JIRON PORTEÑO

A Buenos Aires rag

LYRICS by: Julio Plácido Navarrine

MUSIC by: Juan Raggi

TRANSLATION by: Alberto Paz

Last updated on: 1/10/12

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Sing along with JULIO MARTEL with ORQUESTA ALFREDO DE ANGELIS

Discepolo’s childhood and adolescence seem to justify many of his verses, but who is responsible for his many verses about unhappy love? Discépolo looks for the figure of God to protest about life, which is a mess, and to recall the betrayal of a loved one. Was Tania, his wife, the inspiring muse of this verses?

CASTELLANO

ENGLISH

¡El conventillo luce su traje de “etiqueta”! Las mozas van llegando dispuestas a mostrar, Que hay galas domingueras, que hay porte y hay silueta Igual que los galanes, deseosos de tanguear. La orquesta ya musita un tango acompasado Las parejitas pasan rimando esta canción: ”La princesita rosa de rulo ensortijado Espera a su “Romeo” como una bendición”…El dueño de la casa Atiende a las visitas, Los pibes alborotan Gritando en derredor… Jugando a la rayuela Al rango, a las bolitas, Mientras un gringo alegre Se siente payador… Se anuncia ya en la orquesta “el tango de la yapa” Una morocha besa, temblando de emoción, El ramo de violetas que prende a la solapa Del porteñito humilde, “señor” de su ilusión. Termina ya la fiesta… Las mozas retrecheras Prendidas van del brazo que acuna su pasión, Llevando de esperanzas un cielo en sus ojeras Y un mundo de cariño dentro del corazón.

The tenement sports its formal suit! The girls arrive ready to show, Sunday best attires, distinguished air and figure Like the suitors, eager to Tangier. The orchestra and mumble a rhythmic tango The lovebirds spend rhyming this song: “The princess pink curly hair curler Wait for his “Romeo” a blessing…”The man of the house Attend to visitors, The kids fuss Screaming around… Playing hopscotch At the range, marbles, While a happy gringo Thinks he’s a gaucho minstrel… The orchestra announces the last tango for the road A brunette kisses, shaking with emotion, The bouquet of violets she pins on the lapel of a humble porteñito, “lord” of her illusion. The party already ends … The wily girls Are holding on the arms that cradle their passion, Wearing a sky of hope in the bags under their eyes And a world of love within their hearts.

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Copyright (c) Planet Tango 1998-2012 All Rights Reserved

BAILARIN COMPADRITO

Braggart dancer (1929)

LYRICS by: Miguel Bucino

MUSIC by: Miguel Bucino

TRANSLATION by: Alberto Paz

Last updated on: 11/9/11

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Sing along with OSCAR LARROCA with ALFREDO DE ANGELIS Sing along with TITO REYES with ANIBAL TROILO

CASTELLANO

ENGLISH

Vestido como un dandy, peinao a la gomina y dueño de una mina más linda que una flor, bailás en la milonga con aire de importancia, luciendo tu elegancia y haciendo exhibición. Cualquiera iba a decirte, che, reo de otros tiempos, que un día llegarías a rey del cabaret, que pa’ enseñar tu corte pondrías academia… Al taura siempre premia la suerte que es mujer. Bailarín compadrito, que floriaste tu corte primero, en el viejo bailongo orillero de Barracas al sur. Bailarín compadrito, que quisiste probar otra vida, y al lucir tu famosa corrida te viniste al Maipú. Araca, cuando a veces oís La Cumparsita yo sé cómo palpita tu cuore al recordar que un día lo bailaste de lengue y sin un mango y ahora el mismo tango bailás hecho un bacán. Pero algo vos darías por ser sólo un ratito el mismo compadrito del tiempo que se fue, pues cansa tanta gloria y un poco triste y viejo te ves en el espejo del viejo cabaret.

Dressed like a dandy, hair slicked with styling gel and owning a woman who is prettier than a flower, you dance at the milonga with an air of importance, shining the elegance and giving exhibition. Anyone was going to tell you, you, rascal of other times, that one day you would become a night club king, that to teach your moves you would open an academy… Luck, that is a woman, always rewards the tough one. Braggart dancer, that first showed off your moves, at the old outskirts public dance from the south of Barracas. Braggart dancer, that wanted to try another life, and to show off your famous run you came to the Maipú. Watch it, sometimes when you hear La Cumparsita I know how your heart beats when remembering that one day you danced it in shirt sleeves and without a dime and now you dance the same tango looking like a wealthy man. But you’d give anything for being just for a moment the same braggart of a time that went away, because so much glory is tiresome and a little sad and old you see yourself in the mirror of the old night club.

Copyright (c) Planet Tango 1998-2011 All Rights Reserved

LUNES

Monday (1927)

LYRICS by: Francisco Garcia Jimenez

MUSIC by: Jose Luis Padula

TRANSLATION by: Alberto Paz

Last updated on: 2/1/11

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Sing along with Carlos Dante with Alfredo de Angelis

Comments

CASTELLANO

ENGLISH

Un catedrático escarba su bolsillo pa’ ver si un níquel le alcanza pa’ un completo… Ayer -¡qué dulce!-, la fija del potrillo; hoy -¡qué vinagre!-, rompiendo los boletos… El almanaque nos bate que es lunes, que se ha acabado la vida bacana, que viene al humo una nueva semana con su mistongo programa escorchador.Rumbeando pa’l taller va Josefina, que en la milonga, ayer, la iba de fina. La reina del salón ayer se oyó llamar… Del trono se bajó pa’ir a trabajar… El lungo Pantaleón ata la chata de traje fulerón y en alpargata. Ayer en el Paddock jugaba diez y diez… Hoy va a cargar carbón al Dique 3.Piantó el domingo del placer, bailongo, póker y champán. Hasta el más seco pudo ser por diez minutos un bacán. El triste lunes se asomó, mi sueño al diablo fue a parar, la redoblona se cortó y pa’l laburo hay que rumbear. Pero, ¿qué importa que en este monte criollo hoy muestre un lunes en puerta el almanaque? Si en esa carta caímos en el hoyo, ya ha de venir un domingo que nos saque. No hay mal, muchachos, que dure cien años y ligaremos también un bizcocho… A lo mejor acertamos las ocho ¡y quién te ataja ese día, corazón!…

An expert in predicting the outcome of horse races digs in his pocket to see if a nickel is enough to get some breakfast. Yesterday – how sweet! – The bet on a colt; today – how sour! – tearing off the tickets … The calendar tells us it is Monday, that the good life is over, that a new week is blowing in with its poor annoying plan.Heading for the shop goes Josefina, who in the milonga, yesterday pretended to be fine. The queen of the dance hall she heard being called yesterday She stepped down the throne to go to work … Long tall Pantaleon prepares the truck dressed sloppily and wearing sandals. Yesterday in the Paddock he bet ten and ten … Today he’s going to load coal at dock 3.The Sunday of pleasure is gone dance hall, poker and champagne. Even the poorest guy was a well to do for ten minutes. The blue Monday showed up, my dream went to hell, the double bet failed and we must head for work. But what matters that in this card game Today the calendar shows a Monday at the door? If in that card we fell into the hole, there will be a Sunday to dig us up No bad deed, guys, lasts one hundred years and we also will get some cake … Maybe we win the bets on the eight races And who stops you that day, my love!

Copyright (c) Planet Tango 1998-2011 All Rights Reserved