Milongón Del Guruyú

To the streets of the Customs
where I grew up and learned,
to the Vaults, to the Waston
to the Guruyú, from here,
my emotional memory
for the hours I lived.
To the tavern La Telita,
to Lito and Rafael
half-cured cheese and red wine
under Gardel's eye.
To the master Tito Cabano
a privilege that honors me
to have spent nights with him.
To the tavern La Telita
fruit and vegetable stand
where I began to sing.
My city meets the water
by the Sarandí breakwaters
fishing rods buzz
and a kid's rigging.
People from all walks of life
of chatter and small talk,
bottle on the rocks
or stashed in the briefcase
bottle on the rocks
or stashed in the briefcase.
From Guruyú
come the drums
to Guruyú
goes my heart
From Guruyú
of love and pains
to the milonga I sing.
The starry night falls
on this shore of the city
a warm breeze blows
and in it you can feel the whole sea.
There at the Bar El Hacha
the ace of cups wants to toast;
the second to last and we go
because tomorrow we have to work.
the second to last and we go
because tomorrow we have to work
From Guruyú
come the drums
to Guruyú
goes my heart
From Guruyú
of love and pains
to the milonga I sing.
This melancholy
that brings with it the evocation
painted me with colors
of the Rio de la Plata in the milonga.
To fish for memories
I always embody with emotion;
take the ones you want
because here in my soul I have a lot
take the ones you want
because here in my soul I have a lot
From Guruyú
come the drums
to Guruyú
goes my heart
From Guruyú
of love and pains
to the milonga I sing