Archive for the ‘Horacio Pettorossi’ Tag

Lo han visto con otra   Leave a comment

LO HAN VISTO CON OTRA
They’ve seen him with someone else (1928)
LYRICS by: Horacio Pettorossi
MUSIC by: Horacio Pettorossi
TRANSLATION by: Alberto Paz
Last updated on: 1/6/12
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Listen

Sing along with EDMUNDO RIVERO with ORQUESTA HORACIO SALGAN

Requested by Juan from Switzerland. “Te agradezco anticipadamente y te felicito por el maravilloso trabajo que hacen, para poder compartir con argentinos por el mundo amantes del tango. Saludos, Juan”
CASTELLANO
ENGLISH
Lo han visto con otra, te han dicho esta tarde
lo han visto con otra, con otra mujer,
Que no lo querias hacias alarde
mas hoy confesabas tu hondo querer.
Ya ves vecinita, lo ingrata que has sido
ayer te burlabas de su pobre amor
pero hoy una amiga te ha dicho al oido:
“Lo he visto con otra”, y lloras de dolor.

Tango, tango,
vos que fuiste el amigo
confidente de su amor.
Tango, tango,
hoy precisa de tu ayuda
para calmar su dolor
Tango, tango,
vos que estas en todas partes
esta noche es la ocasion
de que llegue hasta su reja
el eco de una queja
de un triste bandoneon

Yo tengo una pena que llevo en el alma
por una perversa que no se olvidar
sus ojos muy negros robaron mi calma
y sufro en silencio yo no se llorar
Ya ves yo no tengo tampoco alegrias,
por eso me apena el verte sufrir,
tambien en mis noches muy tristes y frias
las horas son largas, no puedo dormir.

They’ve seen him with someone else, they told you this afternoon
they’ve seen him with someone else, with another woman,
That you didn’t love him, you had been boasting
but now you confessed your deep love.
So you see, little neighbor, how ungrateful you’ve been
Yesterday you mocked his poor love
but today a friend has told you in the ear:
“They have seen him with another woman,” and you cry from the pain.

Tango, tango,
you who were the friend
confident of his love.
Tango, tango,
today she needs your help
to sooth her pain.
Tango, tango,
you who are everywhere
tonight is the occasion
that it come into her gate
the echo of a moaning
of a sad bandoneon.

I have a pain that I carry in my soul
for a perverse one that I didn’t know how to forget
her very black eyes stole my calm
and I suffer in silence and I do not how to cry
You see I have no joys either,
that’s why I’m sorry to see you suffer,
also in my nights very sad and cold
the hours are long, I can not sleep.


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

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Acquaforte   1 comment

ACQUAFORTE
Etching (1931)
LYRICS by: Juan Carlos Marambio Catán
MUSIC by: Horacio Pettorossi
TRANSLATION by: Laureano Fernandez (assisted by Michael Strand)
Last updated on: 5/15/10
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Sing along with Agustin Magaldi
The name of this tango is in Italian and it means “etching”, an engraving technique perfected by Spaniard Francisco Goya and Lucientes at the beginning of the 19th century . Etching has since been closely associated with the representation of tipical custom scenes. Marambio Catan wrote the lyrics in 1931. The tango was inspired by the cabaret Excelsior in Milan. Benito Mussolini was the ruler in Italy at the time. Catan and Pettorossi were aprehensive about presenting their tango because of the anarchist ideas implied in scenes describing suffering mothers, homeless children and a dirty old man squandering money on champagne after having denied a raise to an employee who wanted another slice of bread. To their relief, tenor Gino Franci introduced to the public with great success.
CASTELLANO
ENGLISH
Es medianoche. El cabaret despierta.
Muchas mujeres, flores y champán.
Va a comenzar la eterna y triste fiesta
De los que viven al ritmo de un gotán.
Cuarenta años de vida me encadenan,
Blanca la testa, viejo el corazón:
Hoy puedo ya mirar con mucha pena
Lo que otros tiempos miré con ilusión.

Las pobres milongas,
Dopadas de besos,
Me miran extrañas,
Con curiosidad.
Ya no me conocen:
Estoy solo y viejo,
No hay luz en mis ojos…
La vida se va…

Un viejo verde que gasta su dinero
Emborrachando a Lulú con su champán
Hoy le negó el aumento a un pobre obrero
Que le pidió un pedazo más de pan.
Aquella pobre mujer que vende flores
Y fue en mi tiempo la reina de Montmartre
Me ofrece, con sonrisa, unas violetas
Para que alegren, tal vez, mi soledad.

Y pienso en la vida:
Las madres que sufren,
Los hijos que vagan
Sin techo ni pan,
Vendiendo “La Prensa”,
Ganando dos guitas…
Que triste es todo esto!
Quisiera llorar!

It’s midnight. The cabaret’s wakin’ up.
A lot of women, flowers, and champagne
The eternal sad party of those who live
to the beat of a tango is about to begin.
I’m chained by forty years of life,
with a grey-haired head and an old heart:
Today I can watch with a lot of sorrow
what at other times I saw through rose-colored glasses.

The poor taxi dancers,
Stupified by kisses,
Stare at me, as if strangers,
With curiosity.
They don’t recognize me anymore.
I’m lonely and old.
There’s no light in my eyes …
Life is getting shorter.

An old rake that spends his money
Getting Lulu’ drunk with his champagne
Today he denied a raise to a poor worker
Who asked him for one more piece of bread.
That poor woman who sells flowers
who was the queen of Montmartre in my time,
Offers me, with a smile, some violets,
Maybe to make my loneliness less blue.

And I think about life:
mothers that suffer,
children that roam
with neither bread nor a roof,
selling newspapers,
for two cents …
How sad it all is!
I feel like cryin’!

Copyright (c) Planet Tango 1998-2010 All Rights Reserved