Así Se Baila El Tango

What do the snobs, posh people, and show-offs know!
What do they know about tango, what do they know about rhythm!
Here is the elegance. What a look! What a silhouette!
What style! What arrogance! What class for dancing!
That's how the grass is cut while I draw the figure eight,
for these intricate steps I am like a painter.
Now a run, a turn, a sit...
That's how tango is danced, a tango of my flower!
That's how tango is danced,
feeling in the face,
the blood rising
with each beat,
while the arm,
like a snake,
twists around the waist
about to break.
That's how tango is danced,
mixing breath,
closing the eyes
to listen better,
how the violins
tell the bandoneon
why since that night
Malena didn't sing.
Is she a woman or a reed, when she does a dip?
Does she have a spring or a string to move her feet?
The truth is that my partner, my 'everything',
dancing is a beast that drives me crazy...
Sometimes I wonder if it's not my shadow
that always follows me, or a being without will.
But she was born like that, for the milonga
and, like me, she dies, she dies to dance!