanuras que he galopado,
sendas, lomas y quebradas,
lugares donde he soñado.
Yo he de volver a tu suelo,
cuando presienta
que mi alma escapa
como paloma hasta el cielo…
¡Adiós!…
¡Me voy, pampa mía!…
¡Adiós!…

Goodbye, my pampa !…
I’m leaving… I’m leaving for strange lands
Goodbye, roads that I have travelled,
rivers, hills and ravines,
the shack where I was born.
If we don’t see each other again,
my loved land,
I want you to know
That in my departure I leave my life
Goodbye !. . .In leaving you, my pampa
My eyes and my soul get filled
With the green of your grass
and the trembling of the stars;
with the singing of the winds
and the weeping of the guitars
That sometimes made me happy
And other times made me cry.Goodbye . . . my Pampa
I’m leaving on the road of hope
Goodbye, plains that I have galloped
paths, hills and ravines
Places where I have dreamed.
I will return to your soil
when I have a premonition
That my soul is escaping
Like a dove, up to the sky.
Goodbye !
I’m leaving, my pampa! …
Goodbye!…

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