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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. Esquinas porteñas     Dockside street-corners   Music: Sebastián Piana Lyrics: Homero Manzi Rec. by Angel D'Agostino with Angel Vargas   Tr. Jake Spatz Recited 31 Dec. 2006, Eastern Market   Esquina de barrio porteño te pintan los muros la luna y el sol. Te lloran las lluvias de invierno en las acuarelas de mi evocación. Treinta tardes conocen mi herida y cien callecitas nos vieron pasar. Se cruzaron tu vida y mi vida, tomaste la senda que no vuelve más. Street-corners down by the harbor, the moon and the sun are painting your walls... the winter downpours are crying over you in the watercolors of my memory. Thirty twilights have dimmed over my wound, a hundred side-streets watched us walking by. Your life and mine were a crossroads, and you took the path there's no returning from. Calles, donde la vida mansa perdió las esperanzas, la pasión y la fe. Calles, si sé que ya está muerta, golpeando en cada puerta por qué la buscaré. Callecitas, sombreadas de poesía, nos vieron ir un día felices los dos. Compañera del sol y las estrellas, se fue la tarde aquella camino de Dios. Streets, where the meek little lamb lost its hopes and its passions and its faith forevermore... Streets, if I know it's all long gone now, what am I trying to find with a knock on every door? Little streets, overshadowed with poetry, you watched us as we strolled happy wherever we trod... Companion of the sun and of the stars, that very night she left me and took the path of God. Los vientos murmuran mi pena. Las sombras me dicen que ya se marchó. Y escrito en las noches serenas encuentro su nombre como una obsesión. Esquinita de barrio porteño, con muros pintados de luna y de sol, que al llorar con tus lluvias de invierno manchás el paisaje de mi evocación. The winds whisper my agony. The shadows tell me it's all over. And I find her name like an obsession written all over the peaceful nights. Little corner down by the docks, walls awash in the moon and the sun, at the crying of your winter rains the scenes in my memory run. Table of Contents Questions? Comments? Email the Editor.
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