La Cantina (The Tavern)
La Cantina (The Tavern)
Music: Aníbal Troilo
Lyrics: Cátulo Castillo
Translation: Felipe & Ayano
Recorded by Aníbal Troilo with Jorge Casal in 1954
Embedded Files
Español
Español
Ha plateado la luna el Riachuelo
y hay un barco que vuelve del mar,
con un dulce pedazo de cielo
con un viejo puñado de sal.
Golondrina perdida en el viento,
por qué calle remota andará,
con un vaso de alcohol y de miedo
tras el vidrio empañado de un bar.
La cantina
llora siempre que te evoca
cuando toca, piano, piano,
su acordeón el italiano…
La cantina,
que es un poco de la vida
donde estabas escondida
tras el hueco de mi mano.
De mi mano
que te llama silenciosa,
mariposa que al volar,
me dejó sobre la boca, ¡sí!
me dejó sobre la boca su salado gusto a mar.
(Instrumental)
Se ha dormido entre jarcias la luna,
llora un tango su verso tristón,
y entre un poco de viento y de espuma
llega el eco fatal de tu voz.
Tarantela del barco italiano
la cantina se ha puesto feliz,
pero siento que llora lejano
tu recuerdo vestido de gris.
La cantina
llora siempre que te evoca
cuando toca, piano, piano,
su acordeón el italiano…
La cantina,
que es un poco de la vida
donde estabas escondida
tras el hueco de mi mano.
De mi mano
que te llama silenciosa,
mariposa que al volar,
me dejó sobre la boca, ¡sí!
me dejó sobre la boca su salado gusto a mar.
English
English
The moon has turned silver the Riachuelo river
and there’s a ship that returns from the sea,
with a sweet piece of sky
with an old pinch of salt.
Swallow lost in the wind,
on which far away street will it be,
with a glass of alcohol and fear
behind the foggy glass of a bar.
The tavern
always cries recalling you
when the Italian, very slowly,
plays his accordion...
The tavern,
which is a piece of life
where you were hiding
behind the hollow of my hand.
Of my hand
that calls you quietly,
butterfly that when flying,
left on my lips, yes!
left on my lips its salty taste from the sea.
(Instrumental)
The moon has fallen asleep among the rigs,
a tango cries a sad verse,
and between some wind and foam
the fatal echo of your voice arrives.
Tarantela from the Italian ship
the tavern has turned happy,
but I feel that your memory cries
faraway dressed in grey.
The tavern
always cries recalling you
when the Italian, very slowly,
plays his accordion...
The tavern,
which is a piece of life
where you were hiding
behind the hollow of my hand.
Of my hand
that calls you quietly,
butterfly that when flying,
left on my lips, yes!
left on my lips its salty taste from the sea.
Note
This song was featured in 1955 movie "Vida Nocturnal (Night Life)" and Aníbal Troilo and Jorge Casal himself perform this song in the cabaret scene.
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