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Home Classes LYRICS Essays Links About	LYRICS Check back often for a harvest of tango lyrics translated by Jake Spatz NB: If the verses are out of alignment, try clicking "Refresh" in your web browser. Cafetín de Buenos Aires     Buenos Aires tavern   Music: Maríano Mores Lyrics: Enrique Santos Discépolo Rec. by Anibal Troilo with Edmundo Rivero   Tr. Jake Spatz Recited 29 March 2006, Divino Lounge   De chiquilín te miraba de afuera como a esas cosas que nunca se alcanzan... La ñata contra el vidrio en un azul de frío, que solo fue después vivendo igual al mio... Como una escuela de todas las cosas, ya de muchacho me diste entre asombros el cigarrillo, la fe en mis sueños y una esperanza de amor... As a little kid I looked at you from outside as at those things you never make your own... My nose up flat on your window in its icy blue demeanor, that only became my own later on, when I'd lived a little... Like a school that teaches all things, you gave to the astonished boy that I was a nice good smoke, faith in my dreams, and a hopefulness for love... ¿Como olvidarte en esta queja, cafetín de Buenos Aires, si sos lo único en la vida que se pareció a mi vieja? En tu mezcla milagrosa de sabihondos y suicidas, yo aprendí filosofía, dados, timba y la poesía cruel de no pensar más en mí... How could I forget you in this lament, Buenos Aires tavern, if you're the one thing in life that could take the place of my mother? In your miraculous hodgepodge of know-it-alls and suicides, I learned philosophy, dice, gambling, and the cruel poetry of thinking of myself no more... Me diste en oro un puñado de amigos, que son los mismos que alientan mis horas: José, el de la quimera; Marcial, que aún cree y espera; y el flaco Abel, que se nos fue, pero aún me guía... Sobre tus mesas que nunca preguntan lloré una tarde el primer desengaño; nací a las penas, bebí mis años y me entregué sin luchar. You gave me in gold a handful of friends, the same that cheer my hours on: José, with his head in the clouds; Marcial, who never stopped believing; and skinny Abel, no longer with us, but evermore my guide... Over your ever unquestioning tables I wept one evening in my first disillusion, was born into pains, drank down my years, and surrendered without a fight. Table of Contents Questions? Comments? Email the Editor.
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