Tango Lyrics in Spanish and English | |||
CHE BANDONEON | |||
Hey bandoneon (1950) | |
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Music by: Anibal Troilo | |||
Lyrics by: Homero Manzi | |||
Translated by: Alberto Paz | |||
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Last update on: 3/1/06 | |||
This
is one of three poems written by Homero Manzi in his final days. There
are quite a few recordings of this masterful tango. Alberto Podesta
with Francini-Pontier (1950); Jorge Casal with Anibal Troilo (1951);
Ricardo Blanco with Miguel Calo (1950); Alberto Arenas with Francisco
Canaro (1950); Nelly Omar (1969); Susana Rinaldi with Julian Plaza
(1969); Roberto Goyeneche with Anibal Troilo, perhaps the greatest of
them all... A purist in the use of the language, Manzi incorporates a
rare phonetic deformation of the English term Off-side (Orsai) which in
football means out of play, illegal position, out of place. | |||
Version en castellano | English translation | ||
El duende de tu son, che, bandoneón se apiada del dolor de los demás, y al estrujar tu fuelle dormilón, se arrima al corazón que sufre más. Esthercita y Mimí, como Ninón, dejando sus destinos de percal, vistieron al final mortaja de rayón al eco funeral de tu canción. Bandoneón, hoy es noche de fandango y puedo confesarte la verdad, copa a copa, pena a pena, tango a tango, embalado en la locura del alcohol y la amargura. Bandoneón, ¿para qué nombrarla tanto? ¿No ves que está de olvido el corazón y ella vuelve, noche a noche, como un canto en las gotas de tu llanto, che, bandoneón? Tu canto es el amor que no se dio, y el cielo que soñamos una vez, y el fraternal amigo que se hundió cinchando en la tormenta de un querer. Y esas ganas tremendas de llorar que a veces nos inundan sin razón, y el trago de licor que obliga a recordar si el alma está en orsai, che, bandoneón. | The goblin of your sound, hey, bandoneon takes pity of the pain of others, and when squeezing your sleepy bellows it comes closer to the heart that undergoes more suffering. Esthercita and Mimí, like Ninón, abandoning their destinies of percale, in the end they wore a rayon shroud to the funeral echo of your song. Bandoneón, today is a night to live it up and I can confess the truth to you, drink after drink, sadness after sadness, tango after tango, wrapped up in the madness of the alcohol and the bitterness. Bandoneón, why naming her as much? Don't you see that the heart's forgetting but she returns, night after night, like a song in the teardrops of your weeping, Hey, bandoneón? Your song is the love that did not occur, and the sky that we dreamed once, and the brotherly friend who sank working hard in the storm of a love affair. And those tremendous desires to cry that sometimes they flood us without reason, and the drink of liquor that forces us to remember if the soul is off-side, hey, bandoneón. | ||
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