FAROL

Lamp post (1943)

LYRICS by: Homero Exposito

MUSIC by: Virgilio Exposito

TRANSLATION by: Alberto Paz

Last updated on: 1/12/12

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Sing along with ROBERTO CHANEL with ORQUESTA OSVALDO PUGLIESE

Although the original lyrics as written by Homero Exposito read, “con el tango en el bolsillo,” in this version recorded by Roberto Chanel in 1943, he sings, “con olor a cigarillo/with smell of cigarette.” This is not unusual. Many singers liked to change lyrics slightly, for no apparent reason, perhaps in some cases to meet the standards of society in their times. Politically correct tango singing?

CASTELLANO

ENGLISH

Un arrabal con casas que reflejan su color de lata… un arrabal humano con leyendas que se cantan como tangos… y alla un reloj que lejos da los dos de la manana… un arrabal obrero, una esquina de recuerdos y un farol… Farol… las cosas que ahora se ven farol… ya no es lo mismo que ayer… La sombra hoy se escapa a tu mirada y me deja mas tristona la mitad de la cortada; tu luz con el tango en el bolsillo fue perdiendo luz y brillo y es una cruz… Alli conversa el cielo con los sueños de un millon de obreros… alli murmura el viento los poemas populares de Carriego, y cuando alla a lo lejos dan las dos de la mañana, el arrabal parece que se duerme repitiendole al farol… Farol… las cosas que ahora se ven farol… ya no es lo mismo que ayer… La sombra hoy se escapa a tu mirada y me deja mas tristona la mitad de la cortada; tu luz con el tango en el bolsillo fue perdiendo luz y brillo y es una cruz…

A suburb with houses that reflect their tin color… a human suburb with legends that are sung like tangos… and at a distance a clock that strikes two o’clock in the morning… a working suburb, a corner of memories and a lamp post… Lamp post… the things that now can be seen lamp post… no longer is just like yesterday… The shadow today escapes your glance and it leaves gloomier half of the back alley, your light with the tango in the pocket was losing light and brightness and is a cross… There talks the sky with the dreams of a millon workers… there murmurs the wind the popular poems of Carriego, and when at a distant spot shows the two in the morning, the suburb seems to fall asleep repeating to the lamp post… Lamp post… the things that now can be seen lamp post… no longer is just like yesterday… The shadow today escapes your glance and it leaves gloomier half of the back alley, your light with the tango in the pocket was losing light and brightness and is a cross…

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